Category Archives: national park

around home, bikepacking, bikes, MTB, national park, UK

A small local adventure

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Rather amusingly, parts of England – including where I live – are in the grip of an official heatwave (Level 3!).  The weather has been extremely settled & good recently, but it is amusing that there have to be nationwide alerts if summer actually turns up properly on consecutive days as no-one seems to know what to do (the last heatwave was in 2006).  Level 4 is apparently a national emergency, so I look forward to seeing what state of panic ensues if that happens.

With sleeping inside being a little difficult (at least it’s not humid) I thought last night was a perfect opportunity to try out a few of the bike-packing items I’ve bought recently.  That is – a Thermarest Neoair inflatable mattress that provides a lot of mattress considering how tiny it packs down, an Alpkit bivy bag and a very cheap & lightweight sleeping bag.

So with my sleeping bag strapped to the handlebars of my singlespeed & everything else loaded into my Camelbak (better & more permanent carrying solutions will appear after new bike is collected), I headed out into a very pleasant evening to scout around the forest for a suitable bivy site for the night.  It was very nice riding in the cool of the evening & there were few people around (it’s nice to see someone riding an identical bike to one which you had ten years ago)  – but I didn’t want to get too far from home as the following morning I had to ride home, shower, make lunch, breakfast & then ride to work before seven o’clock.

On my well worn route to the centre of the forest, I found a few potential sites & eventually settled in a small clearing in some woods well off the beaten path.  It’s a simple arrangement to set up – ground sheet, mattress then sleeping bag inside bivy bag on top of all that – so I wasn’t expecting many problems & there weren’t any.  It has been sometime since I’ve slept under the stars, so it was nice to watch the night take over from dusk as I lay staring at the sky.  Shortly after, a herd of horses walked through seemingly crashing through the undergrowth (I bet they weren’t, but it was so quiet it sure sounded like that), grabbing a supper of grass noisily as they went.  I was a little nervous that they’d be so startled by my presence that I’d some how get trodden on, but it wasn’t quite as bad as coming out of a tent in Nakuru National Park & discovering a herd of giant water buffalo staring at you.  A frog visited me too – that was odd as I was nowhere near any water, I thought.

Anyway, the rest of the night was uneventful – but it was still a bit warm, so sleep was fitful.  Eventually the alarm went at five and I got up, decamped, watched a herd of deer close by and rode home – somehow I got to work even earlier than normal.  So a successful little outing trying the gear & adding a small amount of adventure to my normally quiet week.  It’s nice to know the forest is so convenient for more than just riding – it’ll be easy to head out to safe surroundings to test more overnight gear in the future.

bikes, friends, GPS, MTB, national park, snow, USA

Snow, Arches & Captain Ahab

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Waking up Wednesday morning, well before dawn it was pretty apparent it was a lot colder and the tent was sitting a little heavy. Sure enough, when the light came around there was a fair layer of snow on most things except the ground – from which it melted pretty quickly. Not overly keen to ride in the cold & snow, we finally got to Arches NP – not that I was overly fussed as I’d had a good visit there two years ago (I still haven’t got a better camera, oops) & the weather was warmer & sunnier.  I thought the others should at least see a little bit of it, so wasn’t too put out to be wandering around in the cool of the morning. Still we briefly enjoyed seeing the desert with a bit of snow on it, once we drove high enough, and wandering around a bit in the spring chill under various arches.

More interesting for the little bushes dusted with snow than catching Finn mid-step

There I am

The rest of the structure towering above me – I’m just visible

With a bit more driving & a little stroll, we saw Delicate Arch from the reverse angle to my last visit

Jackie had opted for the comforts of town over wandering around rocks – after a cafe lunch, stocking up on delicious gooey raspberry brownie (that proved a fantastic post-ride item earlier in the week – maybe after the mud ride), a quick trip back to camp to load bikes into my car, Megan & I were off to meet Jackie to ride Amasa Back & Captain Ahab in the still overcast, but slowly warming, afternoon.

