A weekend in The Hope Valley training (15/5/2015)

The plan for this weekend is a simple one, a weekend camping, a bit of xc on Saturday and hill training ride home on Sunday with the usual couple of pints along the way…

Friday 15th, get the Old Girl loaded with all my kit for the weekend and get the train out to Hope and meet a friend in Sheffield for a few drinks at night.

Adventure machine!

Tents up, off into Sheffield now. See you tomorrow for The Hope Valley Watershed ride.

Saturday. 5am-ish. My head hurts. In fact it feels like Thor is in there bashing Mjollnir about. No worries, I’ll sleep in off and be fine in a couple of hours, simple. But then the dawn chorus kicks off, bury head deeper inside sleeping bag, sorted. Just dozing off again then the sheep are at it! I must be breakfast time for them but I can’t help but think about them being dinner time for me! People are starting to wake up as well so there’s no chance for any more sleep now.

After lying in my tent for 2 hours feeling as rough as badgers bum, I’ve talked myself out of doing the ride that I’d planned for today going on the theory if I knacker myself out today on the short-ish ride today I’ll be in even a worse state tomorrow on the bigger ride home. Decision made. Ride home today if I’m up to it but first the “wonderful” Hardhurst Farm full breakfast.

Struggling to get my tent away due to the wind and struggling to find the motivation and energy to get going but meh…lets sit down for a bit.

Eventually after much faffing we’re away for about 10.30 and time for another decision. Left or right? Left to Tideswell, Monsal trail and the A6 or right through Castleton up Cave dale onto the Pennine bridle way,, high peak trail then the A6. Xizang chuckles at the thought of going right, the state you’re in, you’ve got no chance matey. Shut up wench, we’re going left anyway.

3 miles in and I’m a wreck, legs aching, sweat leaking from every pore and thinking about turning around and getting the train home. Time for a walk. “Lightweight” “shut it”.

Bike packing = pushing your bike and kit over hills… as I’m pushing her up hill a roadie comes past and asks if I’m ok. Yes mate, just a tad unfit. Top of the hill and thinking its down hill all the way into Tideswell but no, I can see 2 more bumps in front of us with another one a bit further on… more walking. Now its down hill and flat into Tideswell.

Time for a rest in Tideswell, can of coke sat outside The Cathedral of the Peaks. While having the drink a group of Lycra cad roadies pull up and soon they’re bobbing off about how far they’ve been today and bragging about other conquests on their skinny bikes. Quite a rowdy bunch and too noisy for me and a little village like this so I’m soon on my way again.

Out of Tideswell for 2 miles to Millers Dale on a slight downhill then suddenly the road drops a way to a very steep incline, Strava tells me I hit 35mph down here but Garmin Connect says 25 plus if I was going 35 I’d be screaming with my eyes shut!

Bottom of the hill and onto the Monsal trail, an old railway line that runs Bakewell to Buxton. At the car park for the Monsal Trail there’s an old station that now serves as an information centre with a little cafe trailer thingy, there’s a few people milling about, families, other cyclists and group of women swigging on bottles of Budweiser which reminds me I’ve been carrying 2 can of BrewDog Punk on my back all morning, so bottoms up!

Hangover cured and we’re away again onto the trail and finally got the wind behind us, this is more like it! The trail is on a slight down hill all the way along to Bakewell so we’re soon going at a fair lick but soon we come to the first of 3 long tunnels and have to dig the lights out

All the way through these tunnels I’m giving out the usual shout of “cyclist behind” because there’s people all over the place and even though you can’t really tell on the photos its very dark.

Soon we’re getting close to Bakewell and thoughts turn to the A6 (yawn). There is bridleways that run along the side of the road through Rowsley and Chatsworth but I’ve got nothing planned and my legs are starting to twinge a bit, but first things first, a couple of pints and people watching in Bakewell at the Red Lion. Bakewell is a lovely place but on a sunny Saturday lunch time its full of tourists so I tuck myself into the corner of the beer garden and keep myself to myself listening to people swap stories about Chatsworth and Bakewell tart (its a pudding!!).

Back on the road again and nothing interesting happens apart from motorbikes flying up and down going to and from Matlock Bath. Does the speed limit apply to these people? They always seem to be in such a rush to get into Matlock Bath and by a coke and bag of chips and look at their bikes.

