Distance : 22.29 Miles / 35.88 Kms
Elevation : 1802 ft / 549 m
Terrain : Trails = 12.88 Miles / 20.74 Kms ; Tarmac = 9.41 Miles / 15.14 Kms
Bike : MTB (Gravel/CX possible)
Difficulty : Moderate
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/48780130
I always like riding in and around South-East Northumberland and Tyneside, as these are the places I know best, having grown up in this area. I spent many hours riding mountain bikes across the region’s tarmac and trails as a teenager, and although the routes haven’t changed a great deal, the bikes certainly have. During the 80’s, mountain bikes were heavy and rigid machines, but this was all we had and we loved them. We thought nothing of traversing bone-shaking trails, tipped up into the streamlined stance of a road cyclist…ready to be launched forward from our perch if we came unstuck. We were just like human cannonballs, but without helmets and a crowd to cheer our heroic feats (I wouldn’t ride without a helmet now!). Bikes have come a long way since those early days of mountain biking and the experience is much better for it (although I still like a spin on my old Orange C16R for nostalgia’s sake). Nowadays, much of the shock is absorbed by suspension and bigger tubeless wheels, whilst evolving frame angles coupled with shorter stems and wider bars, give a more upright riding position. All help to give the rider more control and, of course, bikes are lighter yet often more robust.
I’m so grateful that these technological advances have followed the same timeline as my own mechanical deterioration, allowing me to continue following the trails of yore, and, most importantly, enjoy the riding.
This ride wasn’t going to be flat, but the trails were going to be good so it would be worth it. We would be riding in a loop from the Tyne Valley into the Derwent Valley and back again. The route travels from one area of woodland to another in succession, appropriately so, as the name Derwent derives from the Brythonic/early Welsh name for oak (derw) and valley (-went).
We parked in the quiet cul-de-sac of Winston Way, which should be fine for a few hours if you are considerate to the needs of residents. The weather was cloudy and warm as we set-off, but within a minute of pedalling a few drops of rain had us questioning our clothing selection. We rode on regardless, and indeed, the rain had merely been a transient threat, as it didn’t return.
As with many of my recent rides, it started with a climb. Just beyond the last house of New Ridley a lane rises on your left towards the small farmstead of Apperley (Don’t confuse this with Apperley Road or you’ll have a good bit of backtracking to do). Halfway up the lane the tarmac disappeared and a gravel track led between holly trees and pines to the top of the climb. It was a good warm up and we were instantly rewarded with a nice flat singletrack trail, opening onto farm track as we headed for the road beyond.
This next tough slice of tarmac rises from New Ridley Road and doesn’t stop until you enter the small village of Hedley on the Hill. Rising 420 feet in just over a mile, it may not be Hardknott Pass, but the ascent was good enough for the National Hill Climb Championships in 2017. Dan Evans covered the ground in a little under 4 minutes averaging 16.5 mph! Luckily, we had mountain bike gear ratios, only a short stretch to ride, and we weren’t against the clock, but it is a fantastic climb to ride in its entirety if you get the chance.
We peeled away from this rigorous road ramp, into Westriding Wood and sped downhill on a dusty dirt track. We pulled up for a logstack photo as the track levelled out at the base of a small steep-sided vale. Ahead, we could see our exit climb weaving a precipitous course up the hillside, before disappearing at what we hoped was the summit. Tall pines stood like arrowheads pointing at the sky, serving to remind us of our direction of travel. The struggle was short, however, and the slender window of sky that we had been aiming for was indeed the bank top.
As I panted in an effort to reduce heat and find my lungs the oxygen they so dearly needed, I managed to utter my admiration for the pretty buildings and views at Hollings farm. It is quite an idyllic setting.
Skirting around the back of the disused Hollings Hill Quarry, a bridleway dropped us into Milkwellburn Wood. Fast flowing singletrack had us thirsty for more, and although I wasn’t so familiar with this wood, I knew Chopwell Woods, our next stop, has so much to offer mountain bikers. We discovered that Milkwellburn Wood has also been developed with recreation in mind, as clearly signposted bridleways run a smooth path in various directions. All too soon we emerged from the fringes of the woodland at it’s South-East corner. Trundling down a gravel lane into Blackhall Mill, we raved about the trails we had covered, and speculated upon the ones we might have missed.
A nice old riveted steel girder footbridge spans the River Derwent, a tributary of the River Tyne, at Blackhall Mill. Thought to have been built in 2001, I imagine it is a nod to the industrial past of this small village, as steel was produced at Derwentcote Steel Furnace, a very short distance downstream. Although it carries a footpath, it was good for a cheeky photo whilst no one was looking.
We ventured into Chopwell Woods from the South. A steep gravel ramp had our chins on our handlebars and our legs scalded by lactate. Once through the gate at the top, we paused within the threshold of the woods.
Chopwell Woods is the largest area of woodland in Tyne & Wear at 900 acres, and has a rich history of coal mining and timber production. It is a mix of coniferous and deciduous trees, but most importantly for us, it now contains a great network of mountain bike trails. Of course, there are also fantastic walking trails too, but we were visiting on two wheels, so our focus was beyond boots on this occasion. We wound our way upward on clear trails between the trunks, rolling across a carpet of pine needles. Joining a tarmac access road, we rumbled along its course, past fellow bikers and walkers in the main car park.