Jeremy had been raving about Captain Ahab since well before I even got to Utah – & it was this recommendation that saw him reach the highest levels of our esteem.  Amasa Back is in the same area & is a Moab classic ride apparently (I’d never heard of it), so we decided to combine the two – which is completely achievable.  With a nice rocky downhill straight off the road, we crossed the only creek of the week (it was tiny) and were hit by a nice climb with, I think, some nice challenging step-ups even if the gradient wasn’t too steep.  I stalled on one particularly optimistic attempt – couldn’t move forward & close to losing balancing over backwards; a charitable push got me going again.

It should now be obvious why the new trail is named so

Even the climbs are enjoyable in this place

We continued along the wide rocky track past the beginning of Ahab & soon we were skirting around the top of Jackson Hole.  With large cliffs dropping all the way down to said hole, there was plenty to think about even if the trail wasn’t particularly hard – having said that, there was one really nasty rocky drop/descent that we all walked for quite a few metres.

That’s me & Jackie carefully riding around, & not into, Jackson Hole

That’s Jackson Butte sitting in Jackson Hole

It was a bit more climbing up to the lookout, which once again had us on top of a massive cliff overlooking the Colorado River valley.  We were all lying on the edge of the cliff looking down an awful long way – that was, until Jackie started talking about undercut cliff edges cut a little close to the bone & various fears of plummeting to doom.  I’m not sure what happened, perhaps a whole week’s worth of excitement reached some sort of zenith as we took in the vast views, cliffs, rocks and celebrated so much excellent riding; whatever it was, general frivolity & hilarity ensued as we had much to be excited about (apparently Bieber can speak French).

A summit shot for the bikes (Moab is just behind that ridge)

and the bikers

For such incredible views and vastness, I have disappointingly few photos – there’s the Colorado yet again

Not knowing much about it, except it was there, we decided there was enough time to head out on the Pothole Arch singletrack to close to the end of the mesa (or whatever it was).  Unfortunately, it was perhaps the worst marked trail we’d seen all week – eventually we found the faint red line to follow.  The riding was fun, even if we were going down too much & would need to climb back to the main trail – but the red line just sort of stopped and we weren’t too sure if we even found Pothole Arch.  But there was enough time to tape (the most use my first aid kit had all week, mercifully) up Jackie’s brake hose away from the rear spoke, again, and turn to head back to Ahab.

When Jeremy first mentioned Ahab, I looked it up online & thought it was a bit big for me – I’m not one to wear body armour or go on trails that need such excesses.  This sign didn’t really help, but Jeremy had assured it us that it was no harder than Porcupine Rim.  There was a fair bit of riding around the top of more exposed cliffs, and maybe more climbing than we expected – but we were well used to all that by that stage of the trip, so it wasn’t too bad.

There were some nice little drops to ride

In the sun – we spent a fair bit of the ride wondering if the dark clouds to the east & the west were going to rain, or even snow, on our merry ride

Every so often one feels obliged to stop & look at the view/rest.

The whole trail was most fun and is extremely well designed & built.  I can’t remember too many details, but there were some steep little descents and pinch climbs – all the descents were rollable, I think, one just had to have the confidence (& skill I suppose, as the sign suggests) to do so.  I remember only one obstacle that I couldn’t clear –  a series of three consecutive ~foot-high step-ups, on which Jackie tried her best to acquaint herself with her steerer tube & then saw stars briefly.

For the final mile to two kilometres of the trail before it rejoined the main track back down, there was a sudden & marked change in the riding.  Most importantly, from a self-preservation side of things – we were back right on the top of a very large cliff; the difference this time being that we were riding downhill and therefore much faster, if anything should go pear-shaped it would be a very large pear-shaped thing indeed.  Also, the trail got quite a bit smoother and was just good fun – even if the sign warning that precise bike skills were needed on one really exposed corner was a little worrying.

