Distance : 22.75 Miles / 36.61 Kms
Elevation : 1682 ft / 513 m
Terrain : Trail = 12.53 Miles / 20.16 Kms ; Tarmac = 10.22 miles / 16.45 Kms
Bike : MTB / CX / Gravel
Difficulty : Easy / Moderate
https://connect.garmin.com/modern/course/73020435
I was back in the village of my youth, Wylam. JC and I had parked in the old station car park for an evening ride up the Tyne Valley on familiar trails. I know this area like the back of my hand, but I never tire of it. I was looking forward to the sandy riverside trails, rooty woodland paths, hardpack field tracks, and even the tarmac bridleways and lanes. The absence of any extended periods of rainfall meant the trails were firm and dry, which really helps your “flow” as you glide along, without the resistance of sticky mud or the lost traction from skidding over wet rocks.
We set off West along the disused Scotswood, Newburn & Wylam Railway. This line had been a branch or loop of the Newcastle to Carlisle line, which followed the route of the former Wylam Waggonway, but closed in 1968 following the infamous Beeching Report. It is now part of the Hadrian Cycleway. Not far from our start point at the site of the former North Wylam station lies Wylam Railway Bridge. To locals it is known as Points Bridge, as it sits just beyond the signal points where the tracks joined the Newcastle to Carlisle line that runs to the South of the river at Wylam.
Points Bridge opened in 1876 at the cost of a new Ford Fiesta or VW Up! at today’s prices. It’s impressive design avoided the need for piers to be sunk into the riverbed, as there were shallow mine workings beneath. Often believed to have been an inspiration for the later Tyne Bridge and Sydney Harbour Bridges, Points Bridge actually has some major differences in its design. The abutments at each end of the latter bridges bear no load from the single span arch and are aesthetic, whereas the abutments of Points Bridge directly bear the lateral load of the arch, as it is anchored into them. This prevents distortion and a potential “road-wave” forming in front of a reversing train, as maneuvering trains would often reverse at the nearby points. Clever thinking by our Victorian civil engineers.
Stupidly, as kids, we used to clamber over the arches of this bridge. It is a wonder that none of us fell and caused ourselves serious injury, but that’s best left to childish recklessness that I hope none copy in the present day…
Beyond this famous span, tarmac bridleway sped us on past the Spetchells to Low Prudhoe Country Park. The Spetchells, or “the chalk hills” as we called them, because that’s exactly what they are, were created as a byproduct of fertilizer production by an adjacent ICI factory, for the war effort during World War 2. They are the only chalk deposits in Northumberland, and are now an important habitat for trees, wild flowers, bees and butterflies, amongst other species of flora and fauna that love the alkaline chalky soil. These steep-sided mounds are good to explore by bike too if you get the time, as well drained trails run over and around them.
Just West of Prudhoe station, our route crossed the tracks and entered woods for a stiff climb through the trees to a Hammerite paint factory, alongside the A695. We were encouraged on the climb by a couple of chaps pushing their bikes up the muddy path, but my achy legs were very glad to reach the gate at the top. At least I knew it was the only climb for a few miles, as we would soon be speeding down the rocky road towards Cherryburn and following the riverside paths for a few miles to Stocksfield.
Cherryburn is a National Trust property, comprising a house and farm, which was the birthplace of the famous Northumberland wood engraver, illustrator and printer, Thomas Bewick (1753-1828). Tucked away down a bank North of Mickley Square, the main house holds a small museum devoted to Bewick’s life and works, and there is a small printing shop in the barn. It is often the way that you tend not to visit places which are on your doorstep and, unfortunately, I can say this for Cherryburn. This quaint location, however, looks well worth a visit.
Back over the railway, and we spun along riverside paths dusted with sand, before turning inland across grassy fields and tracks to Stocksfield. Opposite Stocksfield station, we turned into Guessburn. I’ve no idea why they call it Guessburn, as it’s the Stocksfield Burn that runs alongside this quiet little estate. I tried to find out, but failed. Maybe the clue is in the title? You just gotta guess!