In Matlock (Matlock Bath is a different place) we stop and seriously think about getting the train back to Derby, this starts a bit of an argument between me and Xizang…Me; I’m knackered. Xizang; we’ve got to get the miles in, we’re training remember?! Me; hmmm but… Xizang; shut the fuck up and ride me! Argument over.

Rolling again though Matlock Bath, past all the chip eating motorbikers and into the village of Cromford. There’s a lot of history here with Arkwrights mill being the first water powered mill in the world (or something like that) but I know its a world heritage site. Anyway I need to get off the road before boredom kills me. Turning off the main road we go up to the Cromford canal which flows from here down to Ambergate and the river Amber. Its disused now but it used to serve the mills, but for me its time for another can of Punk 🙂 Sat on a bench I get talking to an old-ish couple about our adventures, they had seen the bags on Xizang. They were asking about where I’d been and was going I get to telling them about the big ride that’s coming up in August and they told me I should wild camp, it seemed strange hearing about wild camping from a couple in their 70’s but I’m inspired and its something that I’ve always wanted to do anyway.

Its a lovely ride along the canal from here, mallards and coot splashing and dipping on the water and the sound of the wind in the trees, its almost tranquil if it wasn’t for the noise from the A6 right next to it but all too soon we’re in Ambergate and back on the A6 which takes us all the way into Derby, through Belper (no hand signals, they’ll have your watch) Duffield and Allestree.

In town we stop at The Derby Tap, bad manners not to and have a couple of pints of Brooklyn but the ride and previous beers are starting to catch up with me and I’m nodding off in the garden and its starting to fill up with Saturday night drinkers, “Come on girl, time to go home”.

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Sunday 27th July

7am.

I managed to get up on time this week, but I’m not sure what time Crusty Carl said we were going out. I send him a text saying that I’m up and he comes back with “Be ready for 8” piss off “Make it 9”.

We’re doing the ride we planned for last week and its my last training session before me and Xizang set off on our epic ride for The Legion http://www.bmycharity.com/carlspoppypootle https://www.facebook.com/carlspoppypootle?ref_type=bookmark

I need to go the distance carrying a full weeks worth of kit and see how it handles on hills, so we’re off up round Ashbourne and Carsington. So a good 60 miles should be done today, nice day for it as well and I’ll try and stay out of the pubs this week.

8.22am

Text from Crusty Carl. He ain’t coming out, he can’t be arsed (isn’t that a surprise?). Its a good job I don’t mind riding on my own and I don’t depend on him or I’d never go out. So just me and the old girl today…again.

After rushing about like a headless chicken just to be let down, I’m slowing down a bit but still want to get out before opening time so they don’t jump out in front of us. 10ish start then.

10.34am

Away after some fine tuning of the Alpkit stuff, quick zip around the houses and onto the old Derby canal towards Swarkestone, still mumbling and grumbling to myself about Crusty Carl (it must be bath day) and onto the long drags towards Willington and Etwall I’ve told you about this before so I won’t bore you with the details apart from its windy, very windy on those long straight roads, its a bit hard going until we get through Etwall and onto twisting country lanes beyond.

Sheltered from the wind by the high hedgerows and trees we’re flying along then we see a big pile of horse poo thats just screaming to be ridden through, its good for the complexion, until it moves! It flaps! It squarks! Its a chicken!! Engage evasive action now!! The chicken had other ideas though and decides to run in front of my front wheel! Why can’t these things fly? They have wings don’t they? Finally it sees sense and runs off into a hedgerow. Phew, that was a close one.

Trundling through Longford still with thoughts of Carl being a let down, its also the last day of The Bore de France, he’s such a roadie. And thoughts of the close call of the Milk Tanker I nearly face planted the other week on the single track lane out of the village when another one looms out ahead of me!! I’ve got a bit more notice this time to get out of the way but I can’t help but think “Infamy! Infamy! They’ve all got it in for me!!