Yes, that’s a fall to certain extinction a metre to Jackie’s right

All too soon, we were barrelling down the big wide trail back to the stream, grunting up the last little bit to the road and celebrating  with beers & brownie a successful ride (on a day that started so snowy too) that easily ranked as high as the blast I’d had on Porcupine Rim a few days prior for best ride of the trip.  Somehow we managed to persuade ourselves that we deserved a second large Mexican meal in as many dinners – I think we were right.

This is worth watching if you’re interested in trail-building or just riding:

bikes, combe raiders, GPS, MTB, national park, UK

A Dartmoor Hail Ride

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A long-since arranged weekend staying with family in Somerset happily coincided with a later-planned Combe Raiders ride on Dartmoor.  Still trying to build up a bit of bike fitness and always keen to explore new places (my only other visit to Dartmoor was on the way back from Cornwall and consisted mostly of Devonshire Cream Teas and a short stroll), I was looking forward to what promised to be a full day of riding.

When we turned up at the meeting point it transpired that the leader of the ride had some sort of horse-related emergency at home and wouldn’t be making it along.  As I was the one that had found the gpx of the route described in a local guide book, Muggins Me ended up leading the ride.  It worked out reasonable well – with aonly three or four quickly corrected misdirections; no eight kilometre detour this time, as on the last CR ride.  It was a little difficult to set a good pace on the only singlespeed in the group – as there are really only two speeds with such a bike: walk & whatever-the-legs-are-capable-of-at-that-instant.  With a lot of decent climbs I think everyone walked more than they should have with gears as I was quick to get off & push when 32:16 just became a waste of energy with diminishing returns.

Enough of that, we had a thirty-two kilometre loop to look forward to as the sunshine & cloud quickly alternated on what was not too cold a morning.   We started off with a big gravel track descent before following a river upstream briefly and then being hit with a big climb out of the valley.  Things flattened out a bit as we had our longest stretch of country roads.  As the seal ended it was time for the first of many well-earned snack stops – most of which were taken hidden behind big stone walls.

Still smiling at the first stop in the relative dry

Through a monster puddle, a brief coats on or coats off stop, through a farm yard and it was straight into the second proper big climb of the day.  This one was past some old open mine shafts – which I’m guessing were for tin way back when.  As we were starting to get towards moorland proper this climb was not on such a firm surface and strangely as we got near the top the grass got wetter and wetter – as did our feet.

There was another great big stone wall to hide from the wind behind as we ate again – this time almost mobbed by rather inquisitive sheep (“heard of chickens?” – sorry small NZ in-joke).

The view opened up a bit over to where we started from

On to some more moor-like terrain

The sun is out – for now

With a fun, but sodden downhill we were at our furtherest point and after I ummed & ahhed a bit of where the trail actually went and my rear wheel fell out of its stays (QR bent, I may have over tensioned my chain a bit) we found the sweetest bit of singletrack that we had encountered up to that point.  Which was just as well as that little bit (more than forty-five minutes) wasn’t in the book – but was on the trail I had found online.

As we climbed up to Grimspound the clouds rolled in and then all of a sudden the temperature dropped and the hail slowly started.  Up on the ridge it really started pelting us and it was amusing (for me at least, as I was sufficiently protected) to hear yelps of pain as various riders’ ears were struck with the little balls of ice.  Due to it not being too cold, it was quite good fun riding through a hail storm.

The ridge top was a lot longer than we were hoping

With the hail returning we hid under some trees for more food – with no leaves on, the trees weren’t all that much use for shelter.

Just before Hound Tor, we stopped in the relative calm at the Hound of the Basket Meals food van for welcome hot chocolates and tea.  The hail started again as we rode up to Hound Tor and most of us had at least one part of our extremities that were proper cold – for me it was my feet from all the walking across wet ground.  Dropping off the back there was a nice technical (considering the not-quite-peak-state-of-alertness most of us were in) descent before the climb back to a short section of road.

