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.
Yorkshire Dales
July 22, 2006, England
Saturday
We suddenly realised there was no August ride planned, so hasty arrangements were made and a rag tag collection of Renegades and outcasts were pulled together for the August FanyLion ride.
Myself, Team Hodgson, coming out of semi-retirement/Fatherhood/the peloton to lead a ride, keen to rekindle my relation ship with my fat-tyred mistress after spending a few months away eloping with her skinny-tyred sister.
10-Ton Kona, not having ridden on a FanyLion ride since SSMM was keen to get muddy and breathe in some clear countryside air after spending all his time riding his bike back home from the pub in London.
Team Ewok, the whingeing, whining, moaning, bleating bitch of the pre-ride plans who hadn’t ridden his bike for almost 9 months and was concerned that our planned 30mile ride might be too much for him.
Team Starkey, with new Go Faster physique, svelte and slim following a serious bout of road biking and watching his diet, keen to test out his new Fox Float forks, carbon Race Face bars and stem.
The long awaited return of the Living Legend that is Team Boy Band, recently returned from a year in Australia and keen to ride with Team FanyLion again and regale us with tales of sex with kangaroos, eating aborigines, nights out with koalas and fiddling with his boomerang. Or something.
And a possible new Team member, Boy Band’s mate Matt, aka Team Landlord, who had engineered a day away from his pub and family to meet Team FanyLion and find out exactly what Boy Band had been whittering on about for all these years.
So, the plan to meet in Reeth and ride some of the many hardcore trails that criss-cross this area, with several options to cut loops short for when Ewok dies or to add extra loops on for when Boy Band tells us we should keep riding. Setting off from Leeds that morning the weather was pretty grey and it continued to deteriorate until I arrived in Reeth, a damp grey drizzle and chilly wind certainly putting a dampener on any pre-ride banter, but as we saddled up and bang on schedule we left Reeth Craft Centre car park there was a buzz in the air. No not just Sheldon’s flatulence, not just the FanyLion standard trick of buzzing the rider in front’s tyre, but the electric buzz of excitement that can only be found when Team FanyLion set out on a ride.
However the buzz didn’t last too long as FanyLion standard MapFaffTM took hold and we floundered around the lanes of Grinton looking for the correct route. Dean befriended a fluffy dog then we were off, uphill on steep tarmac and the ride was in full swing, Boy Band and I racing one another up the steep climb, Team Landlord looking very fit, hauling his beast of a Kona hardtail uphill at a good rate and the rest of the Team very close behind. And Dean, miles off the back, head nodding like a Rumanian orphan, huffing and grunting and praying his new heart rate monitor wouldn’t explode. As we turned off the tarmac and onto dirt for the first time, Dean already looked haggard and I was fearful what the ride would do to him.
We climbed on rough rocky tracks with the cold wind and rain blowing into our faces, trying and make us give up and go back to our cars, but no, we powered on. And after a couple of map reading stops later realised we had gone wrong and I bowed to Boy Band’s superior navigation skills and we found ourselves on (the very appropriately named) Gibbon Hill, a wet, damp, sweating bunch of gibbons, in the Dales, on our bikes. Looking around it was hard to believe it was the middle of August. It looked and felt like November.
Once we peaked out on Gibbon Hill, the gibbons hit the first downhill section, and I must admit it was awesome. A fast rocky track with sweeping, swoopy bends and the occasional rock outcrop (for the obtaining of FanyAirTM) let all Lions rip it up and made everyone feel much better. However as we regrouped at the foot of the descent and stopped for a snack the heavens opened good and proper and we took shelter in a stinky Hobbit-hole, riddled with sheep shit and only marginally more comfortable than staying out in the rain and driving wind. When the rain dropped we struck east, deciding to head back to Reeth to see if this lousy weather would let up and to let Ewok quit the ride as he was feeling brutalised.
We climbed a rocky grassy track and hunted out the Apedale Road for more monkey business, and after riding some sublime singletrack, raged it down a boggy rutted, motorcrosser-damaged section and back to tarmac and headed down to Reeth and off the windswept moortop. Descending on tarmac like a swarm of angry bees we raced one another at speeds in excess of 40mph and very soon were back at the cars basking in glorious sunshine and glorious temperatures more befitting the time of year, which in itself was quiet weird.
