GLOWING IN THE PEAK DISTRICT

 TEAM GLOW'S ANNUAL RIDE AND SOCIAL EVENT 

Hartington Hall Youth Hostel

Just like buses, there's an absence of cycling weekends then two come along at once. You'd think the recent jaunt up Holme Moss would be enough, but no, here we go again. 

Last weekend was Team Glow's Annual Ride and Social Event (I leave you to work out the acronym) featuring our very own BikeRight! MD as Guest of Honour.

The weekend was impeccably organised, sating 42 women's thirst for riding and networking, whooping and drinking with three differently graded rides on each day emanating from Hartington Youth Hostel and an evening event at the Village Hall. Fair play to all you women for the miles crunched, hills nobbled and hours socialised - you certainly know how to pack it all into a weekend.

Oops!!

On Saturday we went for a pootling 17 mile ‘A’ ride led by Yasmin Green - except you can't pootle anywhere on the Peak District, it's too damn hilly.  Severely undulating country provides a good whack of personal challenges: changing your attitude to climbing (it's no good dreading hills when there's one every 45 seconds), and  tackling the fear of descending (thankful for that bit of extra weight keeping you firmly in touch with terra firma).

The added thrill on Sunday was developing these skills whilst gusty winds threatened to blow us off our bikes at any unpredictable moment.  We ‘B’ riders handled it with aplomb; it was the ‘D’ women who called it a hurricane.

Staying upright this time

Sunday's 25 mile circular led by Glynis Francis, founder of Team Glow,  from Hartington to The Roaches took us up hill and down dale (hang on, isn't that a Yorkshire term? But we were in Derbyshire.)  It turns out the Holme Moss effort was just a practice for the testing gradients in Derbyshire - 2,885 feet of climbing narrowly beat the last weekend's 2854 ft.  Ok, it wasn’t all in one go, but toiling repeatedly up hill after hill requires its own level of stamina and determination.

A personal best for me was being housed in a room once occupied by my ancestor, Bonnie Prince Charlie in the historic Hartington Hall.  You may laugh (many do) but be aware: the force of the Stewarts endures.  

Many women plan to follow up the weekend with bike maintenance and ride leader courses at BikeRight!, and there’s a 2015 LEJOG (Lands End to John O’Groats) ride in the offing.

Go girls! Glow girls!

Ey up Le Tour

 BikeRight! conquers Holme Moss

We missed the climb of Holme Moss at the Skylark Sportive in March (too windy hence too dangerous). So we’d had to content ourselves with watching the unfolding drama in July on TV as Froome, Contador and co powered up the 2-mile ascent & encountered the spectacular Yorkshire-meets-Derbyshire summit, not to mention the eye-watering descent through dalesides to die for. 

Second hand excitement via a TV screen is not really our bag, so we were delighted when fit friends Jude & Simon announced not only had they bought a house in Holmfirth (congratulations) but also they were inviting us to join them and the other fit friends last Saturday on a 25-mile loop including up & down the veritable, the very same, the now notorious Holme Moss. 

You know what - October can be gloriously sunny and warm, and even when the cloud descends you know there's a rainbow and magnificent scenes over the valley and reservoir just waiting for you the other side. 

And that's how it all went. Yes we got a bit wet, but hey, up we rode, the steep bit out of Holme village, the flatter bit just beyond, the steady pull and then a couple of steeper efforts round bends (pushed aside by inevitable boy racers in souped up cars but fortunately only two of them).  The road markings reminded us that Froome had been here before, and Contador (although "you've got no fans" was not a nice way to send Yorkshire hospitality to our foreign friends), and Hull CRC.  

The motivational 1-mile, half mile and quarter mile road markers did their job. Yup we got to the top, and it was not too hard, despite our last ride being the Great Manchester Cycle at the end of June. 

Ey Up Le Tour!

Tour de France early Grand Depart

TOUR DE YORKSHIRE

It never occurred to me when I organised a Team Glow ride on the route of the Tour de France Grand Depart, that 14 women would be tracing the tracks of a race that only men can enter.

I was bowled over with the prospect of the Tour de France in the North of England, zooming around our beautiful hills, barrelling under crags and flying up the best gradients the UK can offer, teetering on tops before plummeting down descents which rival the Alps in their trickiness rather than length. Not to mention the quaint villages, Yorkshire stone, duck ponds, cricket matches, medieval castles, abbeys an' all. And then there's the moors, plenty of them for a racer to get moody on as he forces his legs to cleave through the hostile wind.

