16th June 2016: Special Ride - Grange to The Drunken Duck (mod)

Kate and Macca were already in the Seaview Café when Keith, George and myself arrived, after a quick and trouble-free motorway journey. Keith Metcalf soon joined us. Keith was brought up not very far east from here. The six of us set off at 10.30a.m. for the public conveniences on  Grange promenade. The weather was ideal, and I warned the troops not to overdress at the start, as the first climb to Cartmel would soon have them well warmed up.

Photos by Macca

We wound through Cartmel with its ancient Priory, pretty square and picturesque race course, and started climbing again, before an exhilarating plunge down through Low Wood and on to Haverthwaite. The little lane threading up The Rusland Valley was quiet and beautiful.  The climbing through Grizedale Forest became challenging, and I began to regret the half bottle of red, and watching football late the night before.  The others were politely patient as they waited for the heaviest and oldest rider in the group at the top of the climb! We were soon hurtling down to Esthwaite Water, and then passing through the tourists in Hawkshead. The climb from Outgate gave us terrific views across Langdale Fell.

We arrived at Barngates and the Drunken Duck after twenty miles, and sat in the sun tucking in to fish finger sarnies and the like. This is a very attractive spot, and the service and food was just the job for cyclists wanting to move on.

After lunch we had to squeeze past a huge logging lorry on the narrow route over Hawkshead Hill. We flew down to the side of Coniston Water, with fine views of the lake and The Old Man of Coniston to our right. Speedy progress was made on the undulating, green canopied lakeside road. We passed Brantwood, the former home of John Ruskin. This area also provided the setting for ‘Swallows and Amazons’, and the brave world water speed record attempts of Donald Campbell.  Campbell’s grave is in Coniston village, and his story is told in the fine museum there.

We stopped at a wooden jetty in order to walk out into the lake and soak in the tranquil atmosphere and majestic surroundings of water, and high mountains one last time. On Tuesday, Steve Tan had accompanied me on a rehearsal of the route. It had been a particularly warm day, and a group of young American tourists had decide to park their bikes and were having a great time swimming in the lake.  They had invited us to join them, but we weren’t sure that the elastic in our nickers was up to it.  On Tuesday the threatened heavy showers had not materialized, and I finished sitting in the sun with Steve on Grange promenade licking an ice cream, as special steam train thundered past.

Today, Macca had been taking lots of photographs in the knowledge that later it would be a bit wet for pretty pictures.  We made brisk progress on an exhilarating stretch to Lowick Bridge.

The rain started, so we headed for the wooden bus shelter in Spark Bridge to get into appropriate gear for a hundred minutes of rain. I made an expedient route decision, and we reached Greenodd and the bridge over the River Leven in short order by using the quietish main road. The cycle route follows an old railway line. It is rough to begin with, but is a pretty flat and pleasant way to make progress east. At Haverthwaite we cycled alongside the steam railway and climbed around Great Hagg. The rain hadn’t been too bad, but now it started to bucket down. Macca overcooked a downhill corner, bounced off a bush and fell off.  He appeared to be o.k. though, as where there is no sense there is no feeling!  We decided to escape into The Swan at Newby Bridge. We were made very welcome despite our drowned rats’ appearance. Cake and coffee lifted our energy levels, and George didn’t seem too bothered, as we saw Sturridge score the late winner for England against Wales on the

tele. With little prospect of the weather clearing up we climbed up the streaming little lane  to Seatle, wondering if the roads would be passable on this last leg toward Cartmel, and, finally, Grange. Keith Barlow was particularly enjoying the challenge of the adverse conditions, and there was a stimulating sense of adventure in navigating rivers of rainwater in order to get back in one piece on tired legs. We really licked along on the fast stretch past Field Broughton to Cartmel, and then faced the final stiff climb from Headless Cross to High Fell Gate. The rain had stopped, and we were soon back down on Grange promenade.

It had been great to have the company of familiar mates, but also to get to know Keith better, and catch up with Kate after four years.  I think we all enjoyed the ride, and I certainly appreciated the support on a day that was bound to have a wet afternoon, and the counter attraction of that big football match on the television at home.  We covered 48 miles or so, with plenty of hills, memorable views and typical easy riders’ camaraderie.        

                                       

D.H.