12.33pm
The Shire Horse at Wyaston.
The good looking bar maids working again today, and she’s quite chatty asking about how far I’ve been and if I’m doing anything for The Legion because I’ve got thier bike jersey on today again. I really should come here when I’m not a sweaty mess but its busy in the pub today so I leave her to it and take my bottle of Peroni outside.
Outside I’m happily chatting away to my 2 biking buddies about the bar maid, the weather and where we’re going. After about 10 minutes gossip I realise I’m talking to the 2 Lego Star Wars key rings hanging from my Camelbak. Time to move on…

On the edge of Ashbourne, I’m at the low bridge under the A52 with the steep descent and even steep climb out, that I’ve never made it up but this time I’m feeling confident, I can do it, I can do it! I did it!! A big YAY from me and a pat on the back for Xizang “well done done girl, I knew you wouldn’t let me down”

Riding through Ashbourne my mind starts to stray towards lunch, so we dive into the love tunnel at the start of the Tissington Trail.

We stop at the bike hire and cafe shed and tuck into a cheese ploughmans sandwich and a can of coke. Frame this picture!

Its really busy here today, the sun has brought out all the families, so there’s plenty of trailers and ill fitting helmets about. A family come to a halt in front of me discussing going to the stepping stones at Dovedale and how far it is. I had to interrupt and tell them its 10 miles back the way had just come. “We’ll drive then”.

3 miles up the trail to Tissington and its time for a ice cream…smarties and ice cream!! Bonus!! Until I drop it trying to get the smarties out.

Sulking we come of the trail onto Bent Lane and long twisty paved downhill with 3 or 4 cattle grids and a ford at the bottom.

Because neither of us are used to cattle grids with all the added weight we decide to take it easy and pause to get our wits together, looking around, taking in the scenery I fall in love with Derbyshire all over again, I’ve seen this view many times but I can never get bored of it.

Come on girl, lets do it and straight away we’re flying! Rattling and bouncing over the 4 cattle grids then suddenly the road drops, feels like its pretty much vertical! I hope the brakes are up to this plus there’s 2 Range Rovers coming up!! Bugger bugger bugger!! Stop stop stop!! Please? We managed to slow down enough and get off the road to let them pass but it was a scary moment there for a second so a minute or 2 is needed to slow my heart down and get my breath back. Rolling again, it seems steeper this time, teasing the back brake but still going like the clappers, must be doing +30mph and then theres a ford in full flow. Water? Bridge? Water? We bottle out because of the extra weight we’re carrying and go for the bridge, plus theres a gate on the bridge so a chance for a rest but someone decides to hold it open for me…some people have no consideration.

Pass the ford and onto probably the shortest piece of cycle path in Derbyshire for all of about 2 metres, across the Wirksworth road and onto some sweet singletrack, time to play and test out the Alpkit bags offroad. Through the gate, up a bit and its flies stuck to teeth time.

Zipping along grinning away, the Alpkit bags are fantastic! I can’t even feel them on Xizang, the balance is spot on. You’re reading this and thinking of doing a long distance ride you need to get the Alpkit Koala saddlebag, the Kanga harness plus a dry bag to attach to the Kanga, you won’t go wrong. They’re perfect.
There’s a bloke coming towards me on a bike, its a old day glo Klein thats about as old as Xizang. We give each other a nod and a grin that says, “the old ones are the best” and we squeeze past each other which involves me brushing a nettle bush, thats gonna sting a tad. But its all over too soon and we’re back on tarmac.

Up a steep hill towards Bradbourne there’s a roadie in front of me wobbling all over the road, “I’m having you. I don’t want to be looking at your Lycra clad backside” Through Bradbourne and up a very steep hill thats a nice walk. Up to the top and its flat with a few bumpy bits towards Carsington Water, there’s a few black patches on the road that looks like a motorbike or something has been burnt out, then I realise its proper fresh tarmac from filled in potholes. You can tell the difference between Derby County Council and Derby City Council who would of just left a few bits of gravel over it in the hope that traffic will bed it in.
We go along like this for a couple of miles until we hit a another main road into Wirksworth but first there’s the Knockerdown more commonly known as Knickers Down.

1449pm.
The Knockerdown.
Newcastle Brown.
I have no idea why this pub is called The Knockerdown but its great pub with fantastic views over the dales. Its packed out today with Sunday diners. I take up a bench next to the ornamental pond in the garden.
I sit there with my bottle of dog, making notes for the blog when a bloke in his 50s with his trophy wife/daughter on the next bench asks me to move because I’m smoking (I know, filthy habit).”Errrrm…No! The non-smoking room is inside!” Take that do-gooder!
Taking in the panoramic views of the Peak District I spot the play area, and the sign that says “You’ve got to be shorter than this sign to play here” Sulking with thoughts of putting the sign on stilts for a bit of a play I realise I might get noticed…bloody do-gooders again!

