Fanylion Mountain Bike Team
Official site of the Fanylion Mountain Bike Team. Includes mountain bike ride guides, gear reviews, bike maintenance, team reports and rider profiles of the Fanylion Racing Team.
Scugdale and Harewood
June 10, 2002, North Yorkshire
Team FanyLion Northern Faction met over the weekend for two days of mud, blood, chaffing, laughing, grinding, sliding, fear, beer and madras. Needless to say, mucho funno was had by all.
Team Starkey, Team Downhill Potts and Team Danny Cliff Diver made their way over to Leeds and we set off to Team Shack's house to do the Scugdale Loop, a 22 or 33 mile loop of the North Yorkshire Moors. We were going to do 22 miles regardless, the additional 11 mile loop could be added on if everyone felt up to it (which of course they did. Or if they didn't, we would do it anyway).
Team Cliff Diver was the first cause of amusement. As we set off on the ride we realised Danny was sporting what can only be described as a pi55 pot on his head. Think Frank Spencer, think Attack of the Nerds, think gimp, think domehead and you are getting somewhere near. This was one of those helmets you just don't see any more, and with good reason. The man has a £600 bike, a £15k car, and a 20p helmet. To say he looked a twat is an understatement. And best of all, Danny agreed and said he deserved everything we threw at him. Hopefully the photos will tell the full story.
After sweating and grunting our way up the first climb we arrived at the BT satellite station in good form. Team Cliff Diver was looking good, climbing like a demon and looking fantastic in his aforementioned pudding bowl. The first descent was on part of the Coast to Coast walk, the stone footpath traversed every hundred yards with tyre threatening drainage kerbs that would hole your inner tube faster than you could say "Danny's got a crap helmet." Fortunately we made it without mishap. A blast through Swainby Woods, a close encounter with some terrier type dog that Chris nearly ate and we started the climb over into Scugdale.
Attempts were made at 'Hodgson's Ladder'. Needless to say no-one got further than about 6 feet, but Team Downhill Potts actually got the furthest up the steep climb, travelling 6 feet one inch. Respect.
The long technical climb up to the gliding school was hard going, but the second descent was soon to follow, with a sandy, gravely blast down to Hawnby, scaring the occasional walker and worrying a few sheep on the way down. By now we had completed 16 miles, and a stop at Chequers cafe was needed to replenish our colostomy bags and eat tons of flapjack. The old woman at the cafe said we weren't as young as some of the other people they normally had visiting. I queried her statement that we weren't young, to which she replied that I looked as if I had been 'round the block' a few times. Charming. She didn't comment on Danny's helmet unfortunately, though I am sure he would have shown her it if she had asked. Oo-errr.
Now was decision time: we could do the remaining 5 miles back to Phil's, or do a further 10 mile loop (incorporating a 40 mph downhill through the forest and the legendary Black Hambleton downhill section) and then the remaining 5 miles back to Phil's.
Sheldon looked tired, Team Potts looked like he needed either a cig or an ambulance. Danny just looked stupid. But the Team stuck together and decided to do the extra 10 miles. Cool.
After unloading the biggest dump of the year (you didn't need to know that did you?) I led the way over to Silton Forest fire road and we hit the 40 mph downhill. I had done my record speed of 42mph here a couple of weeks ago, could it be beaten? You betcha. 44mph was there on the computer for all to see. Massive skids before the gate at the bottom (from my tyres..........) and the team looked glad they had chosen the additional loop.
Grins soon changed to grimaces and gurns of hatred as Phil took us on a tarmac climb 'short cut'. This was one of those roads that is soooo steep you wonder how they get the tarmac to stick to the hillside. A real killer. We amassed at the top, Team Starkey and Team Potts bringing up the rear, both looking the worse for wear. We had now covered 22 miles and just climbed about 2000ft in the last mile. With a carrot of three big downhills to come we set off for Black Hambleton.
The downhill at Black Hambleton is legendary. In the centre section the route resembles a World Cup downhill course, with huge drops and boulders the size of Ford Fiestas to negotiate. We set off at a fair rate of knots, bouncing off rocks and screaming like girls/kids/pufters. After the rocky section is a gravel track that allows you to get near the 40mph mark once more. I was onto the gravel first and flying, only to be passed by Team Potts doing about 10 mph faster!! On a bloomin' hardtail!! I tried to keep up with him but was past the limit of control, my bike getting all squirrelly on a couple of corners. This appears to be how Team Potts rides all the time: he is truly fearless/skilful/mental. Stay away from him or you WILL die.
More grins and we went past the cafe again for the Hambleton Drove Road and the 3 mile downhill to Sheepwash, which was covered at speed, frightening the odd walker again. (Most walkers are odd aren't they?).
This just left the push up part of the Lyke Wake Walk and we had the blast down past the BT satellite station again to Phil's, where Phil's sister had baked us a cake and put the kettle on for our return. Now that's what I call service!! We had done 33miles, riding for 3 and a quarter hours, and been out for just under 5 hours. We were all pretty tired and keen for food and beer.
Myself, Phil, Danny and Sheldon sampled the delights of Calverley's hostelries, and also had a (very quick) pint in a pub in Greengates, on the outskirts of Bradford. It was like the bar in Star Wars. Weird aliens with two heads and ten eyes looked us up and down. A man with white socks and a huge ear ring winked at Danny and asked him if he wanted a fast ship to Alderaan, and Phil chopped some angry bloke's arm off with his lightsabre. Then we left for a curry.
Fully madrassed up we stumbled back to Hotel Hodgson to get to bed, choke the one-eyed trouser snake and get some sleep ready for Sunday's adventure.
Sunday dawned like a nymphomaniac cannibal girl, wet and wild. We decided to do the Harewood Loop as it was close to home and relatively flat. After a cooked farmyard for breakfast we drove to Meanwood Valley Park, the start of the ride, calling in at Stif Mountainbikes for Danny to buy himself a proper helmet and some fine and dandy Fox shorts.
The Harewood Loop was pretty muddy, but we were wrapped up and gritted our teeth and got on with it. The rocks of the Meanwood Trail were slippy and treacherous, but no falls were had. The big fall of the weekend was on tarmac, going through the Harewood Estate, when Team Shack and I did a synchronized slide on a greasy bend at about 30mph, burning skin off our knees/thighs in the process. Danny watched the crash unfold before him much to his amusement. "That'll teach the ba****ds for taking the pi55 out of me yesterday......"
The Harewood Loop was completed in heavy rain and wasn't really that enjoyable. Danny was determined to get at least one fall in before he went home so decided to crash in the car park, skinning his elbow. Good lad.
A quick pint and that was it, another weekend over. Quote of the weekend came from Team Shack again. Sunday morning, rain. Shack said " I don't want to go biking, I really don't. It's wet and horrible. I am tired from yesterday. But I have to go. It's Sunday, and on Sunday I go biking." Hardcore.
Till next time,
Team Hodgson Over & Out.
Riders present
Team Shack
Team Starkey
Team Cliff Diver
Team Downhill Maniac
Team Hodgson
Enjoyment level
Wicked