16th October 2014: Lake District (Special Ride)

Trevor had let me know that he couldn't make it. He had felt all right the first two times, but when he had stretched across the table at home for a third piece of Victoria sponge, his hamstring had twinged.  So, Dave Pipe had joined Keith and myself in the big black Renault for the drive up the M6.  Steve H had stayed overnight at a Grange B&B, and met us in the car park at 9:20 a.m.  Dave was polishing off his Full English in the Coffee Pot Cafe "with Bay Views", when we received communication, that Ivan, Tom and Clive had left Chester later than intended and would be arriving after 10:00.  It was good to see Clive, as we thought he would be sailing, but the skipper had called it off.  

We were soon cruising down the promenade alongside Morecambe Bay, and then breathing heavily as we steeply left sea-level for the first hills and Cartmel.  We wended our way through the attractive square, and out alongside the picturesque racecourse.  More climbing on sheltered, quiet lanes led us to an exhilarating plunge down from High Gate to Low Wood.  We crossed the A590 at Haverthwaite, turning right at Causeway End and up the lovely Rusland Valley.  Hard toil through Grizedale Forest led to a splendid vista, before a steep drop and a rare flatish stretch alongside Esthwaite Water took us into the popular village of Hawkshead.  A bit of hummocky climbing soon ended at The Outgate Inn, on the dot of 12:15: exactly the time that I had booked for. The food was really good, and the beer seemed to go down well.

Photographs by Ivan Davenport

The afternoon leg was a long one.  Cream teas had been booked in Cartmel for about 4:15p.m. The weather was incredibly mild for mid- October, and I had to remove my thin shell top, and drink plenty of water to avoid overheating. We reached the most northerly point of our ride at The Drunken Duck before conquering Hawkshead Hill and heading down towards the eastern shores of Coniston Water, past Brantwood, Ruskin's home, and onto a planned stop in order to walk down a jetty and take everything in for a few minutes.  Coniston Water was sun sheened and serene. 

Across the lake, Coniston village nestled at the feet of The Old Man with his head high in the blue sky.  Ivan persuaded a young photographer to take our photo, but decided it wasn't quite right and made him take it again!  

The road became faster and easier down to Lowick Bridge, a section savoured by Bryan Wade three years ago.  From Spark Bridge we were soon at Penny Bridge and then crossing the bridge at Greenodd, where the River Leven flows through the sands.  We then had a pleasant interlude, partly off tarmac, and then alongside the river to Low Wood, crossing our outward route.  Ivan spotted the steam from an engine as we headed towards the Lakeside and Haverthwaite Railway, the route of which we roughly followed, before climbing above Great Haag, and then dropping down into Newby Bridge.  We had to carefully overtake a magnificent, large steam vintage road tractor at this point.  We took a quiet, narrow climb up Canny Hill to Seatle and eventually reached a welcome direct and fast road into Cartmel.  

Despite some of our legs beginning to feel the accumulation of many banks climbed throughout the day, we flew down to Cartmel, like Team Sky on a recovery ride!  The incentive of a cream tea, and a comfy chair awaiting certainly worked for me.  We arrived to a warm welcome and in good time at The Priory Hotel, with large pots of tea readily replenished.  The sting in the tail was the last climb of the day to High Fell Gate, before the descent back to the promenade at Grange, with a gorgeous view across the bay in the special, late afternoon light.  I was grateful for the support and convivial company of the guys.  We were so lucky to have a peach of a day. Approximately 49 autumn-tinged miles covered.     

DH

6th October 2011: Lake District Special Ride

So, the day had arrived at last. Possible route variations had been previously reconnoitred in weather varying from pleasant to glorious. This Thursday the forecast was horrible: very stormy. Norman was quite open about it - he didn’t take his carpet slippers off when the weather was bad. Trevor had sprained his ankle playing badminton! But any of us could have been excused a touch of Tevez on such a day. The committed, brave and stupid were in the Grange car park early: Mike G, Bryan, Andy, Ray, Martin, Liz, Clive, Ivan, Jim and myself.

We set off along the promenade ahead of schedule despite Mike having to sort out a shopfull of extreme weather gear. The view across Morecambe Bay was lovely. Soon we were winding steeply up the quiet lane to medieval Cartmel and coffee. Cartmel Priory is claimed to be “the most beautiful church in the North West” with a fascinating history. There is also a racecourse and a Michelin starred restaurant, L’Enclume, which featured on ‘The Trip’ with Steve Googan and Rob Brydon. The staff at the Mallard Tea Rooms were friendly and efficient.

