Distance : 19.5 miles / 31.4 kms
Elevation Gain : 1752 ft / 534 m
Terrain : Trail = 11.14 miles / 17.94 kms ; Tarmac = 8.36 miles / 13.46 kms
Bike : MTB
Difficulty : Moderate
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/35522021
Andy and I arrived at the start of our route a mere 40 minutes after Gavin had arrived, so we made our grovelling apologies and readied ourselves in haste for another ride across the charmed land of North Northumberland. We would be combining man and bike with the rural passageways of field and moor, and by burning calories and using speed as a catalyst, we hoped to produce adrenalin and endorphins (forget the lactic acid byproduct)…the result should be fun. Conclusion: Riding equals pleasure. That’s what we hoped for anyway.
The skies were thick with clouds and their wide flat bottoms sat heavily on an invisible layer of air, threatening to drench the land in their shadow. But somehow it didn’t feel dark and I felt optimistic that the rain would miss us. Bright blue was breaking through in places after all.
We were riding out of Ilderton, a tiny village off the A697 just South of Wooler. A dusty track took us into the shade of broad oak trees and between high stone walls, past the 13th century tower of St Michael’s church. Within a few hundred metres a cheeky steep climb hurt our legs before they had had a chance to warm up and accept the challenge, but maybe it was best to hit this head on so that we’d be ready for later inclines.
For the first few miles we followed obvious paths and tracks, across fields and down lanes…some rocky, some tarmac. Low clouds shrouded the Cheviot hills behind us, but we weren’t riding to such lofty heights, so we’d keep our tires on the ground and our heads out of the clouds.
The Inspiral Carpets in Alpaca form awaited us at Bewick Folly, a very attractive hamlet at the foot of a hillside and overlooking the Cheviots. These freshly shorn members of the camel family stood curiously “peru”sing us, before wandering to within spitting distance. I’m sure they just came over to say hello, but we left before they had the chance to clarify their intentions.
Climbing across a field full of sheep, we made it up onto the higher ground of Bewick Moor. There is much to see up here. Hanging Crag clings precariously to the steep hillside, threatening to skittle the buildings of Old Bewick below. Just beyond, a bronze age cairn, two iron age hillforts and a World War 2 pillbox stand high on the hillside, commanding fine positions, with aerial prospects over the land for many miles in all directions. Ancient cup and ring marks can be found nearby too.
Good trails of dust and rock led us between the fern and heather up to Bleawearie, a popular ruin sat on the moors alongside rocky crags and a small copse of trees. Bleawearie means “Tired of the Wind”…a fantastic name for a windswept location. Built in the 19th century the farmstead was occupied by shepherds up until it’s requisition by the War Office in 1940. The army used Bleawearie for training purposes during World War 2. After the army left the previous residents decided not to return, and it has been given up to the elements since. The whole place has an eerie and mystical atmosphere. With ruins, mossy crags and ancient towering trees, there are so many recesses for both earthly or spiritual beings to hide. You can’t help but feel that you’re not alone up here, especially when the swings that are roped to the boughs of the trees, drift back and forth in the wind.
When you find a place like this you need to explore it, possibly in the hope of finding something you can’t explain, or maybe to look for some morbid curiosity. Andy, Gavin and I all went in our own directions. Like children lost in our own imaginary worlds, we crawled over the site like ants over an iced bun. Andy was last to reappear…I could imagine a vanishing incident up here…but he was still in our dimension (just), so we took a few pics and got back in the saddle. I need to bring the family up here for a picnic…what a spot!
We continued across the moors heading for two transmitter aerials on the skyline. The nearer of the two at Quarry House seemed to be attracting a halo of dark rain clouds. Instead of depositing rain upon us, the skies actually started to clear, and we enjoyed a little blue sky.
