Long Mynd
'Social' Edge Cycleworks Shop Ride
Sun 25th July '10
On the morning of the ride we were blessed with proper English summer weather. At least the previous day’s rain showers had become sunny periods and it was going to be dry. As we fettled our bikes underneath the towering flanks of Long Mynd we looked forward to a great day on the trails.
We left the car park in the centre of Church Stretton and headed for Carding Mill valley. It’s not an easy climb but allowed for a warm up before it got steep. As we started the climb I entertained the idea of staying with Lee this time. Although waiting for an operation to fix his recently dislocated shoulder and “taking it easy” he was still at the front of the group. While I did keep up but it was far from “easy” for me.
Lee warned me that the steep part of the climb was showing its teeth again, after being ‘upgraded’ a few years previously. Despite this I hit it with a bit of overconfidence, and spun out on the rocky step right at the start. A little further on, while berating myself for my complacency, I hit a rock and came to a standstill again. I had words with myself before continuing with a bit more concentration.
While I made it the rest of the way up without stopping the climb felt harder than it had for a long time. Fatherhood had definitely taken the edge off my fitness. I’m still trying to find a good way to re-arranging things so I can ride more without it cutting into my family time. I’ll let you know if that ever works out.
At the top we followed the ridge to the summit at Pole Bank and enjoyed the views across the Welsh hills, under a sky filled with the colourful canopies of numerous paragliders. John missed quite a bit of this as he sat fettling his rear brake, an activity that would have consequences later on.
No matter how sedate paragliding looks it can produce some horrific injuries. As they floated above and watched us blast down the hill on a loose, rock covered track, I wondered if they thought we were the mad ones. They may have had a point if they kept watching as we struggled up the following climb. It was a grassy, perched on the nose of the saddle type of climb, for those that didn’t get off and push.
Hard going it might have been but it soon delivered us back onto the ridge, right at the start of the Minton Batch descent. I was looking forward this descent, not only for the fantastic singletrack but to see the new planking section at the top, which had been put in to span the bog. It didn’t stop Nathan from sinking up to his ankles in mud, when he rode off the side. It was his second off and, true to my word, I caught it on camera that time. The wood only improved the descent and with the rest of the good stuff being left intact we reached the bottom with a big smiles, buzzing as usual.
Minton Batch might have been better but the climb through Priors Holt woods wasn’t. It had something to do with riding along side Lee again. ‘I usually try to see how high I can get my heart rate on this climb’ he said. As the lactic acid built to uncomfortable levels I made a mental note to let him ride off into the distance next time. I soon realised it was time for a photo stop.
We reached the ridge again and made or way around the back of a very busy glider club on our way back to Pole Bank. The summit marked the start of the long down hill run that would take us back to Church Stretton. After the track undulated past the top of Carding Mill Valley we engaged big ring for the fast grassy descent to The Batch. The high speeds produced some big grins, as did hitting the exposed bedrock slightly too fast. Once we’d regrouped and calmed down a bit we completed the descent on the tight singletrack of The Batch which, as always, was a great way to finish.
We were soon back in Church Stretton and after packing our bikes away we headed to the Bucks Head for a pint. Everyone made it but John. As he had parked somewhere else I called his mobile but there was no response. I assumed something had come up and he was driving home. It wasn’t until I pulled into my drive that I finally got a text, “Sorry I didn’t make it to the pub. I couldn’t reply to your call as I couldn’t find my phone. It was in the same pocket as the multi-tool I used to fix my brake…..at the top of the hill”. So instead of a lovely pint he’d had to go all the way back up. Fortunately there was a road most of the way.
