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.
The Howgills
June 30, 2007, England
Where to start on a weekend that had it all? From dense, combustible clouds of noxious bodily vapours and grown men soiling themselves to terrifying sketchy descents and rain soaked climbs these were 2 days that plumbed the depths and scaled the giddy heights of mountain biking.
Saturday morning and Lions assembled at Under Loughrigg car park near Ambleside for 10am. The group of 6 full lions was swelled with 4 guest riders, taking the total to 10 – a healthy total given the absolutely awful weather. The roll call included:
• Cove
• Distillery
• Shortbread
• Starkey
• Quad
• Hog
• + guests: Dan, Dave, Doug and Ben
The rain, which was to be a key feature of the day, steadily came down and discouraged too much faff, but we still only managed to get out the car park by 10.40am!
Following MTB tradition the route started with a short but sharp, loose rocky climb – riders were walking within the first 10 mins of the ride…The route took us up along Loughrigg Terrace to High Close youth hostel. The hostel provided a handy stop point for Distillery to run in for a dump (too much homemade chilli the night before) and Ben to fill his camelback. The rest of us stayed out the rain under the trees and had a play on Quad’s new Global Ti and the Nicolai Helius numbers Ben and Doug were test riding – very nice too.
Having shed loads and sorted hydration we sped off down to Elterwater, including a cheeky dash down some sweet footpath, just don’t tell anyone. From there we followed the bridleway over to Little Langdale, involving a punishing, rocky loose climb that tested riders’ fitness and technique – it must be said a few were found wanting but effort was commendable. We were passed by an authentic shaven legged XC whippet on an 80mm Ti hardtail. Shortbread shot off in pursuit but this guy was hardcore-jey and our best was bested. Moral – don’t try and you’ll never fail.
Reaching the top we swept down to bridge/ford at Little Langdale Beck. Only Doug was brave/stupid enough to attempt the ford, failing half way across in 2 foot of water – cue hilarity. To be fair, by this point, 1 hour into the ride, the incessant rain had ensured we were all already soaked.
More loose, rocky climbing followed as we made our way towards Tilberthwaite, the descent however proved worth the effort, providing the classic lakes mix of big loose rock and bigger rocky slabs. A few sketchy overtaking manoeuvres kept riders alert and worried.
From Tilberthwaite we pushed on towards Hodge Close, not keen to stop too long in the rain. As was becoming a theme more climbing followed… We stopped at the massive disused quarry at Hodge Close for quick bite to eat and gawp at the massive drop into the water below.
We hurried on losing all the height we’d gained on the road only to turn round and gain it all again off-road. At this point there was some dissention in the ranks and muttering about “more bloody uphill” – but this was sheep from the goats riding and if you can’t take the heat get out the kitchen (nowt like a mixed metaphor).
The climb was a nice wee tester up some sweet singletrack – as was commented later, probably a better climb than descent.
Following negotiation it was decided that despite the rain we’d carry on for a bit of an extra loop up through Iron Keld plantation. The long tough climb to the top put us on to start of the exciting downhill back towards the Skelwith Bridge road. Several Lions took the opportunity to liberally splash a group of comely young fillies walking up the track, fostering good relations between walkers and bikers. Top marks. We re-grouped at the bottom to compare notes and stories of narrow escapes.
By now, wetter than I’d ever been (short of being in the bath), we entered the final third of the ride. A bit of a road climb brought us to the top of a sweet, secret, woodland downhill. The fast sweeping track had two casualties as Distillery binned it into the wall at the bottom after wildly overestimating his level of skill, and Dan (or Dave?) had an “off” but managed to pull the “out-of-control-but-elegant-dismount” manoeuvre with aplomb.
Moving swiftly on we headed back towards Elterwater, briefly retracing our route before branching off to the top of Elterwater quarry. At this point things went a little x-files as the group became separated – some may argue this was due to poor guiding skills, others may say people weren’t paying attention. History will be my judge.
So from this point until back to the car I can’t report on the ride of Starkey, Dan, Ben, Dave and Doug.
Unfortunately they missed a short but very sweet, fast and straight ripper back down into Elterwater. RsPkT.
After some faffing wondering where the rest of them had got to and an abortive search mission the remaining Lions pressed on back to High Close youth hostel and the final descent back down Loughrigg Terrace. A group of waiting MTBers were awed as lions sped elbow to elbow through the rocky turns – they may never achieve this type of skill, guile and commitment. Pity them.
Finally arriving back at the car, soaked but happy, we were re-united with our missing brothers. Four and a half hours in constantly pishing rain had been a challenge but a rewarding one. The day showcased proper commitment to the cause.
Those lucky enough to have dry clothes got changed then we headed into Ambleside for a well deserved cup of tea and a pasty.
Pasties devoured, we parted company with Hog, who had family matters to attend to, and convoyed it back to the night’s accommodation – the legendary Uncle Monty’s. On arrival we were greeted by Team Cove’s Bird and Team Cove’s Bird’s Mate who had got a fire roaring, beers chilled and dips and nibbles prepared. How civilised.