Half the group took a shortcut back to the cars as they were keen to get back for the rugby – I was quite happy that the other half had enough left for the last four kilometres of the route.  The first part of that was very singlespeed friendly terrain – somehow I was still at the front and I enjoyed using up some of the energy I’d held in reserve through a nice reasonably-flowing quick bit of trail before we plunged down to the river and then back up to the car.  By then I’d well warmed up again, but pleased of course to get the wet clothes off & put dry ones on.

That was a great introduction to the so-called wilds of Dartmoor and there wasn’t a part of that wet, not too cold overall ride when I wasn’t enjoying myself.

bikes, combe raiders, GPS, MTB, national park, UK

Exmoor ride – a three year late return

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With February completely devoid of blog posts, it would easy to say that not much really happened.  No travelling & no mountain-biking due to the persistently wet weather & soaking trails in the Forest.  As it turned out, it was just as well I planned very little as all of a sudden I ended up moving house (other end of the village with more living space, bike storage in the garage, fewer flatmates and a lot more conducive to sleep – a slightly longer ride to work, but that’s good) and then my car comprehensively failed its annual inspection and I had to find another in a hurry (unfortunately using money I was setting aside for a new bike & bikepacking gear).

So with March rolling around, I was all too pleased to get away to Somerset and a ride on Exmoor.  It having been much too long since my last visit on a memorably bleak, wet & freezing New Year ride. I was pleased to be back in one of England’s smallest national parks.  My first ride here was on vacation in 2008 when I left Mum at her cousin’s & hightailed it down to Taunton for the first of many visits.

Apparently it was a warmer weekend back at home, but it definitely wasn’t in Somerset – grey skies and the mercury just breaking freezing made for extra layers at the start of the ride, as it happens they stayed on the whole way around.  With the brakes still squealing like a stuck pig on my 1×9, I was single-speeding again – generally not so bad, but there were a few hills that I had to walk part of the way up.  The eight kilometre detour on the road after a missed turning didn’t particularly help.  The ride proper was mostly bridleways, crossing fields and a little bit of singletrack and linking road – a good mix with ample variation.

The furtherest part of the 8 km detour

Considering there were only four of us, we astonishingly managed to extend three hours of riding (37 km) in to a six and a half hour outing!  There were four punctures – I found mine just after Richard had finished fixing the first of his three, a coffee stop (sausage roll for me), and a delightful lunch at a guesthouse – the local corned beef, large slabs of delicious Exmoor blue cheese, ales and pickled shallots made for quite the ploughman’s lunch.  Additionally, we had the dining room to ourselves so the banter and broad put-on West Country accents could keep flowing without disturbing those in the village there to look at the carpets of recently blooming snowdrops.

John heading off to take photos

Richard fixing his first flat under the watchful eye of a large & menacing flock – menacing if you’ve seen Black Sheep, that is

D trying to make a poor choice of photo location more interesting than it was

The only advantage of being out so long was that the day eventually cleared

Not having been offroad for seven weeks I was pleased with how my legs stood up to the punishment that 32:16 hands out after a few hills and a long day in the saddle.  Strangely, up one particularly steep grunt of a climb my chain slipped off as I stood on the pedals (bashed my knee good & proper on the crown of my fork) – I shall have to shorten the chain by a couple of links and bring the eccentric bottom bracket back around a long way. I’m looking forward to Dartmoor with the same friends & a few others in a fortnight’s time.

Back to John & Anna’s for the night – entertaining the twins (three year old Esther & Lydia), a good film, an excuse to cook wonderfully unhealthy French toast & bacon for Sunday breakfast and best of all teaching the girls to ride a pedal bike. Such delight & excitement manifesting itself on faces – & that was just John & Anna! By the time we were all worn out, as well as riding unaided in lines of varying straightness – there was also proper steering and braking action going on. Much fun had by all – even me who was just running up & down the sidewalk/footpath entertaining the alternating bike-less child. A great return to weekends of going places & doing things – just as well, because that’s the first of eleven (at least) in a row.