At the end of this Cul De Sac a narrow cut-through brought us on to Ridley Mill Road, from which we followed an old track, climbing through trees and alongside tall boundary walls to Old Ridley, with it’s beautiful stone houses and large lawns. We were gradually gaining height as we crossed a country lane, onto a byway that led us up through the edge of Broomley Woods, before crossing fields to the tiny village of Broomley itself.
Broomley is an attractive, entirely stone-built settlement, sitting near to Dere Street Roman Road, and amongst farmland, on the Tyne Valley hillside. Twas nigh on the highest point we would reach…on the South side of the valley anyway.
Having trundled through the village, we soon turned off to ride the old road to Riding Mill, following the exact route of Dere Street as it goes. You can still see the white painted lines down the centre of the road, but public traffic hasn’t driven along here since 1982, when the construction of the A68 Corbridge Eastern bypass cut straight through this road, charging North and South. The bypass did, however, reroute the A68 from the centres of Corbridge and Riding Mill, for which I’m sure the respective residents are very grateful.
We pedalled the old road up to the point where the new bypass scythes through, then followed the bridleway round to a crossing point at High Shilford, before joining the old A68 for it’s rapid descent into Riding Mill. It was worth remembering the character of this descent, as it’s reverse form presented the climb that awaited us on our departure from the village, and it’s a canny drag.
We sailed down into the village and pulled up at a junction with the busy A695. Riding Mill is named after the location of a medieval corn mill which was built here alongside the Dipton Burn, a tributary of the nearby River Tyne. As tenant farmers were forbidden from using hand mills, corn would need to be brought to the mill for grinding, making mill ownership quite lucrative. This one was granted to Blanchland monastery. The mill has since been converted into a house, which stands directly opposite the Wellington Hotel.
Named after the eponymous Duke who defeated Napoleon Boneparte at the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, the Wellington Hotel stands right in the centre of the village. At just under half way through our route, this popular inn would have been the perfect spot for food and refreshments. Unfortunately, we had decided against the need for lights, on the basis that it was August and the evenings should remain light for some time. It seems we had been a little ambitious, and we reluctantly decided not to stop for risk of riding the latter stages in the dark. I recommend, however, that more sensible and suitably equipped riders visit the “Duke in the Mill” for a well earned refresher!
After a momentary breather we turned around and pedalled back up the hill to sample more of Tyne Valleys fantastic trails on our return leg.
Once we reestablished the higher ground we peeled away from the trails we had so recently ridden in the opposite direction, to follow a lane down past the “Bongo Barn”. I wasn’t sure what to expect on our passing…maybe a herd of African forest antelope or the rhythmical beat of a processioning band of drummers. It turns out that the “Bongo Barn” is a specialist garage and dealer of Mazda Bongo vans, run by enthusiasts and set in a beautiful location! I hadn’t expected that…
Before long we were entering the unofficial mountain bike playground of Broomley Woods. Well used trails dash between the trees and over the Smithy Burn. I was careful to ensure we followed a downward trajectory on these fantastic and often technical trails…I have ridden them before and it is not quite so much fun in the opposite direction. A little longer spent exploring here and you would soon discover the easier routes to the top and the most exhilarating routes to the bottom. Our route followed one of the most popular trails which offered a great taste of what is on offer. Flushed with adrenaline and endorphins, we re-emerged onto tarmac just West of Stocksfield station.
The Tyne Valley offers up some fantastic trails for mountain biking, but perhaps unsurprisingly, they are not always linked to one another. The next section of our route involved three and a half miles of road, and one long ascent for a good part of it, but it would be worth it for the descent alongside Whittle Dene. Climbing on tarmac may not offer the offroad distraction of picking a line between rocks and roots, but it is often less steep, and with a decent comfortable rhythm you can measure your effort to the summit. Although it may feel like those big nobbly tires drag on the tarmac, at least you won’t lose traction, as you sometimes do climbing over wet grass, rocks, roots and mud.