Photographs by Ivan Davenport

Now warm and not wet, we continued uphill to Haverthwaite, north along the beautiful Rusland Valley, through Grizedale Forest passing Breasty Haw on our left, and then Ray punctured. This gave Ivan a chance to photograph the group in the narrow lane while a rogue driver attempted to use us as skittles. Down we whooshed to Esthwaite Water and soon reached pretty town of Hawkshead. Hawkshead is an ancient town that has flourished from Norse times. It is a village of higgledy-piggledy houses, archways and squares with strong connections to Beatrix Potter and William Wordsworth. We meandered through the tourists and headed for Outgate and the climb to the Drunken Duck for lunch.

It was warm, a nice environment, fine beers, good quality food (if a bit pricey) and, when it came to a doorstep ham-sandwich in greaseproof paper, a bit pretentious. Exactly as expected in fact! We were just about to go back out when the rain hammered down, but five minutes later and nine of us were ready to go. Where was Mike? We found him struggling to pull his overshoes on and trying to get his arctic wardrobe in order.

We were soon grinding up to High Cross and then plunging down to the lovely undulating road alongside Coniston Water. The lakeside ride was a highlight; a beautiful unspoilt stretch of water with the Old Man of Coniston towering over the far side. Talk with Martin turned to Donald Campbell who had piloted Bluebird down this stretch of water at over 300 mph before disaster struck in 1967. From Brantwood, the former home of John Ruskin we cycled south past Peel Island, the inspiration for Wild Cat Island in the Swallow and Amazons books of Arthur Ransome.

Then followed a leisurely few miles meandering down the Crake Valley. At Spark Bridge we realised that Liz and three others were not in tow. Mobiles were either switched off or unable to connect. In the absence of a crate of carrier pigeons on the back, Martin gallantly cycled back uphill to find out what the problem was. It turned out Liz’s chain had exploded, damaging the front changer at the same time.

We eventually arrived at Penny Bridge and Greenodd for coffee and cake at the Bridge Deli. They are caterers for weddings etc. so not properly set up as a café. Service was quick and friendly and the coffee was spot on, even if there weren’t enough chairs. Mike had been delayed messing with his headset so chose to sit on the carpet rather than a metal keg. 

This part, and the next part of the route, had only been cycled by Jim and I two days before, in an attempt to travel southwest without a gruelling roller coaster ride. We crossed the river Leven and followed a dodgy Sustrans Route 20 stretch before an easy ride alongside the river to just south of Haverthwaite. The B5278 was fast and flattish going south, but it was a longer route and quite hilly from Cark to Grange, so Jim had convinced me that ‘Killer Hill’, as he referred to it, was the best option. We rode down a couple of miles to Stribers then made an acute left up a quiet, sheltered and very hard climb. The fit chaps and Liz were waiting patiently when the walkers and very slow grinders eventually made the T-junction at the top. Down past the mucky farm and alongside Cartmel racecourse, through Cartmel, with the weather becoming more consistently damp and murky by now. Then past Headless Cross and residents of Headless Close, left at the top of Allithwaite, along pleasant, quiet Wart Barrow Lane across the hill and finally back down to the coast road close to Martin and Liz’s caravan. About 46 miles completed and still an hour to go to lighting-up time.

The weather didn’t really bother us: I didn’t even use my proper waterproof, and the sheltered valleys and lanes meant that we didn’t have to battle against the wind all day.

Two thoughts struck me sitting in the car: the actual weather when cycling is often nowhere near as bad as the forecast, and if I was Martin Whitmarsh I would never employ Mike Gilbert (only pulling your leg Mike).

Thanks for your support and company on the day, I hope you all enjoyed it; also thanks to Jim for partnering me on a number of scouting missions beforehand and providing sound advice.

DH

Author's corrections: it was Andy that punctured, not Ray; despite my Tevez aspersions, and Trevor's apparent good humour, his lawyer informs me that he has irrefutable medical evidence of a dicky ankle.
Note to editor: I may have a tendency to use marginally iffy words, but I think you were wrong in changing 'shopful' to 'shopfull'.
P.S. This week, regrettably, Mike confirmed his unsuitability for employment with McLaren by turning up at the wrong circuit.
DH