Six valiant souls (Nick, Jim, Jeff and his brother in law Jerry, Kev and me) arrived in Wray, near Lancaster, at 10 a.m., to ride the Hornby Road in honour of our absent MTB leader (Matt Hornby). It was COLD! I was worried that I’d be keeping everyone waiting so set off ahead, and due to various inefficiencies back at Wray I’d got the highest point of the climb before my compatriots reached me.
Here we all are at the highest point, enjoying the sun, snow and amazing views.
Yes it was cold, but it was also beautiful – sunshine, clear blue sky and snow, and views as far as the eye could see, across the distant snow-capped Pennines. The Hornby Road is also known as the Old Salt Road, or Salter Fell Road, and it’s an ancient pack horse route cross the Bowland Fells. Normally stony, boggy and muddy, today it was easy, with a covering of snow and firm ice which allowed us to cover the ground quite quickly and easily. The only problem was the occasional sheet ice we encountered: most of us managed to slip and fall at some point but no-one was hurt. Kev complained bitterly when the ice covering a large deep puddle broke under his wheel and he ended up with freezing water invading his apparently waterproof Goretex boots. The ice cut his legs, and he complained of cold toes for the rest of the day.
The descent down to Slaidburn proved more challenging than the climb, and we had to keep our wits about us to avoid icy sections, occasionally getting off and walking (Nick developed a method of “scooting” with one foot out of his pedal, which seemed to work well) Once we’d hit tarmac, we came across two mountain bikers who had attempted to drive their van up to the fell to save themselves some climbing – not a wise idea. They’d hit sheet ice, and their van had slipped, knocking a post over, and their wheels were perilously close to a deep ditch at the side of the road. They were standing in the road, looking at their van ruefully and scratching their heads. “Do you have a plan?” I asked helpfully. When they said they didn’t, I offered to put my men to the task and our Weaver Valley heroes pushed and guided and cajoled and got them back on the road, so that they could reverse safely back down the hill. Job done.
Jeff decides to use his head…
We rode down for lunch in a nice warm pub in Slaidburn: then off we rode again, up to the Cross of Greet and back over the Bowland Fells. This is a quiet tarmac road with stunning view across to the Three snow-capped Yorkshire Peaks.
Catching our breath.
It’s quite a climb up to the col and we all tried to keep up with Jim, who set a cracking pace.
Here we all are at the top.
We then continued along an open undulating road, still careful to avoid any icy patches or frozen puddles, but enjoying the views, and using the ups to get warm after freezing on the downs. We did well to spot our turn home to the left, where a van was parked towing a huge model cave. Yes a model cave. Honestly. We were so surprised we didn’t take a photo, so you’ll have to believe me. And so down the hill, on ice watch, and we were clearly being more careful than the drivers of a gritting lorry, which had slipped off the road into a ditch. We didn’t offer to help with this one!
This one was too big even for Jeff’s head-pushing technique.
We continued to descend cautiously and as we hit the main road home it started snowing heavily, and we were glad to get back to our cars at Wray at about 4ish for a welcome cup of coffee and piece of cake in the café, and so home. We’d had a fabulous day, full of beauty, adventure, exercise and great company – that’s what I love about mountain biking!