The Yorkshire three peaks

Richard had been threatening to organise a walk round the Yorkshire three peaks for some time but boy was he organised when he finally got round to it. He picked thirteen of us up in Oxford and Milton Keynes and drove us up the M6 (via the horrors of Pizza Hut) to Bolton Le Sands where we stayed at his aunt’s cottage and (for the overspill) The Blue Anchor.

Bright and early and each carrying a packed lunch lovingly crafted by the Jones’s we registered at the Penyghent café and ‘kerchinged’ our cards in the machine about 08:15. The registration thing is half safety and half marketing but it does help to build a sense of occasion.

I think it is fairly normal to start with Penyghent but it is something of a shock to the system as the walk in is short and boggy and the climb gets quite steep towards the top. Gravity was also augmented by a strong easterly wind. The rock on this upper section has a lovely graphite colour and a heavily layer texture. Sadly it also featured a lighter grey excrescence by the name of G Prior. The Poet/Accountant had been charging along merrily until arrested by the increasing gradient, a history of fags and booze and the onset of an asthma attack. At one point I thought we might be doing the no peaks and a funeral challenge but once nursed to the top he rallied considerably.

Penyghent is only steep at one side and the walk off the back was billed as long and taxing. It was certainly long but I think it gave everyone chance to get their breath back, get the blood pumping and admire the flora and fauna (including a whole lot of spawn much to Julia’s concern). It also proved to be an excellent place to fall into bogs and streams. Laura and I were both sporting fairly muddy patches by the time we reached the magnificent Ribblehead viaduct where we stopped to indulge in our packed lunches.

One of the good things about this walk is the ease of navigation. We could see the second and tallest peak (Whernside) for most of the walk from Penyghent. One of the bad things is that it seems never to get closer. Indeed it was some time after crawling out of our shelter by the viaduct that we started to see the detail of rock and crag in the great flank of Whernside.

Passing alongside a railway rewarded by the Princess Royal for its dry stone walls and over Blea Moor we began to weave up the mountain’s approaches before emerging onto the great fin of Whernside itself. By now the wind, which had been a considerable obstacle on Penyghent, was starting to attempt seriously to blow us into the next valley.

Nina just about maintained contact with terra firma but lost her hat in the process while Richard and Iended up throwing snowball (boomerang fashion) at ourselves. The sheer effort of making progress into the wind burned the face, taxed the sinew and left Gareth with a gait not unlike Heir Flick of the Gestapo. Eventually however we dragged ourselves to the top and spent a couple of minutes looking smug before pressing on down the long descent to the valley.

Another good thing about the route is the number of bailout points and the valley after Whernside is where a good number of us had planned to stop. Those of a more sensible bent retired to the pub on the B6255 while John, Verity, Richard, Jackie, Julia B, Julia W, Gareth (who was now proving to been a man of steel) and I pressed on across the boggy open ground towards Ingleborough’s apparently sheer side.

It was only when we closed within a few hundred meters of the face that we saw the zigzag path ascending it. This was the steepest and windiest part of the walk and almost qualified as scrambling. At the top John and Ms. Whippy almost graduated from walking to flying as they leaned at 45 degrees into the wind atop the summit cairn.

Jackie and Richard led the troops from the summit and down to the Promised Land and I followed with Gareth who was still dressed in the pink pulsating brain mujahedeen pie hat.

We finally ‘kerchinged’ our cards with some time to spare and returned to the pub for a heroes’ welcome. Actually, the two peak posse just pointed and laughed and exclaimed that ‘you look like wurzel gummage’. Hmmm…

Cycling developments and Holdsworth restoration: stage eleven

It has been a bike heavy week. As well as the normal commuting I’ve been knocking out a few miles on the Bianchi on the light evenings and drawing the innocent into 'bikeworld' over the weekend.

The Punisher and I took Dunc out for a couple of hours of wheel sucking through the Oxfordshire countryside. I managed to rein Matt and his new De Rosa back to a reasonable velocity although we did touch 21mph on the flat a couple of times (with Dunc embraced in the envelope of the peloton). Apart from a little light complaining about the discomforts inflicted by the saddle he was the very essence of a brick and performed really well. I’m hoping to arrange something a little longer next time; although possibly with an improved seating solution.

The Holdsworth project is also back on track after all that annoying puncture nonsense. I found a small stone inside the tyre which probably accounted for holes in the inner tubes and the tyre says up perfectly. I dismantled the sticking pedals in an attempt to free them up and one now works fine while the other requires further attention.

I've made some further progress with the clothing for L'Eroica. I've added the Holdsworth logo to the side of my cap and (to be perfectly honest) I'm very proud of the job I've done.

I’ve found corks for the bottles and whittled them down to size and (hopefully) found someone to sell me some size 44 retro cycling shoes. All in all the bike looks good now and is certainly a massive improvement on the oily heap I bought a few months ago. Here are the before and after shots:












The next things to focus on will be:

• Making sure the wheels run true
  
• Stripping off as much weight as possible


• Replacing the front brake cable


• Replacing the footstraps


• Adding rigidity to the bottle holder

Gary Nelmes