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.
Hope Valley and Mam Tor
March 08, 2003, Peak District
The ride had been planned for a good couple of months. No-one could have possibly forecasted the weather that far in advance, could they? The week preceding the ride was mild, sunny and fine. However on the day, everything turned for the worse. Cold, rain, wind. Could Team FanyLion cope?
The first outing of 2003 for Team FanyLion looked likely to be a good one. A good turnout was promised with the long awaited Team debut from Team Sambo, Chamonix Veteran. First time appearances were to come from Team Medivac and Team Bergerac, friends of the Oldham Boys.
However all would not go so well as Team Ewok pulled out first, long before the weekend even arrived. Team Cliff Diver was the next casualty, ringing the night before to declare he had broken two ribs playing football (he can manage to fall down a 30-foot high cliff and escape unscathed, but having a kick about with mates from work results in broken ribs!). Next casualty was Team Shack, ringing on the morning of departure complaining of food poisoning.
As our depleted Team sat in the car park at Derwent Reservoir it soon became obvious that all was not well. Where were Team Bergerac and Team Medivac? We waited for 30mins past the agreed meeting time and decided that we could wait no more. Myself, Team Shimano Starkey, Team Mastiles, Team Shorts in Winter and Team Sambo set off, the team a shadow of its former glory.
The ride we were to do is a Peak Classic, taking in the now famous Hagg Farm Descent (this descent currently appears at No9 in MBR magazine’s ‘Best Downhills in Britain’ article). Everyone was looking forward to tackling the drop.
As we circled Derwent Reservoir it was obvious there had been a lot of rain overnight, and the water was overflowing over the dam walls in a spectacular plume of foaming white spray. Very impressive.
Team Shorts in Winter declared he had done well to even make it out for the ride as he had been drinking at a £1-a-pint student evening the night before (ahh, I remember them well) and had managed to spend £30! He had completed his evening of alcohol abuse by downing a vodka, a whisky and an aftershock one after the other. Madman.
Ben’s drinking soon took its toll though. As we struggled up the first climb of the day Ben was looking a bit green around the gills to say the least. The weather also took a turn for the worst, and a light drizzle added to the already chilly temperature.
As we rode on towards Hagg Farm Ben was dropping further and further behind. We waited for him to catch up and he looked worse than ever. He had been busy throwing up after the first climb and said he felt very rough. I doubted he would complete the ride. I needn’t have worried.
As we passed Hagg Farm we were at the most exposed point of the ride so far. We now felt the full force of the biting wind and our faces were being stung by horizontal rain, now getting heavier. We were on flat ground, riding into the wind and having to change into bottom gear to keep going, the wind was so strong.
After yet another long wait for Ben we were at the top of the Hagg Farm descent. We had ridden up the descent last year and knew there was a gate half way down. Mastiles kindly volunteered to go down and hold the gate for the rest of us. We gave him a minute or so and shot off after him, yelping and whooping in time honoured fashion.
The descent was good, but none of us thought it was worthy of being labelled the 9th best downhill in Britain. Our very own Black Hambleton drop knocks spots off it!
We regrouped at the bottom of the descent and as we started a short road section we were very surprised to see Cliff Diver and Team Bergerac pull up! Only an hour and a half late (pretty good by Danny’s standards). Team Bergerac introduced himself, got his bike out of Dan’s car boot and joined us. Dan would meet us later back at the car park. The Team was now 6 in number.
The next climb was a killer. We had also ridden this last year and knew what was coming. With boulders the size of fists traction was very difficult, and as the trail got steeper and steeper we were all eventually forced to dismount and push. Ben said he was now feeling better after his Technicolor yawn. Better out than in, obviously.
As we gained height again from the valley bottom, so the wind and rain increased in ferocity, and as we reached the summit of the climb we were being pelted by driving rain and hammered by the wind. We stopped yet again to wait for Ben, who was a long time coming. Each time we stopped for him we were getting colder and colder and our feet and hands were getting numb and it was obvious from the looks on the faces of a few riders that they didn’t want to be there. Ben then arrived. When asked if he had been vomming again he replied that he felt fine and had in fact stopped to take some photos. I ask you! There we are, freezing our nads off, thinking he’s ill, and there he is, bloody Team David Bailey, snapping away to his heart’s content!! At least he wasn’t puking any more.
We rode on and took the right turn towards Jagger’s Clough, a fast and very steep drop to a small stream. As we started the descent I took the lead, only to be passed at great speed by another rider half way down. Who was it? Team Shorts in Winter, never one to be scared of speed? No. Team Sambo, Veteran of Cham? No. Team Bergerac, part of the Team Extreme Faction? No. It was Mastiles, the mild mannered janitor, screaming like a woman and flying past me like Steve Peat!! Amazing!! Then the track suddenly steepened and swung down and right off-camber and I started to pray for Mastiles. “Please don’t let him fall off, please don’t let him fall off.” A crash at this speed would have been very painful, and Mike admitted things had got a bit out of hand as the track fell away beneath him. He survived though, and had truly ‘Pushed the Envelope’, finding new skills he didn’t even know he had. Respect Mighty Mastiles.
