Falls in the summer

On Sunday 3^rd July 9:30am I met the TRAC group, led by Anton at Kilnsley Crag car park, neither knowing more than one person or what was to befall me, fall being the operative word.

The day was fine and bright as we set off towards Litton, gates were opened and closed, people were acknowledged and things were unfolding nicely. I was feeling more at ease with the pace and not too intimidated by the terrain and started to settle down into some sort of rhythm helped by the good conditions and beautiful scenery.

A ridge too far:

A false dawn slowly dawned on me as things started to go wrong, prompted by Kelvin’s puncture. “Go ahead, catch Kevin up and tell him the problem” said Anton, with doubt in his voice and face of my ability to do the latter, never mind the former. Luckily the next gate was manned by Mark or Tommy, (not sure which it was as both had matching CRFs),who I knew was not only a hell of a sight faster than me, but also enjoyed being a hell of a sight faster. I gave him the message to relay to Kevin and told him I would close the gate and watched as he shot off, Bonus! I followed at my pace until the Whores boulder decent, sorry the Hawes technical decent. Half way down “The big step” claimed what I suspect was its first victim of the day, me. With seven faces at the bottom watching me right both myself and the bike I noticed one of them closer then the others, it was Kevin coming up what I was struggling to go down, messages were confirmed and I carried on letting gravity take over.

Castle keep – upright

In due time Kelvin and Anton appeared and set off towards Pendragon castle crossing and my next fall. Beautiful open moorside, a nice track with riders in front of me and I failed to focus on a river and a gap in a 1 metre high river bank 3 metres after the rut. I realised I was heading for the drop not the gap, dropped too many gears and grabbed too much brake but managed to stop with the front wheel inches short of the drop, unfortunately I was laying flat on the ground with a DRZ on top of me. There were again, the faces on the other side of the river watching me right the bike and myself again. No chances were taken this time as I sat on the bike and paddled across the river thinking about how I nearly re-enacted a sight similar to one of the old bi-planes taking off from the first aircraft carriers.

Washing away my sins

A few miles of road work later we entered a forest where I actually saw someone else fall so I thought steady does it on the gravel, keeping that thought in mind when I crossed a small gravel covered bridge, I negotiated the bridge, thought well done, then immediately washed the front end out on the following grass, landing as usual on my side with bike on top. What was even worse was then to be stuffed up the R-send by Mark Rainford on his CRF450, creating an intricate motorbike puzzle the likes of which would have defied Houdini but not the joint efforts of Tim, Mark and myself.

How low can you go?

After lunch in Kirkby Stevens we set off for another river crossing, I preferred the look of a very pretty and dry bridge! More nadgy green lanes then we came across Stockber, and a chance to try out a new Olympic discipline called “Limbo down a lane on a 37” high 400cc motorbike under 30” high tree branches” deep joy! What fun when a gap in the branches appeared and a tree root dumped me off at the end of the lane. There they were the faces, who must have being thanking me for all the rests they were getting.

Crosby, Still + boggit (Garrett)

So by now on my last stretch knackered, eyes blurring I made the fatal mistake of telling Tim, my minder, to “Go on, I’ll be OK, you catch the others up.” Off Tim went like a kid let out of school early, allowing me to go at my own pace without the guilt of holding back a far better rider. Everybody was so far ahead now all I could see was “The faces” again in the distance on the roadside. Picking a straight line for said group not knowing I was heading straight for the bog everybody else had managed to avoid. Bog radar came in far too late to save the inevitable stop, spin and sink. As usual not being content with just being in a bog there was also a big step out. Stuck, spinning and struggling help was at hand in the form of either Mark or Tommy(sorry Guys) who earlier had relayed Kelvin’s puncture misfortune, armed with a strap and some brute force he passed the strap through the front wheel and we inched the Suzuki out of the bog.

An Oeuf is an Oeuf

When I reached the road I found out Kelvin had had some phone calls from work, I had to be back home for 6:30pm and enough was enough for me so we decided to take the road back to Kilnsley.

In the best traditions of “News of the world” reporters, “We made our excuses and left” for Kilnsley, the vans and safety.

All in all a great day out, I’ll be back, thanks to everybody for your company, guidance and help.

Nick Nicholson DRZ Suzuki

The rest of the group went on to take on Dandra Garth, BIG mistake, thank you Kev for the bright idea, next time keep them to yourself. After that it was back to Horton in rib and on to settle for some fuel and good old fish and chips. Hell of a day.Anton