Mum is staying in Gargrave in her little camper van, at a singing thing which she does fairly often. Goes somewhere often quite local stays over a weekend with other folk singing types, plays her infernal device… etc. And camps over the weekend, she seems to get a great deal out of the process. And I get to do her chores while she’s away… which I have mixed feelings about.
Anyway, as she was down in Gargrave I thought I would ride down to see her then ride home, whole journey as planned on the OS Maps app was ~32 miles which should be well within the range of my bike on a full charge. And with the exception of one section of the route was all on minor roads or bridleways. I got lost once (seems to becoming a theme of my longer rides) but I realised pretty quickly that I had missed my turn and got back on track. The only other iffy place was when the trail I was following went into an enormous field before splitting into a footpath and bridleway, I ended up following the wrong route (TBH there was only one visible trail in the grass and I just followed that) when I got the the kissing gate style stile out of the field I realised I was in the wrong place which was just down the hill from where I was… so technically I got “lost” twice.
From there actually getting down to Gargrave wasn’t that hard, along a lane called Mark House Lane, which as far as I could tell didn’t go near an actual Mark House at all[1], actually left Gargrave from the back of Gargrave House… maybe Mark owned that. Anyway the lane at the start was a fairly wide two lane with a white line road that shrank down into a narrow sunken track, I actually followed parts of it both into and out of Gargrave, as the only other option was to go a huge detour down the Ribble Valley as there were once again a certain lack of crossing points that were whet I felt were safe, so I’d have to go maybe five miles out of my way just to get a bridge across the river. A ford (which was my only other option) just isn’t realistic through a fairly major river on a push bike (eMTB not withstanding).
Sat and talked to mum for about an hour before coming home, as mentioned left Gargrave back up Mark House Lane this time instead of going back onto the bridleway across a field I just followed it all the way to Bell Busk and from there onto the road to Otterburn and Hellifield. Right from Bell Busk (which isn’t even big enough to be a hamlet really) there were signs ahead that the road was closed. The road I live on has been “closed since late April, but apart from a single day hasn’t actually been impassable even for most motor vehicles – been nice and quiet though. So when I saw the road closed sign I took it with a fairly large pinch of salt, I got on a long the road a good way though and there was an actual line of cones across the road with a Road Closed sign… this looked a bit more serious, I kept on.
Turning round would mean doing the Coniston Cold to Hellifield section of the route on the A65, it’s not a nice bit of road and I really wanted to avoid it (not least as a busy A road on a summer Sunday can get a bit busy). So I want past the sign and carried on, bit further down the road and I realised that there was – in the distance – a fence (construction safety fence) right across the road, with an excavator right in the middle of the road and what looked like work men some distance behind it… “Fuck” was the polite word I used to describe my feelings, I actually turned round… and then in a very lucky turn of events I turned round again and approached the work site.
Nobody there just a sign tell cyclists to inform the workers that they were there so the could be guided past (that must have pissed of the tradies just trying to get their jobs done. And a narrow gap between the construction site (mending a wall/bridge not quite sure what) fence and the road wall, perfectly sized for my fat bottom to ride down. And the high vis clothed people were a couple of teenaged girls on a couple of equines further down the road who I gave a wide berth to.
After that it wasn’t that much of a ride home, I went out of the back of Long Preston to go up what must once have been the old road to Settle which eventually meets up with Mitchell lane, which comes out of the back of Settle (easier/nicer way to get up onto the Malham/Airton road), but I turned down the hill just short of the Mitchell lane junction to go down the hill toward the (former) Toll House at Runley Mill but I turned off that onto Brockhole lane which I played on/in during my childhood, the far end was always known as Watery Lane due to the stream that ran along it for a way, I liked to buy wooden sailing boats which inevitably ran aground so I had to get wet feet to rescue.
I got wet feet today as I decided that the narrow strip of path that runs next to the stream was too narrow (see fat arse above), then realised that the stream was deeper than it looked and I realised that it is very slimming to have wet feet. I made it to Booths by half three for a quick toilet break and a cheapo reduced Chicken Caesar Salad (the lettuce wasn’t great) which hit the spot and a long with an energy drink and some chocolate gave me the fuel I needed to climb the final hill home.
My bike by this point had gone down to three bars (I went from around fourth fifths of my battery when leaving Gargrave to under half by the time I reached Long Preston, I get the feeling the tracking of the battery charge isn’t very accurate), and I was a little worried that I would have to finish off the ride with zero power – it’s possible to ride that way but not a great deal of fun and I had at least one fairly large hill to get over to get home. As it worked out by the time I got to Giggleswick I was down to two bars (10%?), so I figured that I could get up Craven Bank Lane[2] which is my preferred hill to climb (it’s nicer than Buck Haw Brow), it was definitely a bit of a push, my bum was pretty sore by this point, I’d hit 30 miles in Settle and was already on my longest ride since I was in my twenties (rode the Dent in one day from Leeds which is ~60 miles).
Got home before five not entirely sure when as I wasn’t really watching the time, but my bike was away/on charge before five and I came in from doing that at around 16:40[3] had a shower and realised I was quite singed, my arms especially are sore, I’ve washed and moisturised them so not much else I can do for them. They’re not major burns I’ve had worse, but I’m normally more careful of my skin so I’m feeling a little stupid now.
[1] Done some research into Mark House, this was near the river in Bell Busk, and the track ran from Gargrave House through to Bell Busk and was still somewhat drivable right up into the 1970s (I find this hard to believe as parts of it are too narrow/sunken I would think to have ever been anything other than a cart track. But that is what I have read.
[2] There is some debate in our house as to the name of this road. It runs from the Tems Beck/Tems House (now Style House) area of Giggleswick up past the school Chapel going over the hill and eventually after cross the A65/Settle by-pass meets three other lanes, it’s continuation would then lead it you to Eldroth, so you could call it the Giggleswick to Eldroth road. It is marked on every map I have ever seen as Craven Bank Lane. Indeed this is the modern name for it. Dad who was brought up in Giggleswick insists that is called High Rigg, and has always been known locally as High Rigg. When he was at school in Giggleswick he was made to run up it as part of the school sports, can’t have been much fun for him as his legs are even shorter than my own. When I attended the same school, we called the hill the Bastard, fore perhaps obvious reasons.
[3] I live in the UK we use 24hr and 12hr clocks pretty much as we want, I prefer to use 24hr in things I write like this as it is instantly obvious which time of day I am talking about.