In true Steak and Chips style a massive meat platter was in place for the BBQ which, despite the rain, was fired up in the back garden. In all we had prime steak, venison sausage, venison burgers and pork and haggis sausages. We all got tore in and were rapidly stuffed to the gunwales. We were even posh enough to have dessert. Fantastic.
There then followed many more beers and an evening of talking complete pish round the table; Starkey insisting that all he looked for in a woman was a love of bikes, farting and sex – good luck with that…The evening was given added character by the extreme nature of the farting that was rife among us. Things got to the stage that Distillery was required to leave the house if he felt a guff bubbling. Even then the dense fog of chuff gas could’ve been cut with a knife. All were guilty but some more than others. RsPkt. We eventually trooped off to kip, all a little the worse for wear but happy.
Sunday dawned slightly better than Saturday and after a B&B style breakfast of salty porridge and sausage (insert comment here) we packed up to get to the start point for the day’s ride – Ravenstondale.
We set off up the road towards Applegarth and after a few kms climbing on tarmac we dived off on to a bridleway heading down. Upon reaching a farm things took a turn for the boggy, in the next 500yards we watched as both Distillery and Quad had over the bars moments into the mire. Schoolboy errors that belied their many years of experience.
We regrouped and dove into the next section of track, a steepish but wildly eroded cart track through low hanging trees. Under pressure from myself Distillery again binned it into a ditch. The steep slippy rock pitch into the ford at bottom saw all riders bottle it. A great section of track. Pity it’s only wee.
We carried on towards Sedbergh, contouring around the side of the Howgills and following the narrow bridleway hugging the hillside. I managed to puncture and rip my tyre but a quick fix with some toothpaste tube sorted us out.
A pleasant but largely uneventful (apart from the 1 in 4 slime covered concrete farm track that scared a few of us on the corners…) pootle in the sun(!) spat us out into Sedbergh where we stopped to refuel outside the graveyard.
From there we faced up to the day’s main challenge – the ascent of The Calf, at 674m the highest point around. Fortunately at the first mapping decision point of the day we made the right choice and avoided a lengthy hike-a-bike. Instead we were rewarded with an unrelenting steep grassy ascent that split the pack wide open. Quad and Shortbread spread their wings and opened up a huge gap on the rest of us who struggled on as they disappeared over the horizon. Distillery was making a mockery of claims his 35lb free-ride monster bike would be his undoing by making steady progress up the hill too. Starkey and I brought up the rear.
At about half way up the weather started hinting at a turn for the worse. Inevitably as we neared the summits the cloud came down and the rain started hurling. As thunder and lightning crashed around us, we re-grouped, battened down the hatches and pressed on for the top of The Calf.
Despite cleaning it up to this point even Quad and Shortbread were reduced to push/carry for the final section of steep loose rock. By this point we could see the summit. But rather than summit we decided to take the slight shortcut to the top of the descent into Bowderdale. The rain and wind was not encouraging us to linger on the tops for longer than necessary.
I recommended a drop of saddle before we headed down the steep valley side. It was a wise move. A slippy, grassy, rocky, rutted and steep plummet followed that had us all on the edge of control (or in couple of cases over that edge). It’s one of the few descents I know in the Lakes where I have to stop because of leg and arm pump. We reached the bottom grinning, comparing notes wiping mud from our eyes and wondering where the hell Starkey had got to.
He eventually appeared picking his way down the slope. He looked grim and eventually declared the descent “2 out of 10” – there’s no pleasing some people!
The track continued down the valley following a narrow swoopy piece of singletrack that demanded total concentration. After about 2km of this the track started heading more uphill and the effects of weeks of incessant rain became more and more apparent as we rode through what was effectively a small river. The mud and water just added to the demands of an already technical piece of riding. Nearing the end of the valley Distillery’s bike decided to eat his chain, the problem was solved with crude brute forced applied via a spanner. Job done we pushed on to the final drop to the road. This turned out to be one long bog/mud bath/river ride and we arrived at the road even more soaked than we had been.
At this point something magical happened. While a couple of us took the opportunity to have a pee Starkey declared that he was so wet he might as well piss himself. A figure of speech we’ve all heard before. But this time we watched agog as Starkey spread his legs and to the words “look at me, look at me, I’m doing it, I’m doing it” proceeded to relieve himself into his shorts. As the damp stain spread a childish grin covered his face as he dived into a nearby stream and just lay there. There were a mixture of reactions from the rest of us; from horror to hilarity – is it right to watch a grown man piss himself? Right or wrong it certainly provided a fitting finale to the day!
We then road ganged it back to the cars and some dry clothes before having a quick pint in the local hostelry.
Despite the unbelievably bad weather it had turned out to be a great weekend – copious food, flowing drink and spirits that could not be dampened by the weather - a real case of Fanylion tenacity overcoming the odds. We packed the cars, said our fond farewells and headed off home, happy in the knowledge we would soon meet again for more excellent riding. Maybe Sheldon will shit himself next time.
Team Cove,
OUT.
Riders present
Hog
Shortbread
Cove
Distillery
Quad
Starkey
Ben
Doug
Dan
Dave
Enjoyment level
High Five!