Back on the road, the way we came for a couple of hundred yards and the road down to Carsington, after a while the cycle path comes up on the left and a bit more dusty singletrack fun down to the carpark, on the way down there’s 2 old ladies in off road mobility scooters shredding it, it just goes to show that you’re never too old.
Through the carpark and back onto the path that runs around the reservoir, on days like these its a tourist trap for cyclists and walkers, so there’s plenty of cyclist behind calls. Its a great track round here plenty of twisty bits, up and downhill and views over the res…fun for all the family.

Out onto a road which is pretty much downhill to a junction and a bridge with the High Peak Trail running over the top, there’s a gate to a path leading up to the trail, a nice steady pootle to a sign post for the Rising Sun in Middleton.

1614pm
The Rising Sun.
Middleton.
Whenever I’m in this area I always stop off here, its lovely friendly village pub. Pint of Blue Monkey’s BG Sips for me, a nice crisp pale ale.
Sat outside in the shade protecting my natural solar panel after being out in the sun all day I started uploading some photos to Instagram and Facebook that I didn’t have chance to earlier due to lack of signal.
There’s a few scooters zipping up and down the hill at the end of road, scooters of the Vespa/Lambretta type with high pitched engines disturbing the peace and what appears to be go-carts with engines, strangely shaped bits of fibreglass wrapped around a person, spluttering up the hill.
I seem to have my tourist info sign on today because another couple ask me for directions, this time for the High Peak Trail. Up the hill, under the bridge and immediate left up the path.
Pint finished and we’re going the same way.

Onto the trail again and soon its time to stop for the customary life behind bars photo and one of Middleton Top pump house that used to pull the trains up from the High Peak Junction down at the canal, its a bit steep from down there.

 It’s another nice walk down from here (remember my fear of downhill). Time to decide whether to walk all the way down the couple of miles to the canal or turn off down Intake Lane to the centre of Cromford. Intake Lane is rideable but fast, very fast but a lot smoother and safer than riding down the trail. Engage Hyperdrive! After a short down bit of XC its on to tarmac and Mach 10! In what seems like seconds we’re down on the A6 and in Cromford. Scoot right at the lights around Arkwright’s Mill and onto the Cromford canal. It’s busy down here with dog walkers, the worse kind of dog walkers who let the animals run loose, there’s dogs of all sizes running all over the place, nearly taking me off into the canal, lots of shouting and swearing followed along the lines of “Get that animal on a lead!” “Read the country code” “Keep them under control!”
It soon clears up after a couple of miles and no ones around, just me and the old girl until we reach the tunnel through a hill, thats very low, narrow and dark. The walk way is just a bit wider then the handle bars and the arch of the tunnel is only just above head height so we get off and walk through.

Back in daylight, we’re soon batting along at speed when I need to wee, quick glance round to make sure there’s no one about and do what I need to do and avoid the nettles.
A couple of arty farty pics of the canal and Xizang in a sexy pose, which is tricky trying to take photos on a iPhone while wearing gloves so I end up taking about half a dozen blurred and random ones.

A few more minutes and we’re in Ambergate and the boredom of the A6 through Belper, I’m starting to feel a bit tired now (shut up legs, you love it) after about 50 miles so far today, so it’s straight past the Hollybush in Makeney which is blasphemy in the act, over Eaton Bank and down the other side into Little Eaton. Pint at the New Inn? Why not? You’ve earned it

Its getting on for half 6 now, so a small bottle of Peroni. Not much happening here so the beers necked back and away towards town, I think about going to the Abbey but cancel it since I’m getting tired.

1909
The Brewery Tap.
Birra Moretti.
Settled down in the garden with the last pint of day, miles are starting to catch up with me and I’m really starting to feel tired now, I can feel my eyes getting heavy but one of the bar staff comes out for a smoke and begins to chat about the day and ask about the big ride, I just want to go home but I’m too polite to say anything. After about 45 minute to a hour he finishes his break and I’m finally away, down the river through Alvaston Park and home.

Time for another ice cream.

And a well deserved beer.

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