I remembered visiting here with my daughters for a ride a few years ago. The huge electrified wires of the National Grid share a break in the trees with the Chopwell Woods car park, and I had parked up beneath them without a second thought. As I went to bring our carbon and steel bikes down from the roof of the car I felt a distinct buzzing sensation running through my arms…not a very reassuring feeling! I quickly jumped back in the car and moved it to a less hair-raising spot. I didn’t fancy the electrifying experience of an arc from one of our nation’s main powerlines. I’d be happy with a coffee if I’m after a pick-me-up! Just a small warning for any would-be visitors…
It really is worth coming to Chopwell Woods to spend time exploring the myriad of trails that loop and wind through this timberland. They have been built by riders, for riders and you can sense that as you hurtle through the foliage like a speeder bike rider in Star Wars – Return of the Jedi.
On this ride though, it would only be a fleeting visit to Chopwell Woods. We had other places to be and other sights to see. Following a smooth dirt trail across Spen Banks, we descended alongside the Spen Burn to test our rollin’ skill at Rowlands Gill (sorry…it doesn’t get any better either!).
As we re-emerged into daylight onto the green grass of the Gill, I was wondering who “Rowland” was. From what I can gather, the name appears to derive from a local landowner in the 17th century called Rowland Richardson, with Gill referring to a stream running through a steep-sided valley. It is thought that the name Rowland Richardson’s Gill, has been shortened over time to be read as it does today. During the 19th century, both a toll house and a local station for the newly developed Derwent Valley railway, were given the name Rowlands Gill. The settlement has expanded from its original locus by the stream, and now subsumes the long standing village previously known as “Smailes”.
Our next toil on this voyage of discovery would be the tarmacadam of Thornley Bank. This one mile strip of skyward cycling may have stung as it rose between the hedges, but without it we would have missed the sight of four….yes four, red kites circling over nearby woods and houses. I hope it wasn’t someone’s barbeque they were after! It was an easy distraction from our labour, watching these majestic creatures soaring above. It’s a shame that our cameras couldn’t show them in all their splendour. As I crested the bank I noticed finger posts for the Red Kite Trail…our sighting had been no coincidence then!
Leaving the Derwent Valley behind, we headed back towards the Tyne. With our tires kicking up dust we descended dirt tracks from Barlow to Blaydon Burn at speed. The fringes of Blaydon Burn would be our furthest foray East, and as we rode up Long Ridge Road to find our next dirty frolic, we had already decided to stop for sugar at Greenside.
The shop at Greenside was a welcome sight, and as I approached the chiller full of every soft drink you could name, I noticed the array of flavours of Fanta. “My kids would like these as a taste of something different” I thought, as I loaded up…strawberry, pineapple, wild cherry, apricot…4 should do it. I came for liquids…I certainly left with liquids. I felt like the bottle carrier of a Tour de France cycling team. I would be finishing the ride more laden than when I had started. At least I had my Ginger Beer.
We sat by the war memorial and replenished our thirst. It was still cloudy but we were warm enough. I listened as Gavin and Andy drew from their encyclopedic knowledge of old films and bands…many of which I had never seen or heard enough of to be familiar. Maybe I’ll catch up some day.
We climbed out of Greenside and freewheeled down Bradley Fell Road with its fantastic views of the Tyne Valley. It was easy to make out Crawcrook, Wylam and parts of Prudhoe. Plumes of steam from the chimneys of Egger chipboard factory in Hexham were visible, as they usually are for many Tyne Valley residents.
A byway dropped to the left from the road as it took a sharp right and continued on to become Kyo Bog Lane (I love this name, which basically means “Cow Bog Lane” in old English). The byway was a rough rocky track disappearing downwards into woodland. A ford at its base gave us a brief water splash…which has rarely been seen on the trails of late with all the dry weather. Not that I’m complaining!
After a mile or two traversing pleasant flat dusty trails within woodland and between fields of horses (and Alpaca!) we entered a grassy meadow for a steep ascent via Lumley’s Lane to High Mickley. Now if you look at an ordnance survey map, then Lumley’s Lane is shown as traversing the fields in a South-Easterly direction before entering Hyons Wood East. Other maps will show it running directly South into Hyons Wood West. Although I am following the Ordnance Survey maps reference, the latter is more likely to be the lane proper, as it appears to lead to Lumley’s Copse within Hyons Wood. This is roughly the site of the old Hedley Park Colliery, which operated during the 1940’s and closed in 1951…so the lane is likely to be an associated access road.
If I’m wrong, then Lumley hasn’t got much of a lane left to be honest. Much of the “lane” is now covered by mud and grass which has been heavily rutted by cows or overgrown with nettles and brambles. A much easier approach was to ride across the grass alongside the “lane”. With steady pedal strokes and one eye on my line, the other on the lookout for surprise cows (of which there weren’t any), I made my way up to the metal field gate.
We rode the final section of rough track to the crest of Bowlers Hill near High Mickley. With our last major climb out of the way it felt good to be rolling downhill. We were two miles from the car, and with a fabulous panorama around us and a wide dusty bridleway descent carrying us to the finish, we were happy.
We paused during our descent to watch a glider release from its tow-plane. Hedley Glider Club sat atop Hedley Fell, just away to the East. The engines of the tow-plane fell silent as it dropped away on its rapid return to the airfield. The glider circled a couple of times, before sailing silently away to look for thermals in the valley.
Our final descent dropped sharply down Modigar’s Lane. It was nice to finish with a flourish of speed. For the record, the name “Modigar” is likely corrupted from “Moory Grass”, which would make sense if it related to a gravelly lane running through lush green fields.
Via fields, woods, gills and burns…this was the typical retro mountain bike ride that I remember as a teenager. I can certainly say that my current bike is lighter than the retro versions of old, but unfortunately the contemporary rider was heavier. Whether this was down to me or the Fanta, I’m not prepared to disclose. For the record, my girls didn’t really like the drinks…so that was time, money and effort wasted. Kids these days!!
