Ride Reports Lakes – Feb 09 aka The Rise of Downhill Phil The Lakes have always been a happy hunting ground for the club but a mid winter weekend away was a bit of a step into the unknown. Heavy snowfall and sub zero conditions in the lead up to the weekend meant that we were at the mercy of the trail conditions. As it transpired, adding a new twist to some old favourites made for a terrific weekend of riding. A late departure from Glasgow and a break in Ambleside for dinner (Lucy's 4 – best tapas I've had in the UK) meant that Ginger and I were the last to arrive at the bunkhouse. Mark, Lyndsey, Phil, Reuben, Derek and Ross were all looking pretty "relaxed" when we met them in the pub on site with Ross waxing lyrical about a climb he and Reuben had ridden in the afternoon from Brotherswater onto the fells above Glenridding. Forming part of the classic Ullswater loop, Ross reported that the path had been improved and that the final ultra steep and loose section near the top now looked almost rideable. One for a future ride methinks.

With the kip ship about to set sail, we retired to the bunkhouse. Unfortunately, it was to be a bumpy sailing as we drifted into a brown miasma of gaseous emissions – 1 room, 6 bodies and a large quantity of beer. At one point, I had thought we were going to have to tape up the windows in case they blew out under the pressure emanating from within!

Waking up the next morning with something of a tan, I looked bleary eyed across the room only to catch site of Reuben in what can only be described as a camp superhero outfit – pink Calvin Klein Ys set off with a pink Assos cycling top and body armour. There are just some things a man should never see…………..Fending off the gag reflex and the dry boak, we trooped up to the restaurant of the hotel for breakfast. Unfortunately, somewhere along the way, the drains in Brotherswater Inn have gone for a burton meaning that the delicate fragrances of fried bacon were mixed in with a distinct wang of cleaning fluids and man odour. Not good!

Driving to Keswick for the main ride of the weekend, a loop of Skiddaw, we managed to faff a lot less than we've become accustomed to and with only a quick stop at Brysons Master Bakers (yes, you read that right!) for some really rather excellent cakes and sangers, we were soon spinning along the old disused railway line and heading for Skiddaw House, the highest youth hostel in the UK. Cutting off the main trail, Del and I found a short but sweet singletrack trail which skirted along the river bank before rejoining the group for a short ride / push up onto a minor road above. This led to a plummet down a tree lined descent to a small valley below. To say it was steep is a bit of an understatement. A narrow ribbon of muddy singletrack twisted and turned its way down the side of the hill to the river crossing below. Del led the way with me hard on his tail, tyres scrabbling for grip as we sped down on leaf laden trail.

Regrouping at the bottom, Phil performed what was to become his trademark Mr Miyagi jacket on / jacket off routine for the rest of the weekend. Faff over, a rocky horse track saw us climb up onto open countryside and join up with a footpa…..sorry, errr, permissive bridleway, that rose gradually to the distant summit beyond. Progress was steady as we spun our way ever upward. Cresting onto a more substantial Land Rover track, the path quickly narrowed and steepened for the final push up to a high point of some 1500 feet. The sun made a fleeting but welcome appearance as granny gears were engaged for the last push. Mark, Ross and Del pushed on at the front while I started from the back having been on gate duty (Note for Pete Morgan: You will be glad to know that as first person to the gate, I followed your etiquette of holding it open until everyone is through and close it behind me. Don't worry, I'll still close gates before you are through on our next ride! Ha! Ha!) . A mixture of frost lift and loose rocks made for a techy climb where power and subtlety had to applied to varying degrees to keep moving forward. Del was first to spin out as his wet condition Big Earl proved a poor match for the trail with Ross soon to follow, an ever more apparent cold blunting his climbing skills leaving it to Mark and I to clean the climb.

As the slope slackened off, Skiddaw House came into view and afforded a welcome place to break. Looking at the map, Del was the first to break ranks for continuing, the wheel sucking hoar frost laden trail having made itself particularly apparent when combined with his big tyres. Looking at the map, I recalled that on Singletrackworld.com I had read about some tasty trails off the front of Skiddaw so the call was made to give it a whirl. Heading across the valley onto a hard packed dirt track, we were soon speeding down towards the valley far below. Rounding a corner, Lyndsey spotted a couple of country gents out walking with friendly beagle. "Tally ho!" cried Lyndsey in her best Torquil Findlay McCameron faux posh accent. "Tally ho!" came the jovial response. Stopping for a natter, we were soon discussing how difficult it is these days to purchase a water proof deer stalker. "If only they did them in Gore Tex!" came the plaintive cry. "I've tried House of Bruar and even they don't do them!" said the taller of the country gents, resplendent in head to foot country gent style apparel. I made a mental note to buy shares in said store before we said our cheerios and headed down the trail.

