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 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!