So after a change of clothes and a quick scan of the map our second loop of the day was plotted (I was determined our day’s mileage could not be allowed to end at the paltry 13miles we had ridden). Dean was to stay at the cars as he was suffering from some brutal climbs and not having ridden his bike for so long and also not having a slow, uffing, huffing Sheldon behind him any more. But, even weirder, was that Sheldon also made the decision not to ride any more today. WTF? He had been riding well, was looking strong and had over £700sworth of new components on his new bike to test out, but after 2 hrs of riding Sheldon was throwing in the towel for a cup of tea and a scone rather than come and ride his bike. No, I have no idea what goes on in his mind either. He gets fitter, then still gives up. Maybe he doesn’t really like mountainbiking? Or maybe he wanted to bum Dean? Who knows? Who cares? I have given up caring…
So, the depleted mini-pack (consisting of: Hog, Kona, Landlord and Boy Band) set off from Reeth once again, this time heading west on tarmac to Healaugh, seeking out the joys of Calver Hill and Marrick Moor, eager to find the track off Fremington Edge that descended those steep map contours.
Turning into Thiernswood Hall, we headed along a narrow bridleway, through a gate, then climbed, as steep as ufck on an unworn grass track, saddle noses rammed up our rectums, grinding our granny gears and trying to keep our front wheels down in the beating sunshine. The Weather Gods had shown pity on our persistent breakaway faction and deemed we should be blessed with sunshine. All hail the Weather Gods.
Climbing to Cringley Hill, a quick map check showed us to be right on track and, strangely, knowing exactly where we were, so we ploughed on, with Team Landlord happily interrogating me to find out all he could about Team FanyLion and our history.
A right turn and we it was time to cash in our Altitude Vouchers and we headed downhill on a fast rocky doubletrack at breakneck speed, taking corners far too fast in an effort to inject some adrenalin, descending to tarmac and the road to Langthwaite. It was here that I made a strange discovery. You know when you drive a car around the countryside and you spy lots of rough tracks and bridleways and you plot your next MTB ride? Well as we rode along this perfect black ribbon of tarmac wending it’s way through the valley, so I was plotting my next road ride. Somebody help me. What have I become?
Into Langthwaite and a hard right onto a muddy track alongside Arkle Beck and we were riding along at a good speed, free of the dead wood that might slow us down and were probably by now be up to their ball bags in each other. A deep water splash by Storthwaite Hall was a good photo opportunity, then Clarke Kent the fell runner appeared and we followed his route, twisting up the super-steep rocky bridleway leading us to the old quarry on Fell End Moor.
Once we had left the grass behind and entered the quarry zone, a weird lunar landscape greeted us with the route marked by stone cairns, each one looking like the grave of a dead walker/fell runner/mountainbiker or even a roadie that had got out of his depth.
As we climbed up through the quarry Boy Band was well and truly back to his best. The men love him, the women love him, The Legend, Boy Band, resplendent in his white Team Giant roadie kit, climbing through the quarry like an Uphill Warrior.
Kona and Landlord weren’t far behind and we all marvelled at this tight, narrow, switchbacked track with it’s little rocky steps and ledges that we were now riding. If only Sheldon and Dean were here they would have loved it. Topping out by the cairn on Fell End Moor, Boy Band stopped to tighten his shoe cleat and we had a rest and basked in the sunshine, sheltered from the wind by a grassy hillock and the day had turned good and it was, once again, good to be out in the open air, on our bikes, the mighty Team FanyLion, though somewhat depleted in number.
Back onto rocky doubletrack and the best descent of the day so far, a rocky rollercoaster sending us shooting across a barren mining landscape towards the hamlet of Hurst, Lions jumping off the rock outcrops and hardpacked spoil heaps and regrouping at the chimneys.
The last climb of the day over the superbly named Jingle Pot Hill and we were there: Fremington Edge, where the track headed across the map contours at the point where they were closest together and we knew we were in for a fast finale to our day. Well, almost. The top section of the trail started well, a rock scree of loose rubble requiring the maximum of all our Spain trail riding techniques to nail. Regrouping at a rocky ledge we were pumped and keen for more, however after another short section of off-camber rock garden that was it and the descent sadly turned into tarmac, leaving us no option but to rage it down the road as fast as we could and back to the cars and the hope that our two gay friends had mopped up and were finished.
