North York Moors Bike Packing Dec 2019

We'd decided a while ago that this weekend would be a good time to head out for an adventure. Friday looked clear on the diary front from mid-morning, the only minor problem was the weather, which was pretty unapologetically rubbish. Wall to wall rain. Unremitting grimness.

In a fit of intelligence, Phil looked at the rain radar map and the weather forecast (the most optimistic one we could find), and it seemed that the only place in striking distance that might work was the North York Moors. A short amount of research brought up a couple of gravel biking routes like the Moors and Shores, and a 3 day bike packing route that Phil had seen online somewhere.
Armed with both routes that kind of did a similar route, but with various variations, we drove through the rain and sleet until somewhere just East of York the rain stopped, blue sky appeared and things began to look up.

What a jolly good idea!

We started at Lockton, 2 mountain bikes and me on the Fairlight Secan- a gravel bike. (the reason for this was because I haven't bikepacked on the Secan before, and thought this would be a nice break in for it). It was about 1pm, so 3 hours of light left - not a whole lot of time, but enough to get a few kilometres under the tyres and try to find somewhere to camp.

Despite the fact that couple of routes that we found both went clockwise around the moors and the Cinder track, we decided that anti-clockwise was the best idea. It would mean cycling towards Scarborough and a bit beyond on the friday. There was a variety of road and track as we made our way towards the coast. The main thing we noticed was a significant downshift in temperature at about 2pm. Nothing drastic, but a certain change in ambient temperature.

Sunny afternoon riding

Onward towards Scarborough, and then a skirt around the outskirts took us onto Cycleway Number 1- the Cinder track, which is essentially mostly an old railway track going from Scarborough to Whitby. Looking at the map, we could see a couple of pubs in towns on the way where we might find some solace, a beer, and potentially somewhere to sleep. The problem was, by the time we got to the pub in question, it was already pretty much dark- at 4pm, and they didn't start serving food until 5:30.
Out feet were cold, it was only going to get colder, so we locked our bikes up outside and wandered in.
The post election analysis was on the big screen TV, there was a lot of "politics" talk going on around us and it cost more than £11 for 3 pints of Taylors Landlord. I was not keen to stay.

A quick google showed another option just a couple of km away, and that was next to a wood which might provide shelter for camping. If that didn't work, we figured dropping back to the trail to see if we could get into a field for the night. If the worst came to the worst, we could come back to the pub for a bite of food, but it might be intelligent to scope out campsites now- especially as it was now 4:45 and it was pitch black.

Lights on and up the road to the next pub. Which was very very closed.
Dammit. And the wood wasn't much cop for camping either. Right- the decision was made to go down the next road back to the trail and see what we could see.
Descent... right into... another pub. An open one.
With a roaring fire, a selection of ales, a decent menu.... and, could we possibly camp anywhere please?
I think they thought we were mad- but they had a paddock which was regularly used as a camp ground in the summer, so on the condition that we would drink their beer (I mean, come on... we aren't savages)- we pitched up for the night and trooped in for the best double burger I think I have had since Poco Loco in Chamonix.
The beer was excellent and the atmosphere convivial. If you get a chance, go to the Hayburn Wyke Inn. It is blinking amazing.

Full of food and good cheer, we retired to the tents and slept well. It was a little chilly, but nothing severe.

Awake at 730 just as the sun was beginning to show signs of dawning, breakfast in bed (as it were), and a pack up of all the kit. Luckily the paddock had a little shed which we locked the bikes up in, so they were dry and ready to go. The tents had a lot of dew on them, (and it might have drizzled for a short time in the night, but I can't remember).

Dawning breakfast

Up and off for bang on 830 with the moon still high in the sky.

All packed and ready to go

We trundled up the Cinder track towards Robin Hood bay, fairly delightful and non-complex cycling for an hour or so, with speeds ranging from slow to fairly fast. The views onto the North Sea were spectacular, but crikey it was cold. Even with neoprene socks and overshoes on, my toes were like ice. The hands were fine, with a set of Primaloft sealskins lobster mitts on, but my feet!