Entering uncharted territory, we followed a series of bridleways back up onto the fells with a brief stop for Del to play with a tractor tyre. It's a long story but suffice to say he was as happy as a sandboy as he fooled about with the giant ring! Mixing map reading stops with Phil robbing / disrobing stops and a brief mechanical for Marky Mark, we quickly climbed up on a mixture of narrow singletrack and well defined rocky path. As the gradient increased, riding was replaced with portage as we made our way towards the cloudline. With it now being mid afternoon, the plan to top out at over 2500 feet to ride down a peach of a singletrack trail which I had spotted last year was replaced with a shortened climb up and ride down the same trail we had carried up.

Reaching a high point of 1800 feet (gps's really are great toys!), Ross, Mark and I took the time to take in the views of the lake far below us before dropping saddles and heading down the trail. A mixture of rock drop offs, loose gravel and firm hard pack made for a great downhill trail although the scenery did act as a distraction as I managed to completely miss a switchback and fall off as my eye was drawn

towards the mountains in the distance. Doh! The fast descent brought us quickly to a series of tricky water bars which caught Phil out on his fancy new Turner 5 Spot. Cue more faff and puncture repair action. Duly fixed, we continued along through a series of forest trails keeping us parallel with the road below before dropping down to a river crossing which afforded us the opportunity to wash our bikes and engage in the time honoured tradition of dropping rocks into the water as folk cleaned their bikes and giving them the benefit of a much needed wash also. It also gave us time to consider routes for the next time we head down with an option of riding up onto the summit of Skiddaw then traversing across to do the top section of the descent we had done. Another 1300 feet of descent beckons thus could be on the cards for a return trip. For Mark, Ross and I, there was a definite sense of unfinished business.

A short road bash ensued to get us back to the cars with a now almost traditional meal at Zeffirellis Italain restaurant in Ambleside to follow and a scary assed drive back over the Kirkstone Pass in some of the thickest fog I've ever experienced.

Sunday dawned grey and drab and with everyone wanting a more mellow ride than the day before thus a trip to Biketreks in Ambleside beckoned as we considered the options. With folk wanting no more than a three hour ride, Loughrigg Terrace beckoned. Sitting on the edge of the town, Loughrigg benefits from a cornucopia of interlinked singletrack trails making for an ideal place to ride on an evening or when time is limited. An all too brief spin to the base of the fell brought us to a brutal road climb up onto the fell itself. Granny gears were immediately engaged as we winched our way past parties of walkers. I led the way at a fair pace on the grounds of not only knowing the route but more importantly, my teeth were about to start floating if I didn't stop to answer the call of nature. Reaching the first flat section (and suitably relieved!), we regrouped and darted off the main trail onto prime grassy singletrack. The rolling nature of the fell made for sharp climbs and the odd steep technical descent. Dropping off one of the raises, we looked back as Phil took a super technical line which none of us had even considered. Clearly the new bike had given Phil some renewed confidence as the rest of the ride was to prove.

Reaching a rocky outcrop at one end of the fell, we were treated to a panoramic view over the Lakes and Fells. With the sun now firmly out and the temperature rising, we could see High Street and Helvellyn in the distance, trails both ridden at the club's visit there last May. Photos taken and energy bars chomped, we headed back across the hillside and made our way gradually towards the summit proper. Multiple path options lay ahead of us and each promised their own reward for the price of a short, sharp technical climb. Some were cleaned, some weren't but each section brought us closer to the summit. Skirting round one section of hillside, a small tarn had frozen into the shape of what resembled a gigantic cracked dinner plate. It was at this point Mark spotted what was referred to as "a good looking sheep". I'm not really sure what he meant by this and chose not to probe the matter any further! Reaching the summit, we enjoyed a fantastic 360 panorama view. Despite not being particularly high, Loughrigg more than makes up for its lack of height with stunning scenery.