It wasn’t long before we had climbed high up onto the valley side to admire the views West over the rolling fields towards the setting sun. A brief section of gravel track climbed gently around the back of North Acomb Farm with it’s popular farm shop. I’m always drawn to the quality of home grown produce, and although it’s more expensive, it rarely disappoints. It’s a shame it was shut really or I’d have been leaving with a string of sausages round my neck and a steak tucked into my jersey.
After a careful traverse of the A69, the road led North past the entrance to Mowden Hall School. Taking children from reception up to Year 8, this highly regarded school offers top class education at a top class price (over £6k per term by Year 8). Lucky I was happy with Ovingham Middle School then!
A cheeky little kicker of a climb led up to a right hand bend, but not far beyond was the climb summit and the final ascent of the ride. Mountain biking on the banks of the Tyne Valley can be hard work, but great battles are often hard fought, as they say.
The start of our return to the river began with a gentle cruise across fields to Nafferton Farm. The light was starting to fade. A herd of cows barely raised their heads to register our passing, possibly reflecting the end of a hard day standing around in a field. That grass won’t chew itself!
Curiously, the farm lane into Nafferton was carpeted with astroturf, probably to protect cows hooves from damage rather than for bovine ball games. Now I don’t believe the future of mountain biking lies in synthetic grass, but it was nice enough to roll along….although the “natural fertiliser” coating was wasted here and unappreciated.
We left the farm behind, free-wheeling down the access road before swinging off onto a high-sided concrete bridge over the dual-carriageway. A combine harvester was busy at work in an adjacent field. Farming has never been a 9-5 job, but not many are rewarded from their office window with a glowing sunset, casting light and shadow across canvases of green from behind a bold frame of hedgerows.
A hardpack path ran along the field edge and above the wooded banks of Whittle Dene, descending smoothly as it went. It was perfect, allowing us to build some speed and experience that “flow”, with only the occasional turn of the pedals. The path dipped into the treeline, throwing rocks and roots under our wheels, but scrubbing off very little momentum. It emerged back out onto the edge of a field, ripe with peas and offering a smooth run along its border, down to the village of Ovingham below. I pulled up at the mighty field gate…the climb had been more than worth the effort!
As we emerged from the fields, I looked across the road to the eminently affordable school of my tender years. Nothing much had changed and it brought back happy memories, as it always does when I pass. Ovingham is another pretty little Northumberland village with an Anglo-Saxon church, old pack-horse bridge, and plenty of nice stone buildings.
The River Tyne separated Prudhoe from Ovingham until 1883, when a toll bridge was opened, replacing a ferry which previously connected the two settlements. Interestingly, the Tyne Bridge and Sydney Harbour Bridge have more in common with Ovingham Bridge than of Points Bridge at Wylam. Ovingham Bridge has steel tubes marked “Dorman Long Middlesbrough”, the firm that designed and built the Tyne and Sydney Harbour Bridges. Ovingham Bridge only allows for one flow of traffic at a time, so lines of vehicles must take turns to cross. It is quite narrow and unnerves many a driver, often to breaking point…or the breaking point of car bodywork at least, as can be seen by the scrapes on the stone abutments at each end of the bridge.
Once back over the Tyne, via the footbridge this time, JC and I rejoined the riverside path downstream towards Wylam. A nice little detour follows a chalk path behind the Spetchells, giving an opportunity to explore further and gain a little extra trail time. It isn’t technical but it all counts. Beyond the Spetchells we retraced our steps to Points Bridge and picked up a nice riverside singletrack trail on the far side, skirting allotments and the Jubilee field at Wylam. Leaving our final section of trail behind it only remained for us to roll past the War Memorial and back into the Old Station Carpark to finish.
Well we made it back before dark. Okay, so we hadn’t quite visited “The Duke in the Mill”, but for us it was still mission accomplished…with or without a nobleman’s inn, and there is always next time. The Tyne Valley had produced once again…great trails in great conditions…you can’t get bored of that!