 I wanted some of that so our group of Glowees took to their bikes to ride over 2 days what the racing guys would do in 1 day.  The sun shone and shone and shone for the whole weekend, proving that there is a God and she wants women to ride the Tour de France.

 

The joy of packing.......

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

....or forgetting

 

 

Half the group started at Leeds Town Hall, and met up with the rest of us at Ilkley with a resounding rendition of "On Ilkley Moor Bah' t'at"

 

 

 

 

 

From Ilkley we warmed our legs up spinning through busy Skipton on market day, past the castle and winding up towards Kettlewell.

 

At Kettlewell some extreme members of our crew shot off up the 1 in 4 climb that the Tour de France athletes fear to tackle. I've been DOWN that hill, hugging Great Whernside for a perilous descent.  Now there's an idea: a women's tour that tackles the climbs too tough for the men. Yes guys, on the day, if you want a bit more excitement, just follow the Glows' wheel tracks up and down the 25% incline out of Kettlewell. Chris, Bradley, Mark are you listening? Hola! Alberto Contador?  Allons! Thomas Voeckler.  Apres les Glows!

 

Meandering along Wharfedale didn't last long and we were soon toiling up what  is cutely now called the Cote de Cray but when i did it last year it was Kidstones Pass. The lung-busting climb is made more delightful by the superb views of swathes of Yorkshire at its best - green fields, stone walls, luscious rivers inviting you to splash in the fresh water, followed by a supposedly easy ride to Hawes. 

 

Easy ride my foot - blasting headwind transforming it to torture at the end of the day.

 

Did I mention hills? Did I mention the climbs the Fit Guys aren't doing. On Sunday morning two sturdy Glows continued the theme as they toiled up Fleet Moss against a flood of descending riders on the Etape de Dales sportive hurtling through their own Yorkshire experience.

 

The rest of us set out towards the rude awakening of Buttertubs - sorry, M'sieur, Cote de Buttertubs. It was hard, it was long, it was hot, it was steep, it went on and on, it was beautiful, it was exhilarating, it was the top of the world. It was everything a cyclist would want on a Sunday morning.

 

Coming down is tricky. You've got to have your wits about you, feather those brakes for all they’re worth,  keeping one eye out for silent sportive speedsters whizzing past who've still got 80 miles and another 6 climbs to go. I passed a terrified guy cautiously descending who must have come from down South and had never encountered the glorious gradients of the North.

 

Soon we bowling through the villages of Muker and Gunnerside to Reeth, along the valley flanked by more green fields dotted with stone barns and obligatory gorgeous lambs.

 

The final climb was tough but the pull up to Grinton Moor was merely sweaty and puffy compared to the terror of Buttertubs.  "This is why we cycle!!" I yelled at the top of my voice as the expanse of majestic moor unfolded before us. The moorland ride and rolling descent to Masham should have been a breeze, but rather more than a breeze in our faces forced us to push every inch of the way. God's own country can be harsh.

 

The last 10 miles of every long distance ride is always a come-down - literally and metaphorically. The A61 has nothing to say for itself except it takes you to Harrogate and that was our destination. Pretty as a postcard, cycling past the famous Betty's tearoom (but too filthy to go in), we all congratulated each other on our ride - not to mention the achievements of the extra super-duper efforts. 

 

So there you are. 8,000 feet of climbing, 128 miles. Fastest speed 43 mph. The hardy types climbed 12,728 feet over 143 miles.

 

 

Down and back up again

Well it wuz like this, you see. I was out there on this dead cool track 'n makin' air on da berms like there was no tomorrow. An' all me mates from BikeRight! was dere, and sum of dem was like doin' really cool stuff aswel, an' our big day out was gettin' really sick wiv track cyclin' as well as BMX an' Moutain Biking an' all dat speed 'n flyin' around an' generally gettin' high on how cool we were ridin'.

 

I mean, look at me, man, it couldn't get cooler than that, eh? Me same age as Granma peltin' down dat ramp an' over da boards. Phewww-eeee!! Gimme five!! Gimme fifty-five! I am hammerin' an' yammerin' an' whammerin' dat BMX til I gonna fly!

Den guess what - I did fly, up in da air an' crash down an' smash me own pelvis where the line is on top of the P in the pic.  Yup, I got given some luvverly gas'n'air to take me to hospital, and den it was crutches for Christmas.

 

 

I'm better now, but no more BMX-ing.  Back to sensible road biking, commuting and touring.

Tootle pip!!