The Cinder Track

Up to Whitby and then inland- the bit we were slightly concerned about as there was a fairly vicious wind coming across from the west, everything from this point on might get a little more challenging.
Just as we left Whitby I noticed a bit of a problem with my steering- something wasn't quite right. Then there was a spongy feeling as I was cornering- ah. Flat.

So we stopped for a few minutes to change tyres and find the culprit (a thorn wedged into the tyre) before carrying on- ideally to find a coffee shop to warm our feet up at. We'd been on the go for a couple of hours, but it was still too early for coffee shops to be open- so we thought.
When we finally came across one, our suspicions were confirmed, except we were out not by minutes, but by months.
Closed til April.

Great.
Through Ruswurp and into Sleights and a most welcome sight. A bunch of carol singers standing outside a Butchers that was selling coffee and mince pies.
We stopped and partook of the food (but not the singing) and stood around trying to get some kind of life back into our feet. It didn't really work, but we felt much refreshed as we contemplated the different routes back down to Beckton. It wasn't all that far, to be honest, so it wasn't like we were going to need to hoon it, but what with the prevailing wind, it wasn't going to be a great idea to go over the tops of the moor if we could help it.

Coffee! Mince Pies! Carol Singers!

A plan formed and off we went, down into Eskdale and before we knew it, Grosmont, a tearoom at the station and a roaring fire. Cups of tea, a cornish pastie and lunch was declared. Feet still cold, but became a little less numb as we sat in the corner of the crowded cafe. A couple of steam engines were puffing away outside, so there must have been some kind of do on.

After a short while we peeled ourselves away from the fire and went to carry on the riding. Bad timing meant that we then stood on the wrong side of the level crossing for about 10 mins while the trains did their moving around business. Not great- as we chilled off a bit, but then, within about 200 metres of starting, Fords.
Not one, not two, but three of them in quick succession. So much for any semblence of slightly warmer feet. Not any more.

Top of the hill above the fords

Off down the valley, with a few ups and downs, and a very picturesque shot of Phil and Chris with a steam train thrashing down the tracks behind them.

Across the way we could see the huge buildings of RAF fylingdales, and the main road that led straight back to Lockton. There was still a couple of hours of light left, and a straight beeline down a ridiculously busy main road was not what we really had in mind, luckily there was a bridleway across the road that would lead its winding way around the back of the RAF base to drop us onto the road a mere 2km from the car. A much better option....

This looks like a good place to ride a bike....

This is the best the track got.

So we started out on this bridleway which quickly turned into a quagmire. Still cycleable. Just, but all in super low gears (which I didn't really have) and with not a lot of grip- (which I certainly didn't have). It took us a fair amount of time to get across the next few kilometres, and it was probably the hardest work of the entire trip- but entirely good fun. Once we hit hard ground, we refueled on haribo before heading around on decent gravel tracks to the base, and then around again until we made it back to the main road.

Haribo stop.

Lights on for safety as we cycled back along the main road to the car, pretty pooped, and well in time for last light.

It took an hour and a half in a warm car with the heater on and me massaging my feet until I had any kind of feeling back in them, and now a couple of days later, my big toes are still a bit numb and tingly. Not great. I might have to invest in some Goretex cycling shoes as most of my miles seem to be in the cold over winter.... never had feet do this before though.

Back at the car.

All in all, a great, short trip. Yes, we could have done the whole route in a day- easily, but the idea was to have a bit more of an adventure. The Secan held up well to the bikepacking thing, I was on 700c tyres, but would love to have a bit of a go on 650bs as an experiment... not going to buy a set just to see if I like them though.
The other thought was to get a dynamo front wheel. If we were out for a few days the Anker powerpack that I use would have powered the phone and the Wahoo enough- but for any longer than that I'd need another one... hence the thought about a dynamo.
We shall see.
Strava routes below: