Categories
Riding Tarmac Riding

Isle of Harris – Luskentyre & The Golden Road (Part 2)

Distance : 25.63 Miles / 41.25 Kms

Ascent : 1366 ft / 416 m

Terrain : Tarmac = 100%

Difficulty : Moderate

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/62746393

Luskentyre & The Golden Road (Part 2) GPXDownload
Luskentyre & The Golden Road (Part 2) FITDownload

A few days after the first ride of our holiday on South Harris, I was eager to be back in the saddle to cover the tarmac I had missed. I think that no visit to the Isle would be complete without a visit to the beautiful sands of its most famous beach, at Luskentyre. 

Although the route starts from Luskentyre beach car park, I actually rode from Horgabost campsite, as my family were headed for the adjacent beach.  I was to meet them back at Luskentyre. In fact, it is only approximately four miles to Luskentyre from Horgabost, so it is an easy reach for anyone staying at the campsite.

After rectifying my error of nearly setting off in a pair of trainers instead of my cycling shoes, I pedalled out of the campsite, heading East towards Seilebost (pronounced Shielebost). A fishing boat lay at anchor in the bay with men busy onboard.  Pollock, coalfish and mackerel are often caught in the deeper waters around here, with Flounder, Turbot and Dab caught from the shore.

Again, the skies were blue and the sun shone brightly through wispy clouds as I set off.  It was possibly not quite as warm as during my previous ride, but it certainly was not as windy.

Before long I was taking a left turn onto the dead end road to Luskentyre.  It may be dead end by name, but certainly not by nature.  Either before, or after, your ride you must take the short walk from the car park beyond the dunes and onto the stunning Luskentyre beach. 

In warm sunny weather it would be hard not to believe that you are on a carribean island.  The fine white sand reaches far and wide, and the water is crystal clear.  Across West Loch Tarbert the mountains of North Harris provide a fine backdrop, and Taransay with it’s own Beinn Ra, lies closer still, only two miles across the Sound of Taransay.

The island of Taransay is famous for the BBC “Castaway” television series, a social experiment reality show which aired in 2000, and brought Ben Fogle to fame.  Ben later went on to work as a TV presenter for BBC, ITV, Channel 5, Sky, the Discovery and National Geographic Channels.

Riding up and away from the beach car park the road cuts across the machair and follows the shoreline of the bay. 

As I looked out across the dunes I glimpsed the two white ponies which have featured on photographs all across the world.  They were too far away from the road for me to get a pic, unfortunately, but their pure white manes and tails give them an ethereal look as they wander the sands.  They are called Toby and Isla and belong to the MacKay family who live close to the beach.

A little further along the road I watched a guy in his wetsuit attempting to wade to a sandbank not far from the shore.  He stopped when the water reached his neck…I didn’t wait to see if he continued his voyage by foot.  A paddleboarder sailed slowly along in timeless fashion, as if he had forgotten where he was headed, but had to keep moving or be carried by the current. 

Arriving back at the junction with the A859, which runs from Tarbert to Leverburgh, I turned left and began my three mile ascent towards Tarbert.  Initially singletrack, the road soon opens out onto the wide new surface.  Although this surface was decent, I found efficiency and distraction in riding the smooth white line along the roadside, and soon I was passing the turn to Finsbay, Geocrab and Lacklee.  A cycling couple had pulled up by the junction and spurred me on with cries of “not far now”.  I smiled and tried to make it look like it was all in a days work!  They won’t have seen my grimace as I was propelled on by a growling bin wagon following me over the crest of the hill.  

I sat up and caught my breath on the long flowing descent towards the turn for the Golden Road a mile or two from Tarbert.  I had made a point to remember to photograph a tiny bus stop with it’s decrepit office chair…how could I forget it.  It just seemed to sum up the spirit of Harris…improvisation, utility and enterprise…using all that is available in this remote part of the world.  A slap in the face to the consumerist society in which most of us live, yet still a sign that modern technology had arrived here some time ago.

I would be riding back along the coast through Drinisiader, Plocropol, Grosebay and Stockinish, to name a few of the small communities on my route.

Lorna’s Larder food shack was busy with customers, waiting below the raised counter like patient yet eager canines, all set two metres apart.  Other diners sat on nearby verges enjoying the gastronomic treats.  This is another delight to sample, according to many reviews, and I look forward to it on my next visit.  You can’t beat freshly caught seafood, cooked by the locals with passion.

The road dropped towards Miabhag, but I had forgotten just how lumpy this next section of road is.   It wasn’t long, however, before my leg muscles adapted to the challenge and my mind accepted that I would need to experience a little pain to reap the rewards of this Golden Road…the road of a thousand passing places. 

Riding inland from the pretty harbour at Drinisiader, the road followed Loch Phlocrapoil through Plocropol.  I’m sure they are pronounced the same, but maps show them with different spellings.

At the crest of a climb out of Scadabay a duck family paddled quietly across a lochan whilst noisy gulls splashed about at the far edge.  It was the perfect excuse to stop for a breather and take a picture.

Very soon I was dropping into Grosebay and passing the Harris Tweed Company Grosebay.  No multinational companies here, just good honest local wares.  I should also mention Harris Tweed & Knitwear at Plocropol, which is a long-established family run business still hand-weaving tweed in the traditional way.  I would love to own a stylish item of Harris Tweed clothing, but the current weather didn’t call for such fabrics.  I would have been tempted had it been cold and wet.

I pulled up at a junction.  A right turn would take me straight back to the A859, but my route was headed left, towards Cluer, Stockinish and Lackalee.  A cheeky climb out of the bay tested my tiring legs, but I knew it would be the penultimate climb from the finish, and the final was my favourite anyway. 

I raved about this climb in my previous ride on South Harris, and it is a climb that you would miss if you rode the Golden Road from start to finish.  It is one of the reasons that I split the route into two, and it also meant that I would be able to ride it twice.  Bonus!

It starts just beyond Lackalee and winds its way between small lochs, through the rugged terrain, back up to the A859.  It is a smooth climb, with a few switchbacks and short rolling sections on singletrack road.  It’s a delight with amazing views from the top, although you will already know this as you have passed this junction on your way out, should you have had the inclination to look up of course.

As with my previous ride, I turned left at the top and enjoyed the three mile descent back to the right turn for Luskentyre.  Back at the beach I strapped the bike onto the car and reentered the busy world of family holidays…dispute resolution and disaster management.  Thank god I‘d had a few hours relief to enjoy South Harris in my own slightly masochistic way! Thank you Zoe.

Start / Finish : Luskentyre Beach Car Park, Luskentyre, South Harris, HS3 3HL

Categories
Riding Tarmac Riding

Isle of Harris – Sea, Sand & The Golden Road (Part 1)

Distance : 30.38 Miles / 48.89 Kms

Ascent : 1678 ft / 511 m

Terrain : Tarmac = 100%

Difficulty = Challenging

Isle of Harris – Sea, Sand & The Golden Road GPXDownload
Isle of Harris – Sea, Sand & The Golden Road FITDownload

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/62723719

Isle of Harris – Golden Road Full Loop GPXDownload
Isle of Harris – Golden Road Full Loop FITDownload

The last time we visited the Isle of Harris, a few years ago, we were blessed with a week of sunshine, and temperatures in the high twenties.  We were destined to be disappointed this time, surely?  As it happened, we were more than happy with the weather gods on our return.  Although the temperatures weren’t as balmy, and a few cloudy days reminded us of our location, on the whole we had another dry week with plenty of sunshine.  Perfect for hitting the beaches, but also great for running the trails and riding the roads.

The Isle of Harris and the Isle of Lewis are, in fact, one island, located in the Outer Hebrides.  Lewis lies approximately 50 miles from the West coast of mainland Scotland, or 2 and a half hours by boat across The Minch, a stretch of water separating the two.  Harris can be reached from the West coast of the Isle of Skye with only 100 minutes of seafaring.

Harris occupies the hillier and more rugged South of the island whilst Northerly Lewis is generally flatter, with wide expanses of moorland. The name “Harris” may well originate from the Old Norse “Haerri”, meaning “higher”, a reference to those hills, especially in comparison to its lower lying neighbour.  The Isle of Harris is further divided into North and South Harris by East and West Loch Tarbert.  An isthmus separates the lochs and provides a convenient place to locate the Isle’s capital, Tarbert.

Although North Harris has its merits, I simply love the character of South Harris.  The sweeping beaches of white sand and crystal clear waters of the West coast lie in front of an amazing backdrop of North Harris’ mountain ranges.  Sheep and cattle laze on the machair, low lying arable or grazing land, formed near the coast by the deposition of sand and shell fragments by the wind.  The machair is the focus of most Hebridean crofting agriculture.  

By stark contrast, the East coast is a lot more rugged, with a rocky shoreline creating a multitude of little bays and inlets.  Thousands of lochs and lochans (mini lochs), formed by receding glaciers, perforate the landscape.  This is a land where some of Europe’s oldest rocks are smothered by deep blankets of peat.  At 3,000 million years old this rock, known as Lewisian Gneiss (pronounced “Nice”) is two-thirds as old as the earth itself!  

At the planning stage, I decided to split my cycling route into two for South Harris, so that each ride provided a more manageable distance.  Considering the climbing and the fantastic scenery, you may wish to travel at a slower pace and you probably won’t want to overstretch the distance.  If you fancy riding it all in one go, as I did on my first visit to the island, it is easy to link both routes together.  I have provided a GPX and FIT file for you to download the full loop too should you need it. The individual rides, though, are slightly different, but they both offer rich rewards.  See my blog post entitled “Luskentyre & The Golden Road (Part 2)” for the second route.

I circumnavigated South Harris by bike when I last visited the island in 2018 and I was blown away by what it had to offer.  The roads are smooth, well maintained, and quiet.  Although the West coast is flatter, there are one or two short climbs on this side of the island, which can become quite an effort into a headwind.  Of course, this depends upon the direction you are travelling.  Last time I rode in a clockwise direction around the island.  Although I might have had a tailwind along that West coast, I realised that it was along the East coast that I really wanted the push, so this time I rode the route anti-clockwise, and I wasn’t disappointed.

My route set off from a parking spot just off the recently upgraded A859 (see map at bottom of page) 7 miles South of Tarbert, as you drop down towards Luskentyre beach.  It was a bright sunny morning but I knew a strong South-Westerly wind was going to greet me on my journey.  I fancied the first half of this ride was going to take some effort, but as I rolled down towards the Western shoreline everything was peaceful and easy.  I sped through sections of singletrack road without the hindrance of oncoming traffic and soaked up the views. Rippled glassy waters stretched out towards slivers of golden sand underlying distant rugged hills and mountains.  I had forgotten the sheer beauty of this place.

White houses were thinly scattered across a lush machair full of small flowers dancing on the breeze.  Many are now holiday homes, and what amazing positions they hold…battling the elements for many months, no doubt, but basking in the glorious conditions when they arrive. 

The road snaked along a rocky outcrop towards Horgabost, and I snaked between tarmac happy sheep, and past another popular holiday habitation.   The campsite at Horgabost sits snugly behind the dunes of a stunning sandy bay, sheltering from the worst of the Atlantic elements.  It’s a great option for a low cost stay.

Just beyond Nisabost beach, which is a great spot for surfing, is Talla na Mara (Centre by the Sea).  This stylish arts and entertainment centre hosts a number of small studios for local artists and artisan producers.  There is the fantastic “An Traigh” restaurant, serving excellent food, either indoors or outdoors on their wide decking, both areas have spectacular panoramic views.  A few days after my ride I tried the Lewis burger…it was probably the best burger I have eaten…and I’m not exaggerating!

Beyond Talla Na Marra I realised that I was being less protected by headlands.  The forecast headwinds were no longer forecast but full cast into my face, slowing my progress considerably.  I wasn’t too disheartened though.  I knew that before very long I would be utilising this considerable elemental force to blow me up the East coast on a very special road.

I paused at Harris Golf Club at Scarista.  Established in 1930, this 9-hole links course is possibly one of the most isolated and picturesque locations in the world for golfers.  I encouraged a couple of cheery club wavers to demonstrate their swing for the camera, just to give the photo context.  They were very happy to oblige!

As I bordered the sandy inlet towards Northton I could see the climb that I would be facing to reach Leverburgh beyond.  Broad reed beds bent towards me, trying to show me the path of least resistance, but I pushed on.  At least I would soon be on wider roads and unable to hinder the progress of any traffic looking to pass a weary pedaller. After a few minutes of being drafted at snail’s pace by a range rover on a quiet and wide straight road, I reached the summit of this small bealach, and sat up to wave past my stealthy pursuer, and I trundled on, down into Leverburgh.  To be honest, I’m a lot more grateful to patient drivers than those who adopt the opposite strategy!

Leverburgh is the second largest village on Harris, but it still only has a population of around 200 people.  The village was originally named Obbe, taken from the Norse word for a bay.  It was renamed after the South Harris estate was bought for £36,000 by English businessman, William Lever, 1st Viscount Leverhulme, in 1919.  William Lever had planned major developments for the fishing industry of the region with Leverburgh at it’s centre.  Unfortunately, after contracting pneumonia on a trip to Africa, William Lever died in 1925.  His executors and the board of Lever Brothers Limited had no interest in the Leverburgh project, so they sold off the village and production facilities for £5000, and the estate for £300, to the Campbell Brothers, a local family.  Today, the village harbours the ferry to North Uist.

Still, the wind would not let up as I made my way through the village and out of the other side.  A half-mile straight merely provided an unsheltered drag and a prolonged look at the climb over to Rodel, rather than a chance to build my speed.  Maybe I’m painting too bleak a picture.  After all, I needed the practice, and if the wind hadn’t been so strong, the climb would have been unremarkable.  It just reaffirms that molehills become mountains to the tired cyclist.

I ventured a shop stop at Grannie Annie’s as I rode the road to Rodel.  I paused outside in the hope of liquid refreshment, but none were to be found and I had no place to store the gifts from this quirky little shop, so I trundled on.  Rodel sits in a pretty little glen with an unpronounceable loch for company (Loch Thorsagearraidh).  

The impressive St Clement’s Church stands on the edge of the village.  It was built in the early 1500’s as a burial place for the Macleod Clan, and generations of notable family figures have been entombed here since.  The church contains an unparalleled collection of later medieval and post-reformation sculptures, and the finest of these is the MacLeod tomb.  I wish I had taken a look inside…I will certainly be back.

As I continued on around the next corner it was like turning the fans off.  All went quiet and I could hear birds tweeting.  The wind was now behind me.  I had been looking forward to this moment. 

The “Golden Road” runs North-East from Rodel towards Tarbert and what a joy of a road it is.  I could ride this road every day and not get bored! It is a pure rollercoaster of a road, rising then dipping all the way, sailing around bends as you go, new vistas opening up at every turn.  There is certainly more descent as you travel in this direction too, which helps the legs, as you will certainly feel it after this wonderful workout.  Just keep an eye out for the few cars that can suddenly appear from seemingly out of nowhere!

I wish I could say that the road was named for it’s amazing attributes, and I guess in a backhanded way it was, as it was named due to the cost of its construction.  It was built in the 1930’s to link up the small communities that had developed along this coastline.  During the clearances of the 19th century, landlords displaced the islanders from their crofts on the West coast, in favour of profitable sheep farming on the fertile machair.  The enterprising islanders, subsequently, made their way by foot to the East coast to build new homes, improve the land for crops and livestock, and fish the lochs and rich coastal waters.  The thick peat has long been cut and dried as a source of fuel. 

This region became known as the Bays.  I love the names of the small townships too…“Quidinish”, “Ardslave”, “Geocrab”, “Flodabay”, “Manish”…they are intriguing and mystical, especially when spoken and spelt in a Gaelic tongue.  60% of the island’s population still speak Gaelic.

After 10 miles of glorious ups and downs, twisting and turning along the coast, I reached the junction to Lacklee.  You can follow the Golden Road from here along the coast towards Tarbert for another 10 miles, but I wanted to savour this on another ride, and I really wanted to take in what I believe is the cherry on the cake.

Just beyond the turn for Lacklee is my favourite climb, possibly of all time!  For me it really is that good.  I might be making a fuss here and it may be just nostalgia, but I love the character of this climb.  It isn’t the longest, steepest, or even possibly the prettiest, but it has something that draws me to it.  

The surface is smooth all the way and that helps maintain a good momentum.  It has curves to match an alpine ascent.  It rises, then falls a little to allow you to recover a little pace.  It is open enough to see what lies in wait and prepare yourself.  A few industrial buildings aside, it gives great views from the summit. It is set in amazing rugged scenery.  Oh, and it is quiet.  I think you gather how much I rate it!  We better move on.

From the top of this ascent, I turned left at the junction, for a fast comfortable two mile descent down the A859 back to the car.  This ride may take a little effort, but if you can get to the Isle of Harris, I can’t emphasise enough how much it is worth it!

Start / Finish : West Harris Trust Camping Spot 1, Off the A859 7 miles South of Tarbert, HS3 3HN

Categories
Running Trail Running

Bolam Lake Trail Run

Distance : 3.75 miles / 6 kms (All 3 Loops)

Outer Loop = 1.5 miles / 2.4 kms

Middle Loop = 1.25 miles / 2 kms

Inner Loop = 1 mile / 1.6 kms

Terrain : Trails = 3.74 miles / 6 kms

Difficulty : Easy

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/59400588

Bolam Lake Trail Run GPXDownload
Bolam Lake Trail Run FITDownload

I’m sure most people don’t think of Newcastle’s Central Station, Grey Street or Old Eldon Square as they wander around the idyllic Bolam Lake, but they have something very much in common with this popular mere and its surrounding landscape.  They were all designed by John Dobson, the famous architect.  The lake is a rare example of his landscaping work, which was influenced by Lancelot “Capability” Brown, who was born only 5 miles away at Kirkharle just 100 years earlier.  

John Dobson was commissioned in 1816 by local landowner John Beresford (later Lord Decies) to design a landscape which would provide shelter for Bolam Hall from the fierce North-Westerly winds, whilst also creating employment for the local population, who had been suffering due to a period of agricultural and economic decline.  His resulting concept involved the planting of a rich variety of ornamental trees such as fir and spruce, intertwined with oak, elm, beech and lime, and the laying out of a lake to reflect the sunlight and emphasise the magnificent foliage.  Small islands were drawn into the plans, alongside technical elements such as sluice gates, dams and overflow pipes to help maintain the lake.  I can’t help but think, however,  that John didn’t have his compass about his person when he chose a site for the design, as it certainly seems to be located South-West of Bolam Hall, so protection from those fierce North-Westerlies will be pretty much non-existent.

John Beresford improved the Bolam Estate greatly during his ownership, and the village had a thriving community.  Since that time the lake and its surroundings have seen periods of neglect, however, in 1970 it was sold to Northumberland County Council, and Bolam Lake Country Park was opened in 1972.  

It has since been a popular spot for families and dog walkers as the walk is short and the lakeside footpaths are well suited to buggies and wheelchairs.  There is also a nice open area of grass for picnics and ball games.  Car parking is located at three corners of the park, and a cafe, visitors centre and toilets are found at the Boathouse Wood car park.  I would advise visiting at quieter times if you can, as the path closest to the lake can be popular at weekends, etc.

It was from the Boathouse Wood car park that I decided to start my trail run around the lake.  I decided that this trip would be the first run for my pup Lottie.  At a little over 8 months, she is never still, diving in and out of the bushes and flying around everywhere, so I wasn’t exactly going to be overworking her on a short run with regular stops for photos.  With my other dog, Tilly, running alongside me as she always does, it was a nice little outing for the three of us.

The beauty of Bolam Lake is that you can take in three loops of the lake on differing paths, and each of slightly differing lengths.  Yes, they do overlap on two sides of this rectangular park, but this isn’t a problem as those two stretches are very pleasantly alongside the lake.

I included all three routes in my run, totalling 3.75 miles / 6 kms, but I will briefly describe each separately below.  This means you can choose where to go for yourself, and do multiples of one loop or another if you prefer.

Outer Loop – 1.5 miles / 2.4 kms

The loops around the lake are all pretty much flat, but this outer route has slightly more in the way of ups, touching the boundary wall along the park’s Northern edge.  I set off in an anti-clockwise direction from the car park on a wide and well surfaced path winding through the tall trees, before joining a fence line at the North East corner.  My kids often like to explore amongst the dense twisted branches of fallen timber in this vicinity, whilst the dogs chase in and out like frenzied beasts, challenging each other in mock death matches.  

As I left the fence and joined a wider path, I took an immediate right turn, over a couple of short sharp undulations on a narrow course up to the higher ground of Slate Hill.  With a boundary wall now on my right, I followed a course traversing along the banktop.  The path soon became a challenge.  Off-camber, narrow, rocky and rooted, I picked careful steps to remain on my feet.  The dogs must have wondered what the fuss was about, but I enjoyed the variety the trail offered.  

Before long I was dropping back down a steep slope to the lower levels, to continue my root hopping, across a carpet of pine needles between towering trunks.  Simple timber bridges spanned narrow channels, running off into the woods from nearby pastures.  As the path reached its Western limit it turned South-East, following the road towards Belsay until it met the Middle Loop path, and continued into the West Wood car park.

A colourful information board, suspended between two decoratively carved posts, stands in the car park, and gives plenty of detail about the lake’s flora and fauna.  From the far end of the car park the firm path follows the lake edge.  A bird hide perches on the last vestiges of hard standing earth before it is enveloped into the muddy swamp.   Rhododendron and beech trees do their best to camouflage the hide from aquatic fowl, whilst a deep bank of waving reeds and rushes entice them in.

This Southern shore has a couple of jetties, possibly sharing the original sites of earlier structures that previous estate owners would use for trout fishing.  Nowadays they are primarily used by inquisitive dogs and young children, trying to get a close up of the swans, with cautious parents in hot pursuit, anxious to prevent the inevitable watery mishap.

If you have the time or inclination, have a little nosey around the island towards the South-East corner of the lake.  It’s trees and shrubs create a tunnel of greenery which brings you out on a tiny gravel shore.  Kids love the island, simple though it is.

So to the Eastern shore, with it’s sluice gates and dam, and the remnants of associated machinery.   This short stretch has a neat stone wall as its boundary, separating it from the smooth tarmac lane beyond.  

It is these latter two sections along the South and East shores which are repeated when running any of the Outer, Middle or Inner Loops.

To complete the Outer Loop the path runs away from the North-East corner of the lake, up the bank and back to the car park.  If you are lucky the Ice Cream van may be in residence for a cooling reward.

Middle Loop – 1.25 miles / 2 kms

To follow the Middle Loop, start from the same car park, pass the Visitors Centre on it’s immediate left-hand side and continue along a route above the Inner Loop, which is down through the trees to your left.  This path, again, takes you through the pines, but this time the route is wide and flatter, undulating only slightly on its journey to the West Wood car park.  From the West Wood car park the loop is completed by following the lake shore as mentioned above.

Inner Loop – 1 mile / 1.6 kms

The Inner Loop hugs the lakeshore as it circumnavigates the lake.  It is the flattest route, with wide easy paths.  As I approached the North-West corner of the lake, the trees opened out onto a large grassy area, which is, as previously mentioned, popular for picnics and ball games.  Another jetty runs out into the lake in this corner. 

Passing beyond this open green space, the path joined a raised wooden walkway.  Take care here if it is wet underfoot.  Prior to the formation of the lake and sculpting of the surrounding landscape, this whole area was a boggy marshland.  The evidence of remaining marsh is still clear to see as I travelled a predetermined course across this wetland.  With dry feet, I dropped back onto terra firma at the end of the walkway, took a left turn, and joined those common stretches along the Southern and Eastern shores.  

I had chosen to run these concentric loops in an ever decreasing fashion, but it really makes no difference how you approach them.  Covid restrictions, however, meant that I had to pursue an anticlockwise direction around the lake, forever sneaking up on walkers and alerting them to my rearward approach with a friendly “Morning”.  

In general, my run was very pleasant and relaxed, which must be a ringing endorsement for Lottie.  She may have decided to run a path less travelled, through every square metre of undergrowth, but I never once had to stop to call her.  Somehow she was always within sight and appeared to be relishing the run.  Tilly, on the other hand, should be renamed “Shadow”, as she was always by my side whenever I looked.  She must be patient to follow at my pace though!

Bolam Lake is a great place to run.  Good paths, scenery, wildlife, and amenities, and the distance you run is up to you.  Give it a try!

Start / Finish : Boathouse Wood Car Park, Bolam Lake, Northumberland, NE20 0HG

Categories
Riding Trail Riding

Northumberland Coast & Moors Trail Ride

Distance : 34 Miles / 54.7 Kms

Terrain : Trail = 17.36 Miles / 27.94 Kms ; Tarmac = 16.64 Miles / 26.78 Kms

Bike : MTB

Difficulty : Moderate

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/38429283

Newton By The Sea to Bamburgh Trail Ride GPXDownload
Newton By The Sea to Bamburgh Trail Ride FITDownload

Well this was a ride with all sorts going on and really seemed to typify a mountain bike adventure.  It could possibly have gone more smoothly towards the end, but then, adventures aren’t always predictable.  Sometimes you just have to be philosophical and hope you learn something from your experiences.

I was eager to sample the byways that run up the Northumberland coast between Newton by the Sea and Bamburgh.  They tend not to hug the coast but run the course of old lanes between fields and, although possibly not the most technical at first glance, they offer the chance to travel across the countryside on traffic-free routes.

We would drop into Bamburgh for a quick refreshment stop, ride up the coast, before turning inland to tackle the windswept expanses of Wandylaw Moor and Middle Moor and finally descend again towards the coast.  It was destined to be another ride of two halves.

On a bright morning I met Gavin at High Newton by the Sea car park and quickly readied myself for the off.  The forecast was generally cloudy, but rain showers were expected in the afternoon.  As we pedalled up the road to our first section of byway I explained the route plan.  Although 34 miles is quite a distance by mountain bike, I had been surprised by the amount of tarmac included in this ride.  Although they were  necessary to link up the off road sections, they were almost entirely on quiet lanes, which gave us more chance to chat whilst covering ground.  

We left the B1339 at its junction with the B1340 just inland from Newton by the Sea.  A byway took us past Sarah’s Ice Cream Parlour on the corner. Although there was no sign of Sarah, or anyone for that matter at this time in the morning, I thought we might check it out on the way back.

For the first few miles we rode grassy paths along the edges of fields and followed a farm track across Brunton Burn and up to the pretty farmstead at Brunton.  We gently and cautiously shoo’d on a herd of cows with calves that were blocking our path.  He denies it, but I’m sure there is farming stock in Gavin’s family somewhere…

Turning right at a crossroads, we travelled a lane running along the perimeter of the abandoned Brunton Airfield, peeking over the hedges as we went, to see if we could identify any remaining structures.  As we were about to leave the lane, beyond the rear entrance gate to the airfield, a car pulled up.  An elderly couple and their daughter were parking to walk their dogs, and it transpired that the gentleman knew a lot about the history of the airfield, having researched it himself.  Brunton Airfield had been a training base for fighter-bomber pilots in World War 2, stationing Hawker Hurricanes, latterly Typhoons and also Submarine Spitfires and Hawker Tempests during its period of active service.  Operational Training Units ceased using the airfield as early as 1945.  Later, it was used as a base for parachutists from the mid-1970’s until 2003.  The area is now private farmland. Incidentally, the lane we had just travelled had been the supply road for fuel tankers entering the base.  The tankers were generally kept clear of the main entrance for safety reasons.

Having chatted at leisure with these nice folk, we continued on, riding from tarmac onto a rough byway.  At first glance it appeared impenetrable, but actually turned out to be good riding.  Give it another month or so, though, and you may need a scythe to get through.

We took in a good few miles of field access tracks, sometimes gravelly and wide at other times grassy and narrowed by vegetation.  It was all pretty flat and rideable, and although not difficult, it was pleasant going. Even when we rode the narrow verges of fields of oilseed rape the going was firm enough to be of little effort.

When Bamburgh Castle came into view it was as impressive as ever.  Standing boldly on the skyline with the North Sea and Farne Islands lying behind, this Norman fortress is nearly 1000 years old.  It had, however, been the site of a Celtic Brittonic fort for 500 years prior to its current construction.  It is still owned by the Armstrong family, having been bought and refurbished by William Armstrong, the Victorian industrialist of Cragside and Jesmond Dene fame.  It is open to the public and well worth a visit.

We freewheeled into Bamburgh and pulled up on the wide grass verge in front of the shops and pubs for a refreshment stop.  As well as the attraction of the castle, this picturesque village is lucky enough to be located alongside a magnificent stretch of beach.  Golden sands stretch far and wide, so even with a steady stream of walkers and beachgoers, it never seems to be overcrowded.  

After our brief sustenance stop, we continued on, down The Wynding towards the beach and golf course, where the lane comes to an end.  On the way you are rewarded with a beautiful and iconic view of the castle as it sits above the beach, looking out over the waves, walkers and wagging tails of dogs running freely over the sand.

Our next stretch of bridleway must surely be one of the most attractive in the UK, running along the top of the dunes and alongside Bamburgh golf course (opened in 1904), on its journey to Budle Bay.  The meandering Budle Water snakes its way out of the wide bay between rippled banks of clean sand.  In the distance, Lindisfarne Castle stands proud, across the water on its Holy Island.

Budle Bay is an important bird sanctuary, with huge mud flats that are revealed at low tide, but it was a busy port in the 13th century under King Henry III.  The harbour has since been buried beneath the silt, but remaining buildings hint towards its industrial past.  A corn mill, originally dated 1187, gave the hamlet of Waren Mill its name, and sat at the mouth of the bay.  The current building dates to 1780 and has been redeveloped as attractive apartments with fantastic views over the bay.

We climbed from the sand of the bay, past an abandoned stone cottage…the ripples of its old tiled roof mimicking the nearby sand and sea.  Pretty Heather Cottages and a small caravan park stand just off the sand, and we commented on their fabulous location as we pedalled away up their access road.  

Our next five miles were on tarmac roads as they took us inland, away from the sea.  I had assumed that these miles would be simply a means to an end, but they were, in fact, a nice roll along quiet lanes.  Attractive stone farm buildings in the hamlet of Bradford offered us a quick break for a photo, before we spun on, crossing a nice old bridge over the Waren Burn on our exit. 

We stopped for lunch in Lucker.  Sitting on a low stone wall we talked of the changing face of this small village.  New development has sprung up in recent years around Lucker Hall, and the award winning Apple Inn serves gastro-pub food in stylish decor.  The School House Country Kitchen sits over the road from the Apple Inn, serving sandwiches, salads and stone-baked pizzas.  I wish I had had the time to try both, and no doubt I will at some point, but sweat and mud didn’t seem to sit well with the plush surroundings of either eatery.

Just beyond Lucker we left the tarmac, riding back onto farm tracks as we gradually climbed towards the A1.  Upon reaching the A1, we followed the old road running parallel for a short distance past Warenford Cottage.  We were then able to ride a path alongside the highway before we had to bite the bullet and ride the road for 400 metres to our exit point at Rosebrough.  Not one vehicle passed us, however, and if needed we could have ridden the reasonably wide grass verge.

A canine friend barked at our departure from Rosebrough Farm, and beyond the route took us across fields and up onto Wandylaw Moor.  Sheep and cows wandered the rugged panorama that lay in front of us.  They occasionally looked towards us with general curiosity, but then returned to their business when they realised that we provided neither threat nor interest.

A sleuth of wind turbines dotted the moorland, spun by a brisk Northerly wind.  The forecast hadn’t indicated such vigour from the elements, but a rumble of thunder left us in no doubt that the weather was changing.  Looking towards the South, the white “golf ball” of the radar station at Brizlee Wood, sitting above Alnwick, stood in stark contrast to a deepening sky. Luckily, the wind direction was set to lead these inclement conditions away from us and we stood under blue skies, looking and listening to the heavens affecting the lives of others.

The trails over these moors and fields were a mixed bag, flowing and quick in some areas, but badly rutted by the hooves of cows, making for slow progress in others.  Suspension is a blessing in these circumstances, enabling the rider to continue without the need to dismount.  Thunder continued to rumble on sporadically, covering the sound of any expletive utterances.

Soon the celestial growls were accompanied by the buzzing of chainsaws, both interrupting the gentle hum of the turbine blades and the twitter of moorland birds.  As we headed downhill, we passed logstack and lumberjack, snapping the first and saluting the latter.  Before long we had left the moors behind and rejoined tarmac on a rapid descent back to the A1.  

We echoed our way through an underpass, rumbled along farm tracks, rattled over cattle grids and clinked the chains on gates.  All in a days work for these rustic pedallers.

We were now only four miles from the finish of our ride and had just passed a footbridge over a stream in a pretty setting, when calamity struck.  A very disconcerting crunch erupted from the bike below me and I ground to an abrupt halt.  We later determined that a large branch must have hit my rear mech, sending the chain into the back wheel, and snapping two spokes in the process. My rear wheel was now more buckled than Uri Geller’s cutlery set, and wouldn’t spin without rubbing heavily on the frame.  To top it off the tire had fully deflated.  It was an unfortunate affair but I would be walking from here on!

Gavin rode on ahead, fetching the car to exact a rescue, as I trudged on along the lanes past Doxford Hall.  I smiled as I remembered the massage my wife had bought me during a weekend at the Hall, only for it to have been inadvertently booked for the previous week.  We had laughed, and I hadn’t minded really, as I can never relax in such circumstances.

I made it as far as Christon Bank before my knight in a shining car arrived.  The mechanical had certainly been inconvenient, but it could have been a lot worse.  I could have been 20 miles from the car or in the middle of the moors, getting wet or struck by lightning!

I’m afraid I can’t comment on the mile of bridleway we missed, which runs away to meet our outgoing route, but it appeared to be on good farm tracks.  I will be back to find out I can assure you.

I firmly believe that you have to take the rough with the smooth, and, unfortunately, sometimes adventures involve both.  This one did.  It certainly hasn’t changed my opinion on the route itself, which I thought was great.  It offered a bit of variety and made for a good old mountain bike experience.

Start / Finish : High Newton Car Park, High Newton By The Sea, Alnwick, Northumberland, NE66 3EA

Categories
Riding Trail Riding

Kielder & The Scottish Borders Trail Ride

Distance : 28.29 Miles / 45.54 Kms

Terrain : Trail : 24.87 Miles / 40.02 Kms ; Tarmac : 3.42 Miles / 5.52 Kms

Difficulty : Challenging

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/58851384

Kielder & The Scottish Borders GPXDownload
Kielder & The Scottish Borders FITDownload

Kielder has become synonymous with mountain biking, and the outdoor lifestyle in general, due to the fantastic natural and manmade environment that the area provides.  It’s manmade lake is the largest in Europe, holding enough water to give every person on the planet seven gallons!  Watersports are very popular, with canoeing, paddle-boarding, sailing, and water-skiing, all available for those who don’t mind getting wet.

It may be less well known that the surrounding forest is the largest in England, blanketing the surrounding hills with pines and creating a veritable playground for mountain biking.  The sport has been aided, of course, by the development of an excellent trail centre, offering riding for all levels of fitness and ability.  Well done Kielder Water & Forest Park and Forestry England!  There was ample car parking, clean toilets, refreshments from a trailer in the grounds of Kielder Castle, a Visitors Centre, and even a bike shop (with bike hire available).

Our route would take us from Kielder Castle, out on the Lonesome Pines and Bloody Bush trails, across the Scottish border and back via the disused Waverley and Border Counties Railway lines.  It would be a ride of two halves, with the first half technical and hilly, and the second easy riding and certainly flatter. 

Gavin, Andy and I set off from the castle, rolling down the road, before joining the Lakeside Way through Viaduct Wood, along the side of Kielder Burn.  The route led us past Bakethin car park, but not through it, as we followed the burn ahead and swept round beneath the arches of Kielder Viaduct.  This magnificent skew viaduct (meaning it’s water course flows diagonally through the arches) once carried steam trains on the Border Counties Railway, linking Hexham, Bellingham and Morpeth with the Waverley Line in the Scottish Borders.  It now transports walkers and cyclists…an easier job in its old age.  It was built in 1862!

The Lakeside Way is generally a smooth and undulating path running the entire circumference of the lake.  It is a majestic route, with tall pines poking through a carpet of brightly coloured moss, and sparkles of blue flickering through from the lake behind.  As we sailed along, rising moisture created an eerie fog above the trail.  It was easy to imagine yourself in an ethereal world of magic and mystery.

Our ride took us South, down the West side of the reservoir as far as the inlet near Matthew’s Linn, before we left the Lakeside Way to join the Lonesome Pines trail. This section running up the Lewisburn Valley has some fantastic gravelly singletrack through it’s mature pines.  My legs were still sore after a 10k race three days before, and it was tough going on the ups, but all worth it for the flatter flowing sections and weaving downhill runs.  

Climbing from singletrack onto a forest road, we turned left and followed it for a mile and a half of climbing.  On the whole the gradient was steady, save for a few sections that were steeper and more technical, which helped me focus on pacing and picking the right line.  It was certainly a good warm up.  

When the fireroad fizzled out, a short steep singletrack climb took us up to a loftier forest road at Capon Hassock.   Now from what I understand, a “Capon” is “a castrated cockerel”, whereas a “Hassock” is “a firm clump of grass or matted vegetation in marshy or boggy ground”.  So the second part makes sense, but I didn’t see any young high-pitched male chickens on my travels.

The next mile or so was steady forest road climbing, save for a short but amazing run of singletrack.  We were descending through a mossy world.  It was everywhere, encroaching on our smooth gravelled path, climbing every tussock and trunk, and hanging from skeletal branches.  We snaked along a dark path through this engulfing green realm to the sanctuary of open space beyond.  It was brilliant and over all too quickly, but you really don’t want to miss it.

Before long we were tackling the climbing switchbacks up to the North Shore sections of this trail.  We had been concerned that this platformed section across the moors and heath would be wet and too slippery to ride, but our fears were unfounded.  The boardwalks were dry as a bone, and as we climbed to their highest point, the views were expansive.  

Kielder water showed her true scale, disappearing out of sight between distant valley sides.  Pine forest covered the landscape for many miles in all directions.   We didn’t want to say it at this stage but we had lucked out with the weather.  It was dry and the sun often made it to us through a cloud laden sky.  There was barely a breath of wind which was all the more noticeable standing on such high ground.  

Across the valley, the Deadwater Radar installation had tracked much of our journey from atop Deadwater Fell.  The facility controls the local airspace for NATO jets that are often engaged in low-flying exercises over the park.

We tire-tread the boards across the summit of Purdom Pikes, before we dropped back to rocky singletrack.  Re-entering the forest, we found ourselves back on boardwalk.  It was slightly greasy but chicken wire helped maintain traction.  As you join this second boardwalk, stop and enjoy the acoustics as you shout and hear your voice echo deep into the forest.  We were like kids, shouting all sorts of random phrases.  Of course, no one is likely to be around to hear you.  This is quite a remote place! 

We rode on, beyond the boardwalks, up rocky singletrack, before reaching a wide open vista across a Wild West landscape.  Small firs dotted the heath.  Fitting with the scene, a dusty brown trail snaked down towards the Bloody Bush Toll Pillar.  This was a fantastic stretch of trail, with lots of little jumps and bermed corners.

Bloody Bush pillar stands exactly on the English/Scottish border and marks the traditional site of a 16th Century battle between English raiders, returning from a foray into Liddesdale in Scotland, and their Scottish pursuers.  The battle led to the demise of the band of Northumbrians, who had been resting in a thicket…hence the name Bloody Bush.  

A 19th Century metalled coal road ran past the 15 foot pillar, and a toll house was set up shortly after 1834.  The old tolls are listed on the stonework.

The Border Reivers were raiders from both England and Scotland who crossed the border to steal (often cattle) and take property for ransom.  This “Reiving” occurred between the late 13th Century and the early 17th Century.  The March Laws were brought in to deal with cross-border dispute settlement and were administered by the Wardens of the Marshes.  The word “March” derives from the Old English interpretation of the Old French “Marche” meaning “Boundary”.  The area around Liddesdale was generally considered lawless for a long time.

Leaving the pillar behind us, we climbed a steady grass path towards a transmitted tower at the peak of one of the Larriston Fells.  Although the mast is no longer in use, I couldn’t resist a trip to the top to nosey around.  The views are simply stunning.  To the South-West I could see the Solway Firth, and to the North-West the fells dividing Liddesdale from Eskdale in the Scottish Borders were illuminated by patches of sunlight.

Andy noticed a car moving like a tiny white pixel across a dark screen of woodland in the far distance.  It was noticeable as the only clear sign of civilisation.  “That’s where we’re headed next” Gavin exclaimed.  I could hardly comprehend that we would be descending and travelling so far.

But descend we did, and for a long distance.  This was probably the longest fire road descent I have had the pleasure of enjoying.  Passing log stacks and the huge, technical, and always impressive logging machines as we dropped out of the forest, we eventually made it to the main road in the valley.   

A tarmac ascent to Steele Road brought us to the disused Waverley Line.  What a pleasure it must have been to steam through such amazing scenery.  The line ran from Edinburgh to Carlisle and takes its name from the Waverley Novels by Sir Walter Scott, as the author lived near the line and had an active interest in early railways.

We had the pleasure of riding a length of the route as we made our way North along the line to Riccarton Junction for our lunch stop.  Riccarton Junction was the point where the Waverley Line met the Border Counties Railway.  It was a small but thriving place during the heyday of the line, but with no connection by road, as soon as the line fell silent, then so too did the settlement.  The line closed in 1969, following the Beeching report, and the station and many of the surrounding buildings have since fallen into disrepair.  We sat on a grass covered platform amongst saplings and savoured our much needed lunch in the sunshine.

On leaving the Junction, we joined the remnants of the disused Border Counties Railway.  No rails or ballast worried our tires, but the lack of drainage meant for slow going through a cutting.  After a short and slightly soggy push, we were back in the saddle and happily rolling along the elevated grassy embankment.  

Sheep with their lambs quickly moved aside as they heard our approach…all except for one little lamb, sleeping peacefully in the sun.  As we passed quietly, the poor creature shocked itself into life.  It wasn’t until a few seconds later that I noticed it was running alongside me. Obviously confused after waking from its deep slumber, it had become disorientated and decided to adopt me…only for 30 seconds, before it ran the 50 metres back to it’s ovine mother.  The poor lamb made us chuckle anyway.

We passed the pretty Saughtree Station B&B, with it’s section of track and a short goods train sitting waiting for freight, which is unlikely to arrive at this late stage.  It looks great though and what a nice spot.  The station is very lovingly kept and I bet it is popular. It should be.

After a drop to the main road (B6357) we scaled the steep bank on the opposite side to rejoin the line to Kielder.  The Dawstonburn Viaduct once stood here spanning the road, but it has sadly been demolished following the closure of the railway.

The line sweeps alongside Liddel Water in the direction of Deadwater, dropping onto a firm gravel road as it runs towards Myredykes.   Here we crossed the road and took an immediate right to run alongside the Hartwell Burn.  We passed a couple cycling in the opposite direction.  They were, almost, the first people we had seen since we had set off!

The trail was grassy and damp, but ironically, it improved as we crossed the border back into England.  This didn’t fit with my usual comparison between the highways of both nations!  Beyond Deadwater Station we sailed down a long straight course with a slight breeze pushing us on.

Before long, the disused line spat us out onto the road within Kielder Village.  Dropping through a small housing estate we remembered the short climb past the castle to the car park.  As we approached the castle, however, I noted that the refreshments trailer was open…what a godsend!

Sitting, wet and dirty, I savoured my coffee, whilst dance music blasted out from the vendor’s music system.  Slightly incongruous it might have been, but I didn’t care.  I was about to rest my tired body in a warm car seat.

Gavin and Andy remarked on their new found delight of a vanilla chuppa-chupps lolly dipped in coffee.  You learn something new everyday.  Yes, this may have been a small lesson, but they all count!

You know when you have had a fulfilling ride.  Your body aches but you’re pleased with your efforts, you have a smile thinking about the experiences and good company, and you have learnt something along the way.  And now I can say it…we were blessed by the weather gods!

Start / Finish : Kielder Castle, Kielder, Northumberland, NE48 1EP

Categories
Running Tarmac Running

Newcastle Upon Tyne Tourist Trail Run

Distance : 6.14 Miles / 9.88 Kms

Terrain : Tarmac = 5.94 / 9.56 Kms ; Trail = 0.2 Miles / 0.32 Kms

Difficulty : Moderate

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/58440614

Newcastle Tourist Trail Run GPXDownload
Newcastle Tourist Trail Run FITDownload

By population size, Newcastle Upon Tyne is one of the UK’s top ten cities, with nearly 300,000 residents. This regional capital has a strong history as an important trading port and industrial centre, having been involved in wool and coal exports, locomotive building, ship building, armaments and glass making, amongst other trades.  

In the modern age it has a diverse economy involving science, finance, retail, education and tourism.  The city is probably best known for its lively night-life and large student population, reflecting the friendly and welcoming attitude of the locals.  The people of this region are also known for their obsessive and long-suffering devotion to Newcastle United Football Club, or the “Toon” as it is affectionately known.  You would be hard pushed to travel the streets of the city without seeing a black and white shirt.

Impressive architecture is at every turn, providing a home for the bustling shops, cafes and restaurants, and the fascinating art and cultural venues, whilst framing the city’s attractive green spaces.  This scene is all located within a compact city centre, offering the perfect opportunity for a run of discovery, taking in the sights, sounds and smells of this fantastic urban hub.  

It would, of course, be unfair of me not to include Gateshead in this narrative. After all, this is where my run started and finished, just outside of the Baltic Centre for Contemporary Arts, and alongside the Millenium Eye on the South side of the Tyne.  Newcastle and Gateshead are very often referred to in the same sentence, and the two are intimately joined across the River Tyne by no less than seven bridges within a mile stretch.

Gateshead hosts the Norman Foster designed Sage music centre, Tyneside’s own Sydney opera house, with its fantastic alienesque shape.  This impressive venue is such a strong identity for Gateshead.  Having attended many concerts within the acoustically designed timber-clad halls of the Sage, I describe it “like sitting within an acoustic guitar”, but it is not as simple as that.  The concrete used in its construction was specially designed with large air bubbles to improve acoustics and sound insulation.  The resulting sound quality is amazing and enhances the many genres of music that are showcased within.

Well let’s talk about the run itself, as it is easy to be distracted by the wealth of interesting facts and figures in the city’s fabric.  It was a cloudy but dry Friday morning for a run.  No rain was forecast so I left my shell jacket in the car.

I set off, heading West along the Tyne with my good friend, Adam.  We ran below the bulging glass walls of the Sage and under the iconic Tyne Bridge, being careful not to slip on Kittiwake “excretion”, or indeed be hit by a faecal aerial strike.  

Hazard safely avoided, we turned right, onto the Swing Bridge. Built in 1876 by the industrialist William Armstrong, to allow larger ships to travel up the Tyne to his works, it was the largest swing bridge in the world when it was built.  It still opens occasionally for river traffic, and on the first Wednesday of every month as a maintenance exercise.

It may have been early morning, but the empty wooden tables stretching along the riverside by the container housed bar of the River Brew Company, reminded me of the social impact that Covid 19 has made to us all. 

Crossing the Swing bridge gave us a great view of the Tyne Bridge, revealing an image remembered fondly by Geordies.  Over and beyond, we crossed the road and ascended the alley steps, ducking below an arch in the old city walls, on our way up to Newcastle Castle.  This Norman fortress is the reason Newcastle has its name, and the views from the roof give a quintessential view over the River Tyne.

Crossing the cobbles, we eased off our pace, took a photo and recovered after that sharp climb from the riverside.  Under the East Coast mainline, we ran onto the wooden walkway which took us through the Black Gate, a fortified gatehouse of Newcastle Castle.

Taking a right turn again, we passed below blossoming trees as we dropped onto The Side.  The Side was an important and much used road down to the river in medieval times, prior to the formation of Dean Street and Grey Street.  The latter were created when the Lort Burn was infilled in the 1740’s, because it was deemed  “a vast nauseous hollow…a place of filth and dirt”.

Newcastle Cathedral now stood before us.  Otherwise known as St Nicholas’ Cathedral, it is the holy structure that bestows city status on Newcastle.  Skirting round the spire of the cathedral we ran down Mosley Street, before crossing at the crossroads and making our way up the fantastic Grey Street.  

Often voted one of the most attractive streets in the UK, it was built in the 1830’s by Richard Grainger in a Georgian style with vertical dormers, domes, turrets and spikes. The impressive Theatre Royal sits towards the top of Grey Street.  The local council is gradually pedestrianising Grey Street, which was evident by the migration of walking and cycling lanes into the road and cafes/bars with outside seating on widened pavements.  A very good move I’d say.

Standing as a focal point at the top of the street is Greys Monument. Charles Grey, 2nd Earl Grey himself stands on a plinth atop a 135 foot high doric pillar.  OK, not the guy himself, but a statue of him, to celebrate the 1830’s prime minister and his role in the reform act and the abolition of slavery.  A viewing platform at the top is occasionally open to the public, but you won’t find me up there with my head for heights…or lack of.  It must be a good view though, if you can stand after climbing 164 steps.  When a statue and column will not suffice, then you could have a bergamot flavoured tea named after you.  It is, however, a touch floral for my simple palate.

The city centre was starting to liven up when we passed the Old Eldon Square.  This green space with a war memorial of St George slaying the dragon in the centre was popularly called the “hippy field” when I was growing up.  I can’t imagine why!

Adam and I made our way around the corner, away from the main shopping area, towards China Town.  China Town stands on an area of the old city where part of Blackfriars monastery once stood, close to the city walls.  An impressive Chinese Arch with it’s two guardian lions stands at the entrance to the street.

Running under the arch towards the towering St James Park football stadium, we headed first for The Strawberry Pub.  This little drinking establishment has long been an essential visit for many supporters of Newcastle United.  I think any self respecting Newcastle fan must have at least one pint from the pumps of this place at some point in their lifetime.

Even if you are not a football fan, everyone should visit St James Park to savour the atmosphere on a matchday.  When the team play well (it can happen!) and the 52,000 crowd is in good “fettle”, the noise, fervour and sensations can be overwhelmingly good, especially when they score!

Maybe one day the club might again reach the heights it aspires to, but as of the present day, those feats appear a long way off.  Simply avoiding relegation from the Premier League seems to be the seasonal objective in this era.

Anyhoo, I padded the perimeter of the stadium with my fellow fan Adam, briefly touching on the well trodden subject of football, noting that we were both numb after many years of disappointment.

Crossing Leazes Park we almost tripped on the pigeons being fed by the lake.  Sitting opposite the entrance to the Royal Victoria Infirmary, many patients have circum-navigated this little lake in dressing gown and slippers.  I hope they were able to revisit in happier times.

Our route now squeezed between the student blocks on Richardson Road and the Hospital and University, before alighting at the student favourite, North Terrace pub.

Over the central motorway (A167) we reached the Town Moor.  This wide expanse of greenery has long been used as a grazing spot for cattle, and a place to exercise within and commute through, for humans.  

At the South-East edge lies Exhibition Park, a pretty and well-kept space containing a small lake, overlooked by the Palace of Arts.  The palace is the last surviving building from the 1929 “North East Coast Exhibition of Industry, Science and Art”, and now houses Wylam Brewery, with a venue for eating, drinking, live music and event hire.  You can be assured the beer will be good!  A swan lay in her nest, close to the lakeside path but hidden between the rushes, with her partner on sentry duty close by.

An attractive bandstand stood pride of place, surrounded by trees full of blossom.  Resisting the temptation to grab a coffee from the little artisan coffee van parked nearby, we swept back under the central motorway.  On our way towards the park gates we passed a skatepark, highly decorated with varying standards of graffiti.  It sat empty, save for a couple sitting in deep conversation on a quarter pipe.

I love the architecture of the old Newcastle University buildings and the smooth paved pathways. It is a pleasure to travel through such an establishment, as well kept as it is.  Beyond St Thomas’ Church and the Civic Centre, with its seahorses looking out from the top of the tower, we crossed St Mary’s Place heading for Northumbria University.  

The buildings in and around Northumbria University are a mix of architecture from Victorian, seventies and modern, but all blending together nicely.  The area is very pedestrian friendly and a lot of money appears to have been spent on paving and street furniture.  Add in the trendy bars and coffee outlets and it all feels very cultured and sophisticated.  Not quite how I remember my university days.

A modern bridge took us back over the central motorway towards Shieldfield, now a popular area for student digs.  Leaving the campus area behind we dropped down to the Biscuit Factory.  

The Biscuit Factory is a contemporary art gallery, housing a cafe and a modern restaurant.  It has been a popular place for a long time.  

Behind the biscuit factory is the fantastic Ernest Cafe/Bar.  Brightly coloured brickwork and planters filled with Yuccas and bamboo create a  lively outside space, all overlooked by a huge Darth Vader serving wine (Maybe from the Bar Wars series…sorry).

Following Stepney Road to the left of Ernest, and passing Ernies Deli Takeaway, we dived in left before the railway bridge to take a footpath down to the Ouseburn.  Dropping under the sweeping arches of three huge bridges we descended onto cobbles.  Beyond the rail and road in the sky above us, we took our own little footbridge over the Ouseburn, and ascended past the small Ouseburn Farm, a visitor attraction providing the opportunity to see farm animals within the city.  

The Cluny music venue and bar stood ahead of us.  I have seen many bands from within its walls….some good, some bad.  My favourite would have to have been “Eighties Matchbox B-Line Disaster”…no longer on the scene but I loved their “psycho-billy” style.  Check them out!

The Ouseburn has been an area that I have visited many times over the years.  Often to sample the music and bars, and latterley with my kids at Seven Stories, a museum and visitors centre dedicated to children’s literature.  Now, of course, I was here to enjoy the surroundings via the medium of exercise, as we followed the Riverside Walk towards the mouth of the burn.

The Ouseburn is still a changing face.  Modern apartments are being built and trendy cafes have sprung up along its bank, especially towards the barrage before you reach the River Tyne.  The barrage enables boats to pass in and out of the Ouseburn via two lock gates, which close when a boat enters, enabling the water levels to equalise, before the gates reopen for the vessel to continue on its way. 

The Tyne Bar sits alongside the barrage at the mouth of the Ouseburn.  With plenty of outdoor seating it would often be busy with punters indoor and out…more likely out these days, of course.

We left the Ouseburn and took the Hadrian’s Wall path along the Quayside.  The stretch before us would have seen shipping, warehouses and cargoes aplenty in the not too distant past, but today it is a clean and fashionable place to be.  Stylish apartment blocks and office buildings have replaced the heavy industry.  Now bars and coffee vendors supply punters sat looking out over the water to those seven bridges and the buildings of the far bank, both new and regenerated.  

Of the sectors which have re-energised this city after the collapse of ship building and coal mining, it is the tourism industry which paints the prettiest picture, backed by investment in the region’s culture and heritage. This was aptly demonstrated by folks taking pictures on the Millenium Eye bridge.  The bridge which elegantly took us back to where we started.

Enjoy running Newcastle…there is something to see with every stride.

Start / Finish : Millennium Bridge (South Side), Gateshead, NE8 3BA (Parking at the same location)

Categories
Riding Trail Riding

Cheviot Hills MTB Loop

Distance : 13.67 Miles / 22 Kms

Bike Type : MTB

Difficulty : Challenging

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/57820466

Cheviot Hills MTB Loop GPXDownload
Cheviot Hills MTB Loop FITDownload

The wind had settled down since the previous day and rolling out at 10am, we were set to beat the rain that was expected to arrive by 3pm.  Gavin, Andy and I had found a grassy parking area in the centre of the tiny Northumbrian village of Alwinton.  Meaning settlement next to the River Alwin, the village comprises a pretty collection of houses, a farm and a pub, all sitting amongst the beautiful rolling hills and tranquil waters of Upper Coquetdale.

Although it was certainly fresh, we were bathed with bright sunshine as we set off along the lane, heading upvalley, deeper into the Cheviot Hills.  As soon as we had left the village the road began to rise on a long steady climb, which would not have been too challenging, had it not been for the brutal North-Westerly headwind.  I was already feeling spent and anxious about the miles ahead by the time we reached a gate on our right, leading onto a rising bridleway towards Shillmoor. 

As I paused at the gate and turned to await my amigos, I was rewarded with a great perspective of Alwinton and its situation within the broadening valley.  Green fields and pockets of woodland surrounded the village on all sides and the River Coquet snaked its way across the landscape and out of sight, on its long journey to the sea at Amble.

The bridleway traversed across the steep grassland slopes of our first hill, climbing steadily as it went.  Through one gate, then another, as it climbed onto the broad plateau on a track called Pass Peth.  As I rested at a marker post I noticed that we had already accomplished 500 feet of climbing within a mile and a half…no wonder I had felt a little out of breath! I relayed this to Andy and he too was relieved to have a reason for his fatigue.

I had ridden this route before, and I knew what came next, though last time it had caused me a lot more pain than it would today as I was travelling in the opposite direction.  Reaching the edge of this upland pasture, the path disappeared ahead.  Like kids at the top of a waterslide, we hesitated for a moment, before taking the plunge into a sharp and steep descent over wet grass, back to the valley floor.  Too heavy on the brakes and an uncontrollable slide could make for an ungracious and painful dismount.  We regrouped at the gate below, smiling and intact.

After ¾ mile of path across the foot of a hill, commonly referred to as The Knocks, we arrived at Shillmoor, a hamlet at the confluence of the Usway Burn and the River Coquet.  This pretty spot is popular for walkers to park and head out into the hills.

Climbing round behind the farm the route followed a gravelled road up the Usway Burn to Batailshiel Haugh.  The road crosses the Usway Burn a couple of times on the way, via fantastic metal girder bridges with planked decks.  Just beyond the first bridge we found a used smoke grenade canister…The army conduct exercises in these hills and valleys, and, of course, the Ministry of Defence Otterburn Ranges lie within a mile or two to the South and South-West.  Ps. Remember not to touch any army ordnance…an explosion which injures or kills you is enough of a deterrent I would have thought!

The path continues beyond Batailshiel Haugh, following the burn for another mile or so until it squeezes between water and woodland.  The burn rushes in its channel cut into the rocks, frothing and gurgling into pools, lifting and depositing boughs, branches and leaf litter as it goes.  

Before long we arrived at the ride’s dining location.  Fairhaugh House is an 18th century farmhouse and probably the most remote holiday home in the UK.  This solitary property sleeps 8 and the website shows a high quality finish inside, although the shutters were closed and no one was at home  when we passed.  We rested in a leeward and sunlit corner of the building and investigated an old piece of farm machinery sitting in the shade of an oak tree.  I ate my sole provision…a surprisingly good 27p flapjack from Home Bargains!

After “lunch” we pressed on.  Within a short distance upstream of the house, a wooden bridge passed over the burn in a pretty little setting.   We crossed and faced 150 metres of stiff climbing to bring us up to a fantastic viewpoint, and the top of a nice descent on a track of gravel and grass.

The skies had been looking a little ominous for the last few minutes and, sure enough, as we approached a gate at the base of the hill, the heavens opened with hail and snow driven on by an icy wind.  Still, it’s better than rain, and we had both the equipment and the inclines to keep us warm.

Now doubling back on the opposite bank of the Usway Burn, the stiffest test yet awaited us.  This long climb on a grass path tested me to the limit. Two ramps awaited.  I crept up the first, in control of bike and breathing, but the second put me deep into the red, weaving and wheelying up a crazy gradient for what seemed like an age, before it levelled off gradually.  I think I averaged 4mph up there but I made it without a stop.  I am a man of simple pleasures it seems.

We reconvened at a gate, spending time to recover as the inclement weather abated and we enjoyed some relief from the wind in the shelter of pine trees.   

We were soon onto forest road and rolling along at a pace that we could only have dreamt of a few miles back.  We noted that we had taken two and three-quarter hours to cover 8 miles.  Admittedly, this included many breaks to admire the scenery, recover and chatter, and much of these miles had been climbing into a headwind.

We looked forward to an easier ride from here back to the car.  And, indeed, that turned out to be the case.  We sailed along gently undulating forest track for two miles, tackling only one cheeky climb up to a log stack as the path joined Clennel Street.  With 360 degree views, we could see rain showers sweeping over distant hills and clouds casting great shadows on a landscape layered in shades of greens, browns and reds.

As we began our descent on Clennel Street we looked back to beautiful views of Cheviot, blanketed in snow.  Clennel Street is an ancient trading route, dating back to the iron and bronze age.  Although the name Clennel Street is more recent and relates to a major local family, its early name is magnam viam de Ernespeth, derived from the Old English for Eagles Path.  

We sailed down the wide grass track, gliding over the rocks peeking out from beneath their damp green blanket.  Winding down the hillside we were still mindful to feather the brakes to hold control on slippery corners.  A couple of gates proved only a temporary hiatus on the flight into Alwinton.

A rocky lane guided us past a farm and into the village, alighting by the parked cars.  The Rose and Thistle beckoned for a pint and a sandwich. For the first time since covid 19 lockdown we sat in a beer garden and spoke of our adventure.  We had, on the whole, beaten the weather, but heavy clouds were starting to come in around us as we made our weary way back to the car.

The Cheviots are a mountain bikers playground.  The ascents may be steep and challenging, but the trails are rolling and the descents are fast and flowing.  Coupling the trails with amazing views of awesome scenery and you have a winning ride, 100%.

Start / Finish: Alwinton, Northumberland, NE65 7BQ

Categories
Riding Trail Riding

Simonside, Harwood Forest & Rothbury Trail Ride

Distance : 19.54 Miles / 31.45 Kms

Bike Type : MTB

Grade : Moderate

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/57675944

Simonside, Harwood Forest & Rothbury GPXDownload
Simonside, Harwood Forest & Rothbury FITDownload

The UK certainly has its fair share of variable weather.  It has been warm and dry for the last few weeks, and the trails have been firm and fast-flowing.  The rain, however, has returned and I would imagine it won’t be long before we’re ploughing our bikes through thick mud and negotiating slippery roots again.  The variety, however, keeps your skills honed and your interest levels up.

Rothbury really feels like it is the heart of the Northumberland countryside, positioned on the side of a hill with the River Coquet running past on its way to the sea from deep in the Cheviot Hills.   It was damp after the recent showers, but not raining, when Gavin, Andy and I set off from the Haugh car park.

First task, to scale Whitton Bank Road as it ramps up from the valley floor.  It is not a particularly long climb, but it is a baptism of fire, priming your legs for the ride ahead.  Left at the top, up again, but on an easier incline on Carterside Road, and then soon taking a right onto the gravelly Hillhead Road. 

By the time we were passing Sharp’s Folly the road was levelling out for a brief distance so that we could catch our breath.  The folly was built by the Reverend Dr Thomas Sharp, son of the Archbishop of York, in the 1720’s.  Dr Sharp became Archdeacon of Northumberland, Prebendary of Durham and Rector of Rothbury, and he had the tower built as an observatory and to create employment for the local population.  It is said that you can see the sea from the top, approximately 30 feet up.  His Rectory was Whitton Tower, a 14th century pele tower which stands at the top of Whitton Bank Road.  The building is hidden behind the trees, sitting above the junction you struggled to reach a few moments ago.

Further up the track, behind Whitton Hillhead, the route brought us through a gate, out onto lush green fields.  A row of hawthorn trees, neatly box cut, ran away from us down a field boundary and out of sight. Thropton and Snitter sat below us in the valley, and Simonside overlooked them both from its lofty perch ahead of us.

Sheep watched us warily, standing over their lambs as we skirted their field.  A short path through trees on the far side of the field gave my tires their first taste of mud this year.  It felt good to slice through the dirt again but I also knew it would mean more physical effort awaited.

Crossing a road, we pedalled in amongst the tall pines of Simonside, following a firm path up to meet the forest road. The next mile was a steady forest road climb, up to a fantastic viewpoint, just below Simonside Cairn.   Patches of sunlight lit up distant hillsides as it broke through heavy layers of cloud cover.  A blanket of haze draped itself over the hills and fields in the middle distance, smothering the sharpness of detail, reducing patches of woodland to dark blemishes on the landscape.  Northumberland holds such a beautiful wilderness…exposed, weather beaten and often challenging, but always so appealing.

Turning our back on the view, we rode beyond Simonside Cairn to our left, and into the great expanse of Harwood Forest.  The Simonside skyline seems to be omnipresent in Northumberland.  This iconic ridge with its Western crag and steeply sloping foot can be seen from afar in all directions, giving a handy reference point to a navigator.

Large areas of Harwood Forest have been farmed within recent years, so we had a little more to see than simply pine at close quarters.  Deep into the forest, 5 miles from the nearest road, lies Chartners.  Chartners is a small farmhouse, now housing an independent hostel.  A wind turbine and solar panels supply electricity and a wood burner provides heating…handy considering the location.  We climbed past the remote hostel into a hail storm.

Hail is better than rain, providing we’re not talking golf balls here.  As with most hail showers, it didn’t last long, and soon it left us behind to assault folk with its frozen projectiles elsewhere. We pedalled up to a gate that would signal our departure from the forest and the beginning of a long rocky descent through moorland heather, back into the Coquet valley.

We had planned to have lunch at this juncture, but Gavin suggested a shepherds hut further down the slope that would provide good shelter from the elements whilst we refueled.  It was, indeed, a good plan.  The hut was clean, with seating, and sheltered us from the wind, but most importantly, it was open.

With food taken onboard, we rode on, descending the rocky bridleway.  Boulders the size of watermelons helped focus the mind but a drainage ditch towards the bottom caught me off guard and nearly threw me from the saddle.  Suspension compensated for my lack of ability and awareness yet again!

Descending across a grassy field we joined a road which would take us past the attractive house at Hepple Whitefield.  A couple of sleeping policemen on this road made for more controlled attempts at gaining air…certainly more within my skill set anyway.

At the hamlet of Bickerton, a little further down the lane, a bridleway took us across fields to the fishing and nature reserve at Caistron Lakes.  Earlier in the year the River Coquet had split into two here during floods, and now one half of the river runs through the lake system.  Although this had been expected to occur at some point by the environment agency, temporary measures of closing public paths had been introduced.  Thankfully, all paths had been reopened, so we were able to ride alongside the lakes without the need for waders.

A field of cows with calves presented our next challenge, just beyond Caistron lakes.  Having negotiated such obstacles many times before, we have learned to pass as widely, steadily and quietly as possible.  Trying to emulate a stealthy group of army commandos, each with an eye on any untoward bovine movements, we made it across the field of death.  Had we been chased, I’m not sure how well we would have stayed together….the Pamplona Bull Run springs to mind!

Up the lane beyond Ryehill, we pushed across footpaths to the footbridge at Thropton and remounted in the village for an ascent past the Cross Keys Pub.  For some reason I always find this short climb tough.  Hey-ho!

Just after the pub we joined Physic Lane, climbing up to meet the Carriage Drive on the Cragside Estate.  Initially tarmac, Physic Lane soon becomes a grassy lane, rising between gorse and stone wall up the edge of the fields. It is all very rideable if your lungs and legs will allow.  It is a long old slog, but quite satisfying on reaching the dilapidated gate at the top.  More cattle to pass, but they didn’t mind us, as we passed almost within touching distance.  They simply stared, bemused, and let us go on our way.

Cragside Estate’s Carriage Drive is well known and well used, and for good reason.  It is a clear path with a decent surface and has excellent views over the Coquet Valley and Rothbury.  We spun along, happy in the knowledge that the days climbing was behind us…almost. 

Two short sharp sections of uphill awaited. The first, climbing onto Addyheugh, is steeper, but set in attractive woodland, which allowed me to be distracted by the surrounding scenery. It was such a temporary toil anyway, and the views over Rothbury from the top were worth every aching pedal stroke.  When you visit, take a moment to read the names and dates carved into the sandstone from years gone by.  The second was a rise similar to the first, but shorter and easier.  I’m sure I’m overstating the difficulty of these “bumps”.  The smallest hills, however, are a trial for tired legs.

Once over these “climbs”, it was time to enjoy the long descent into Rothbury.  Wide metalled paths gave way to narrow rooted tracks, dodging between rhododendron, before a boulder strewn drop through trees, alighting onto Hillside Road.

By now, the only thing on our minds was the mouthwatering delicacy of a Bombay sausage roll from Rothbury Butchers.  If you haven’t tried one, you really must.  They never fail to satisfy.


Whilst we trundled along the residential roads of the town we reflected on our luck with the weather….damp under tire but the skies had mostly held their aquatic stores for another time.  

After a quick stop in the pretty town centre to pay homage to a sumptuous savoury snack, we made our way back to the car park.  A lady with her daughters asked whether there was any good cycling around here.  “Plenty”” was our reply…”as long as you don’t mind a few hills”.  Her expression told me she might…

Start / Finish : Haugh Car Park, Rothbury, Northumberland, NE65 7SH

Categories
Running Tarmac Running

Jesmond Dene & Heaton Park Run

Distance : 5.21 Miles / 8.34 Kms

Terrain : Tarmac = 4.11 Miles / 6.61 Kms; Trail = 1.1 Miles / 1.77 Kms

Difficulty : Easy

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/54224508

Jesmond-Dene-Heaton-Park-GPXDownload
Jesmond-Dene-Heaton-Park-FITDownload

Well it can’t be sunny every day. Finally the spell of fabulous sunny weather has broken and we have some rain.  I don’t mind though.  It keeps life interesting to have different conditions to run and ride in.  I try to abide by the “no such thing as the wrong conditions, just the wrong clothing” adage.  And I have to try and use all my kit or Zoe will wonder why I have it!

This was another run taking in urban flora and fauna.  Jesmond Dene and Heaton Park is a popular area of Newcastle, as there is much to do and see for everyone.

Within Jesmond Dene is Millfield House with its cafe and toilets and an adjacent visitors centre with conference rooms. Outside is a pets corner, a picnic area, a number of playgrounds and even a small boating lake at Paddy Freemans Park.  Open-air theatrical performances take place in Jesmond Dene through the Summer months, but remember to book.

The fabulous Armstrong Bridge straddles the dene towards its Southern end and Heaton Park is not much further down the burn, with its pretty Victorian pavilion and terrace, dating to 1880.  The pavilion is home to an Italian restaurant, and is a nice spot to sit and enjoy the park with a drink and a bite to eat.  Two play areas provide entertainment for the younger generation.

Both the dene and park contain various historic ruins, scattered amongst the trees and bushes, all linked by a network of footpaths. There is also plenty of open green space to exercise or just lie in the sun…if you are fortunate enough with the weather.

Of course, we can’t forget the pretty Ouseburn, without which we wouldn’t have much of the above.  The burn flows quietly and unobtrusively in many areas, trickling over the occasional small weir…before rushing and bubbling through rapids and over waterfalls in others.  No gushing torrents of white water were to be seen when I visited.  

It is all quite reminiscent of the National Trust estate at Cragside, and for good reason.  The same 19th century industrialist, Lord Armstrong, had strong links to the dene, and this can be seen in the landscape from both an industrial and botanical perspective.  The similarities will be obvious to those who have visited both locations.

I parked in a car park on the lane leading to Millfield House and the visitors centre and jogged along to the start outside of the buildings.  Being damp with on and off showers, it was quiet.  Only dog walkers to be seen, fulfilling their duties to their four legged friends in all conditions.

I set off, dancing around the puddles in an effort to keep my feet dry, and trying to avoid the drips from the trees above me.  To be honest, as soon as I had run 100 metres from the visitors centre the road surface was puddle free and the going was easy.  The route took me upstream following the burn via the Red Walk, under and over pretty stone footbridges, and around the edge of a small grassy park, overlooked by a large brick shelter.

Just behind the shelter the path crossed a small footbridge back over the burn in front of a small waterfall, close to the ruins of a watermill.  The waterfall is the largest alteration to the burn and is Lord Armstrong’s creation, having had the bed of the burn blasted out below it and built up above it.  Careful crossing the bridge…it has low parapets and the promise of an early bath (at best) for the unwary or unlucky.  It is a great place to admire though.

Onwards along the burnside path, and I couldn’t help but take a small detour to run out and back through a “wee” stone tunnel on my right…just for the hell of it.

On reaching the bridge for Castles Farm Road, I scaled a short flight of steps on the right hand bank, before following the path through another “wee” pedestrian tunnel within the bridge.  Maybe watch your head here if such structures challenge you vertically.

The footpath brought me out on Freeman Road.  Doubling back towards the Freeman Hospital, within 300 metres I crossed the road at a roundabout and ducked into the park, at the entrance on the corner.  A tarmac path took me around the edge of football and rugby pitches on my way to Paddy Freeman’s Park.  The park was originally the farm and mill of Patrick (Paddy) Freeman in 1795 and generations of his family farmed the land.  It was so named in 1860.  Not many people have a hospital named after them either, so that’s a canny tribute to Paddy.


You will find a playground, cafe (open in Summer), and the boating lake mentioned earlier, in Paddy Freeman’s Park. 

From this higher ground it was time to rejoin paths descending into the dene, now heading downstream.  Remember to take the path back into the dene just before you reach the playground of Paddy Freeman’s Park.  Junctions now presented themselves with such regularity that it could be easy to take a wrong turn, but as long as you are heading downstream on tarmac paths and not dropping all the way back to the valley bottom you should be fine.  Just as I was concerned that I was losing too much height, a long flight of steps to my left took me back up to the path that would bring me through gates onto the Armstrong Bridge.

The Armstrong Bridge is a fine iron structure.  No longer carrying vehicular traffic, it holds a market of foods and arts and crafts on Sunday mornings, providing great views over the dene to stall holders and shoppers alike.  I passed over the bridge, admiring the spire of Trinity Church in the background, before dropping down steps to my left.  Heading down Benton Bank, I swept round below the roadbridge and joined a footpath leading towards Heaton Park. 

The path is softer underfoot here, but easily manageable in road running shoes, and this section of trail is short.  Having passed alongside the burn, I took the path heading directly toward the towering Vale House, an 80 metre tall, 28 floor residential tower block.  Up until the building of Hadrian’s Tower in 2020, Vale House had been the tallest structure in Newcastle since its construction in 1968.  The route gave me a fantastic sense of its lofty height as I passed in very close proximity below.  I had wanted to take a photo here, but the surrounding foliage prevented it. 

A little further on, however, was a spot that made up for my disappointment.  A local resident has created the wonderful “St Christopher’s Lookout” on the far bank…a playful garden hideaway perched on a rock ledge above the Ouseburn, and decorated with allsorts of imaginative object d’art.  That must be a treat to visit!

Heading for the Southern limits of the vale, the path begins an ascent towards its exit through gates onto Stratford Grove West in Heaton.  Thankfully, much of the steep hill was avoided as I cut off on a left-hand path around the bank above the burn, watching as it disappeared to flow below the urban landscape on its quest to meet the River Tyne.  

Dropping onto the leafy Ouseburn Road, I struggled to continue running past all the curio which presented itself now on my left. Obviously, the same owners of St Christopher’s Lookout had continued the theme throughout their garden, and it was hard not to want to take it all in!  It made for a wonderful contrast to the modern architecture of the buildings on the opposite side of the road.

Now, up onto Stratford Road and heading North, I joined Heaton Park through a stone archway, just beyond the junction with Springbank Road.  An old picturesque flight of steps began my ascent to the higher realms of the park. 

It was certainly worth the effort.  The short-cropped grass was beautifully framed by daffodils and blossoming trees.  I now know why this is such an inviting space.

Jogging along the winding road through the park whilst avoiding the blades of the council mowers, I paused at the pavilion to have a look at the old canopy and brickwork.  Once I had unsettled the restaurant punters with my camera, I realised I had probably outstayed my welcome, so I trotted off on my travels. 

Beyond Jesmond Vale Lane, I took a path with an upward trajectory to the fringes of Armstrong Park, my destination…Heaton Windmill. Although the top part and sails of the windmill are long gone, this mill from the 1700’s is worth a quick stop. It was probably built to grind corn for flour and meal for animal feed.

I Dropped back to the wide tarmac of the pedestrianised Ouseburn Road, and within 300 metres I was crossing a small decorated iron bridge over the Coast Road (A1058). 

Re-entering Jesmond Dene where I had left it at the end of the Armstrong Bridge, I descended to get a view of this great span from below.  Structures like this aren’t built anymore…it’s a shame.

All that remained was a quick jaunt back through the park to the start/finish point, and a return to the car, damp but happy.

Great manmade structures and beautiful natural spaces, this is the story of this small valley.  For many years it has been a place of inspiration and imagination, work and leisure, activity and tranquility, for many.  It’s Newcastle’s emerald jewel and such a pleasant place to run.

Start/Finish: Millfield House, Red Walk, Jesmond Dene, Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, NE7 7BQ

Categories
Riding Trail Riding

Tyneside to Wearside Trail Ride

Distance : 27.81 Miles / 44.76 Kms

Bike Type : Gravel / CX

Difficulty : Moderate

https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/50721317

Jarrow – South Shields – Whitburn – West Boldon – Boldon Coilliery – Jarrow GPXDownload
Jarrow – South Shields – Whitburn – West Boldon – Boldon Colliery – Jarrow FITDownload

If you have never done it, you need to ride through the Tyne Pedestrian Tunnel.  It feels like a step back in time with its wooden escalators and porcelain tiles, which I guess is to be expected as it was built in the late 1940’s.

Although it was built 40 years earlier, the escalator entrance on the North side has surely been designed as the head of an early computer game monster.  Windows represent both the eyes of the beast and your last ever glimpse of daylight before you are swallowed whole.  A blue sign outside even looks like a pupil and strip lights above the eyes are surely luminous eyebrows.    But it’s the gaping dark mouth that you will be focused on as you approach, with its long jagged tongue dragging you over a precipitous edge of no return and down into its belly. 

Once you are beyond the threshold and on your way below things quickly brighten up.  A fluorescent tractor beam seems to pull you down an endless flight of stairs.  When at the top the experience can feel a little vertiginous, but before long you are near the bottom and in for a treat on two wheels.

Back in the saddle and entering the cyclists tunnel, you really feel and hear the rush of air as you speed down the ramp and across the paved floor.  A seemingly endless caterpillar of light above you guides you on through this glossy chute.   And then, in less than a minute you’re sailing up the gentle ramp towards the opposite end with a smile on your face, having forgotten about the weight of thousands of tonnes of water above you.  A further two minutes and I was emerging from the lift, back into the glorious sunshine and blue skies that we have been experiencing lately.

Many folk, however, will not need to make use of the pedestrian tunnel to begin this ride, so I have started the route from the car park next to the tunnel’s South entrance.  Both living in Northumberland, Gavin and I parked on the North side of the tunnel and rode through to the start point.  We paused to admire a passing dredger on its way up the Tyne, before we set off East, headed for the sandy shores of South Shields.

Within a quarter of a mile we were onto a bridleway which took us around the back of Jarrow Hall, formerly Bede’s World.  This is the site of the world’s only Anglo-Saxon farm and village, as well as the Bede Museum, celebrating the Vunerable Bede, father of history.  It is my humble opinion that, if Bede had had a bike and not a book, he’d have been riding and not writing!  Gavin tells me that the place is a good visit, especially for kids.

Just around the corner we passed a fantastic medieval bridge over the River Don, overlooked by the ruins of St Paul’s Monastery, one of Europe’s most influential centres of learning and culture in the 7th century.

Now onto main road for a short distance, and around the corner the difference in the architecture couldn’t have been more stark, as we returned to the heavy industry for what the area is now known.  I find heavy industry fascinating and certainly no less interesting than the old stuff, so I was very happy to pass the Port of Tyne entrance and glimpse the huge cranes and storage silos behind the gates.

We rumbled down the cobbles of Mill Dam with its traditional pubs, on our way towards the South Shields Customs House.  The Customs House was built in 1864, just before South Shields was declared an independent customs post in 1865.  It is now a theatre and arts centre with a pleasant waterside setting.

Back on the riverside, we made our way past the Shields ferry landing in time to see her arrive from one of her regular sailings.  A DFDS ferry and a P&O Cruise ship provided a great contrast for the tiny size of the Shields ferry. 

Onward we passed waterside apartments and businesses until we reached the mouth of the river at Little Haven Beach.  On making our way to the promenade I was slightly freaked out by 22 crinkly and frankly quite scary metal “weebles” (remember those!) leaning and gesturing into thin air.  I pedalled on with haste.  

The beach is pretty here and in the sunshine it was bliss just to cruise along. Watch out for sand across the path, however, as it takes a bit of control to handler the deeper drifts.

Passing the Gallipoli Memorial, commemorating the campaign of 1915, we headed out onto South Shields pier with its cobbles and old rails from the Titan crane that used to service the ships that would dock within the harbour. The crane may be gone, along with the shipping, but people are here aplenty, to take in the sea air and to fish, for cod, flounder, dab and more.

After a brief loop of the lighthouse we headed for shore and onto our route South past a small shoal of surfers catching some decent swell.  

We stopped to take a quick look at the Victorian “Disappearing Gun” at Trow Point.  It was “disappearing” in the sense that the mounting platform could be raised and lowered in the concrete gun pit.  The gun is not the original, having been replaced on its centenary in 1987, and it was never used in action, which is probably a good job because ultimately it was unsuccessful.  It looks good though.

Next stop down the path on this fantastic coastline was Marsden Rock, a 100 foot sea stack of periclase and limestone. Marsden Grotto, a hotel, bar and restaurant with a long history of smuggling and ghost stories, is located in a large man made cave behind the stack.  130 steps take you down to the grotto, or you can take the lift of course.

From grotto to lighthouse, we span along on dry trails, bewitched by the glisten of sun on sea.  Souter lighthouse is impressive and the archetypal lighthouse in my book.  Bright white with a red band and black light casing, it just looks the part and I’m sure it would have some stories to tell.

Gradually we made our way South along the cliff tops to pretty Whitburn, where we turned inland.  Folks were sat outside cafes enjoying the sunshine with a mouthful of tea and cake…not for us though, we had trails to ride.

We skirted to the North of Sunderland, following the Cut Throat Dene …gotta love that name, although we didn’t see any pirates or deadly bandits.

For the next 5 miles we followed trails alongside fields on the urban fringes, past Sunderland Football Club’s “Academy of Light” and the residential Witherwack (I just had to include that name too).  Horses grazed on open land on the edges of housing estates, and a swan sat in its nest on a small nature reserve.  The trails were good, often gravelly but easy to roll along.

On the skyline, the iconic Penshaw monument stands overlooking the city of Sunderland, with wind turbines waving back from below. Wearside’s own greek-style temple was built in 1844 in honour of the 1st Earl of Durham, John George Lampton.  

Reaching the A19, we turned North and followed the tree-lined river Don on flowing metalled paths through the suburban housing of West Boldon.  Crossing New Road, bridleway took us through an attractive nature reserve, with more nice compact trails, on our way towards Boldon Colliery.

I knew our route was going to be very urban from here to the finish, but a lot of good trail can be found in such areas, and we weren’t disappointed.  Crossing the A19, we made our way across to Calfclose Burn and followed it, via Fellgate Metro station, to where it met the River Don at Monkton.  

A collapsing footbridge required a minor reroute.  A young woman with a pram pointed us in the right direction, but not before pointing out that a hill lay in our path. As it happens, the hill was a mere bump and nothing more…did we really look that old and feeble!? On second thoughts, I don’t think this beard is flattering me!

Pushing on, and trying to forget the woman’s well-meaning insult, we sailed along the paths running down the dene in which the River Don flows.  Suddenly we were back at the toll gates for the Tyne Tunnel on the A19.  

We ducked below underpasses and rounded a pumphouse, both coated wall to wall with grafitti.  From here it was simply a case of climbing up onto the land above the Tyne Tunnel and following the direct path through parkland between the housing estates, back to the car park from whence we started.

Another great ride, showing the varying faces of this land between the Rivers Tyne and Wear.  I need to venture South of the Tyne more often. 

Start/Finish – Tyne Pedestrian Tunnel Hub (South) Car Park, Jarrow, NE32 3DX