Thankfully Dean and Sheldon had been for a post-coital cup of tea and we all regrouped back at the cars, the day done with a measly 25miles on the clock. However we had ridden some good trails and I for one am keen to return to blaze them without having to stop for map reading. And hopefully the weather will be better next time.
Boy Band and Landlord headed off back to Boro for Matt to open his pub and Boy Band to help drink it dry. Starkey (and his unused £4K bike), Ewok (and his unused £4K lungs) and Kona (and his unused ringpiece) set off for Pickering, ready to ride Dalby in the morning.
I was off home to my wife and daughter, both needing my attention more than FanyLion at the moment, however a couple of things struck me about the weekend.
1. Map reading is, and always will be, a right royal pan in the arse. Shortbread always tells me I should pre-ride routes rather than map reading, but as I’m not a lazy arsed student and have a job and family I don’t really have the time for that, much as I would love to, so it looks like whenever we try a new, natural trail we have to rely on maps. Maybe I should go on a map reading course?
2. Even though riders moan and whinge when it is wet and cold or they don’t feel fit, they will always follow you on a ride. You should therefore plot a big ride of at least 45miles and they will follow you, like rats following the pied piper, blindly following, to their deaths if necessary. Do not listen to their bleatings, for they can pedal and bleat at the same time, and when the ride is eventually over they will thank you for leading them through the filth and mire and across the many miles of pain and suffering, for they will bask in the glory of their achievements, and the Team will be mighty.
Not sure when I will be on a FanyLion ride next; I have a few road races planned, plus weekends away with the family, so for now, Hog out.
Sunday Service (Dalby Forest)
The last two visits to Dalby Forest had seen it closed to biking due to some sort of Rally event so I was pleased and maybe a little aroused that today was business as usual.
The weather was good, high clouds, warm sunshine, no midge(ts), dry trails, no Faff ™ and with the pre-ride Fany behaviour in full swing, 10 bells struck and we were off up the usual serving of double track/fire road ascent, which saw Ewok firmly glued at the back whilst Shack led up front. Soon we were entering trail pixie land as we took in some nice new swooping single-track intermingled with some rock gardens Welsh style. Even though having not ridden (a bike) for 9 months, Ewok nailed them without eating dirt or wrecking his drive-train in the process. Good.
Progress was fast and we were soon arrived at the new skills section of the forest, with some North Shore, Table Tops and Skinnies (The Trail Pixies had been hard at it again I thought). The place was littered with aging mountain bikers, kids and a few guys on pimp ass bikes chatting. I waited in the so-called queue but nothing was happening, so without any hesitation, I went to the front and rode off down to the tabletop, grabbed some Fanyair™ and back up.
After taking some cool photos of Ten Ton Kona, Shack and Ewok doing the same we then tried our hands at the “Skinnies” section where I lost my bottle. Yep that’s right, I just didn’t have any, I was queer, the monkey on my back was screaming at me and I just froze. Ten-Ton Kona got the “Wade Simmons” medal as he ripped the north shore apart…big rspkt!
By this time, the weather had turned rather “Novemberish” so without further ado, we headed back via some of the old trails, sneaking in some new unfinished black “out of bounds” sections too. After a quick brew and bite to eat with Shack’s girlfriend Lou, we all said our farewells and head back home.
As I drove home in the afternoon sun (which had poked through), I reflected on the weekend. Sure, the FanyLion vibe was there in abundance, I had seen Team Hodgson again, but somehow, just somehow I had that niggling feeling inside that something was missing. Maybe it was the lack of riders or maybe it was the weather? I do not know. After all, I hope we continue to thrive and more importantly ride.
Team Starkey.
OUT.
Riders present
Sat:
Hog
Starkey
Boy Band
Ewok
Ten Ton Kona
Landlord (poss new member)
Sun:
Starkey
Ewok
Ten Ton Kona
Shack
Enjoyment level
Wet