The rain was still falling but we were now back at the valley bottom (different valley now though) so were sheltered from the wind at least. Another road section lead us to the foot of a good technical climb and we gained altitude once more and said hello to Mr Wind again, though by now were all very wet and cold and starting to feel tired. Team Starkey was looking distinctly uncomfortable and said he wanted to get back to the car park as soon as possible. However my standard answer that “The quickest way back is to keep going” was no comfort to him. (I wasn’t lying either). We carried on through deep mud and puddles, heads down, huddled over our handlebars trying to keep the wind and rain out. Sheldon was looking to be in a real old state by now. Obviously his new showerproof Race Face jacket was struggling to keep the elements out and Sheldon’s face was a picture, a mask of pure pain and suffering as we started another drop down to the valley bottom.
This descent was the best of the day. Huge steps and massive rock slabs tested suspension, bike handling ability and underpant stain-resisting abilities to the limit. The amount of water run off had transformed parts of the trail into a river bed, and cold tired riders with numb hands struggled to control their bikes down the super-technical descent.
Team Bergerac showed fine skills and total disregard for his own safety as he bounced off rocks and let out the occasional “Whooaa!!” as he picked his way down behind me, arse twitching like a rabbit’s nose.
We regrouped at the bottom and waited for Team Starkey. When he finally arrived, walking, Mastiles informed us the unimaginable had happened: Sheldon had FALLEN OFF!!! FALLEN OFF??!!?!?!? How could this have happened? This is only Sheldon’s second fall in nearly 8 years of biking (due to the fact he always gets off when the trail drops or rises anything more than a 1:500 slope). Sheldon said he was too badly hurt to ride on (but I didn’t believe him). So what do we do now? Order a helicopter to come and get him? Use the Team FanyLion teleportation device to beam him back to the car? Use The Force? No. We rode off and left him.
After telling Sheldon there really was no other way back except to go on, Sheldon remounted (I told you he could do it didn’t I?) and rode on slowly. As the rain was now getting heavy Mastiles volunteered to stay with the stricken Sheldon and nurse him back to the car park. Mike had to yell and shout at him a few times but they got back OK. We got changed and had pie, peas and gravy and cups of tea from the car park cafe. It was here that I laughed so much I nearly collapsed. To my extreme surprise, upon returning from the café with a brew for Sheldon, the sight of a naked man, riding a mountainbike around the car park greeted me. It was Mastiles. And he had a semi-on. The reason for this streak was that Mastiles received a warning a while ago, for the crime of ‘Whittering’, for which his punishment was to streak at the next ride. Always a loyal Team member, Mastiles carried out his punishment in great style, riding his bike around a packed car park, waving at passing cars and scaring families, children and women with his amazing lighthouse impressions. Afterwards we all agreed: Mastiles is a small bloke with a large penis.
After we had all calmed down we drove to a pub, had a quick beer with Danny then he and Team Bergerac headed off. There were only five of us left now.
We drove to Buxton, booked into the hotel (5 of us with 9 reservations: no refund: Team members take note for future rides), shit, shower, shave and out into Buxton. First pub was rubbish, second pub was excellent, steaks all round, treacle sponge and custard, then home to sleep. We were all shattered.
Sunday morning and the rain had dissipated overnight. Whilst still windy, blue skies greeted us. After we had eaten a whole farmyard for breakfast Mastiles headed off (he always intended to go home) and Sheldon went home too (pussy), saying his knees were hurting. With no sign of Team Downhill Maniac (who was supposed to be meeting us on the Sunday) only the Chamonix Hardcore Massive were left to ride. Myself, Team Sambo and Team Shorts in Winter headed over to Edale to tackle a different valley. This would be hell. I knew because we rode this area last year and it was tough. Very tough.
The first climb of the day was a killer. We rode about half way up it, then dismounted and pushed the rest of the way up. Awesome views of the valley behind us and Jacob’s Ladder in the distance greeted us and made the hard slog worthwhile.
We rode across the flat expanse of the ridge, the wind behind us now as we zipped towards Mam Tor, Team Shorts in Winter leading the way.
A technical and very steep descent to Mam Tor, a windy, slippy ascent round the back of Mam Tor and we arrived at the top of another steep little technical drop, which was very good to ride. Yet more little drops and we rode into Castleton to be treated by Team Sambo to fish ‘n’ chips and cans of pop. Nice one.
We then left Castleton with full bellies and happy hearts to start the return ride. The trouble is, all those nice little technical descents were now bitchslagmotherfuckingbastardwhores of climbs, and we toiled and sweated and eventually pushed our way back up to Mam Tor, ready for one last descent back to the car.
As we packed up ready to head for home, the wind dropped and the sun came out and it was a beautiful afternoon, hopefully a taste of what is to come for the rest of Spring. The Peaks really is a place of extremes and makes for extremely tough but very rewarding mountainbiking. No doubt we will return.
We packed our cars and said our goodbyes, Ben heading back to Manchester for more £1-a-pint nights, watching Countdown and exams, whilst I dropped Sam off at Leeds station for him to return to the smog, pollution, extortionate prices and threat of chemical gas attacks in London.
An enjoyable, if rather frustrating weekend marred by extreme weather on the Saturday, plus an unfortunate turn out of riders. However, there were many high points to look back on: Team Sambo’s first full outing, Mastiles’ amazing descent, Mastiles unselfishly nursing Team Starkey back to the car, and Mastiles’ stupendous naked ride around the car park.
This weekend surely belonged to the Mighty Mastiles. Long may he keep whittering. Maximum Respect.
Team Hodgson Out.
Riders present
Team Mastiles
Team Shorts in Winter
Team Starkey
Team Hodgson
Paul Clifford (Application to join Team received, Team name yet to be allocated)
Enjoyment level
Not bad