I'd planned a 200 km loop around t'Moors, as the public were demanding* a 200km ride. I plotted a route, with a simple brief - pick tracks and roads which get up high and stay there, to prevent the constant rhythm of dropping down to a valley and climbing back up the other side which made Moor Gravel such an interesting ride.
The sea fret seemed to have lifted, and I hacked along the roads to Stokesley and up the Incline. A couple of walkers congratulated me - I told them they should congratulate themselves, as it's a tough walk, and I should know. I ignored the route to the Lion, and carried on along the track along Rudland Rigg, which stays up high, with just a few ups-and-downs to keep it interesting before it drops to Dovedale. So far, so good.
The pub at Cropton looks lovely - it comes with camping and its own brewery. It is rather nice, but they were busy, and my chip butty took a fair while. Hmm, maybe not the best control point. But the lanes were lovely, with a bit of tree cover to shelter me from the sun -
it worked for Napoleon, so why not me.
There was a very rough bit connecting said lovely lanes with Newton Forest Drive and the level crossing on the NYM railway. Then a fairly stupid but entertaining bit of bridleway along a grassy track and up a hill, all the while being able to see the road that goes up the same hill farther down the valley. Lots of livestock up there too - hairy coobeasties have right of way, I reckon.
The track up to Hole of Horcum ("Hole!") was fabulous, though, and I was looking forward to the bridleway round the back of RAF Fylingdales. I hadn't been so close since an anti-war demo way back when. It's still a grim old place, and the bridleway was all singletrack - reasonably ridable today, but I couldn't route a 200 over that lot. Which is wuite a shame, cos it leads onto a forestry road which was good going.
I was trying to follow proper bridleways - this was a bit hard, when I saw the tempting-looking footpath from May Beck Car Park to Falling Foss. But up the hill, to the b-road, and back down it was. Sure enough, at Falling Foss there was a fingerpost pointing back to May Beck, along the beck.
The tracks from Falling Foss were a bit of a mess - mostly really ridable, but it became pretty clear that everyone ignored the official rights of way, and rode along the tracks, which is exactly what I did. They looked like access tracks for the line of quite rusty pylons coming up the hill from Whitby.
They got me to the top of Blue Bank and the fabulous scream downhill to Grosmont. I maundered along Eskdale to Commondale, which was another poorly-chosen control point. There is a pub, the Cleveland Inn, and it was open, and they have snacks and stuff and are quite happy to fill cyclists' bottles. But it was 7 pm on a Friday and it was empty, apart from a waggy dog in the window - he was really pleased to see this blonde woman walk in, and after faffing a bit, I followed. And immediately walked out again, to check that I was entering a pub - it felt like someone's front room. When I left, there were three people there. Later in the ride, I passed the King's Head in Seamer, another pub with a weird vibe, but I reckon the Cleveland Inn wins.
Anyway, that was where I decided to head home rather than tackle the two extra GPFO hills, some offroad, and lots of little hills. A couple more hills, then downhill and flat back home it was. Turned out to be 177 km, so a pretty good ride in the heat, and a decent consolation for missing TINAT this weekend.
*Well, Paul D mentioned it, and the 100-miler came from a random comment Dr Mekon made, so why not.