It is from this point that I had planned for the route to follow the bridleway up to the second transmitter and just beyond to Chatton Sandyfords. Unfortunately, however, the bridleway stops at Chatton Sandyfords and continues as a footpath across Sandyford Moor. It is a shame as the route is eminently wide and rideable, and would link up nicely with the byway at Shielhope. Our route turns left at the road before Quarry House and runs down a lovely descent alongside Hepburn Woods. I love this road as a climb in the opposite direction too, although it is a quite brutal effort.
Before descending past Hepburn Woods take a look across to your right. Ros Castle is a hill which stands as the highest point on the Chillingham Hills range. So called due to the 3000 year old iron age hill fort which sits upon its summit, the views from here are panoramic. On a clear day you can see 7 castles from up here (see if you can name them), and just below you is the Chillingham Estate with it’s famous cattle herd. Although you won’t likely find much evidence of the hillfort, Ros Castle looks amazing when it is awash with purple heather during the summer months.
Just beyond Hepburn Farm the road dropped to a junction. A right turn took us past the entrance to Chillingham Castle as we headed for the byway at Chillingham Barns. Chillingham Castle is a 13th century Grade 1 star-listed stronghold. It has been besieged and battled many times over the last 800 years, but it has always been held by the same family bloodline. This fantastically refurbished building and grounds are well known for their ghostly sightings and very popular for both day visitors and overnight guests. The tearoom will keep you happily fed and watered, and if you are lucky you will catch a glimpse of the famous Chillingham cattle. It was during a stay with friends at this very castle that I first got together with my wife, Zoe. Ah, happy days!
Behind Chillingham Barns, the byway ran down a pretty grassy lane towards the River Till. It then crossed the river, but by no obvious means that we could see. I sensed the eyes of my mates, looking towards the heavens, as I paced the bank and scoured the riverbed for a good crossing point. Sure enough, we soon managed to cross at a point that was no more than ankle deep, but only to fight our way through vegetation on the far bank. Luckily, a waiting gate was only meters away, but we were glad to reach it, and the grass of the field beyond.
We settled into a nice rhythm, riding from one meadow to the next until we dropped through an old gate and onto a quiet lane. After a short strip of tarmac, we were rolling nicely along farmtracks and grassy paths again, heading for the road at Painty’s Plantation. We were just East of Wooler now. Although we were headed in the direction of this little stone-built town, which sits on the Millfield Plain, our route would turn South-West before we reached its urban fringes.
Before we could turn for home we had a long climb to deal with. It was on road for a short distance initially, before running onto a rough track at Threecock Plantation and becoming grassy towards the summit of Whitsunbank Hill. Prehistoric rock art can be found in the field to you right as you approach the summit, but without a strimmer you would likely see nothing at all.
Again, the views gave us a good enough reason to pause and catch our breaths, but we didn’t hesitate for long, as the anticipation of a lengthy off-road descent was pulling me forward. Farm lanes took us past fields of tall wheat, back to the Wooler Water at Heugh Head. It had all felt like the rolling hills of Tuscany for a moment, but without the sunshine and warmth, or vineyards, or hill top fortified towns….but hey…this is Northumberland with its own climate, style and beauty!
We crossed the A697, and followed a lane which dropped into a shallow ford before climbing out on a rough track, up to a crossroads near Cresswell Bog. If we had been disappointed with the last ford, I knew we might have better luck at the next one, near Coldgate Mill. Like all kids, I love a splash in water, so I took a run back and forth through the ford a few times…simple pleasures for a simple mind.
It was a pleasant 2 mile ride along lanes and gravel tracks back to the finish at Ilderton. OK, so it wasn’t a flat 2 miles, but it was worth it and still adhered to the “Riding = Pleasure/Pain” principle. Oh, had I not mentioned the “Pain” bit earlier!?! It was also worth it for the fact that I’d still be sitting on the verge now if I hadn’t covered the ground, so “you gotta do what you gotta do”…
All in all, another great offering from the great outdoors of Northumberland.
