To Whitby

July 13, 2022

When I wake up this morning I look over and Rachael’s already up. She has her phone out using the magnifying glass app, studying the UK’s confusing coinage trying to make out the denominations so when she pops into a bakery for a treat she doesn’t just have to hold her palm out with a mountain of change for them to sift through and take what they will.

I leave her to that interesting task and head down to the dining room to sit at our assigned table to work on the blog and wait for some coffee to magically appear, as it soon does. The music comes on too, a stream of instrumental jazz classics emanating from the gorgeous vintage Phillips radio that stands next to our table. Not long afterwards Rachael shows up too and breakfast orders are placed: a semi-full English Breakfast, minus the beans and black pudding; brown toast, OJ and coffee; and an excellent homemade granola.

A very nice way to start the day, one that could easily become habit-forming. When we come back to Pickering to stay for a week we’ll come here again but ask for a room on the north side or with AC next time.

This tiny one’s a 25. Why is the tuppence so much larger?

The real music source is inside is more contemporary technology, running a playlist. A charade then, but a very pleasant one that creates an evocative atmosphere.

We have a nice chat with the proprietress while we pack the bikes to leave, then say our goodbyes and we’re off. It looks like a brilliant day to ride - sunny today but not warm at all. We’ve a short ride ahead of us to Whitby crossing back over the North York Moors again and anticipate getting in early enough to leave the bikes at our lodging and take a walk along the coast. We don’t know yet that there won’t be enough legs left to do more than walk downstairs for a cold drink and to sit in a stupor until it’s time for dinner.

Unlike yesterday when we warmed up with a flat cruise through the Vale of Pickering, today we’re heading north straight at the hills and start climbing two blocks from the hotel. We’re only a few blocks into the ride when we pick up a tail - a lone cyclist, Sue, who’s out on a day ride and keeps us company for the first few miles. She and Rachael enjoy a pleasant chat that makes the first few miles of the gradual climb pass easily.

After that we have a few more miles of pretty but undramatic riding, climbing through woods and agricultural plots until we near the high point of the day. We’re only going up to 800’ today, and in spite of what the map looked like when I studied it last night I’m starting to feel disappointed thinking we won’t be seeing the moors today after all when suddenly the world opens up and we’re there. Spectacular again.

A “Where’s Rachael?” shot, an easy challenge to get you started.

Pretty easy, right? How about this one then? Challenging for you, but challenging for us too - 13% down, 13% up; with water flowing across the road at the bottom so you can’t even preserve some momentum to ease into the climb on the other side. Gorgeous though.

You could ride up here every day. How about those view blockers, Greg?

Not up yet, but we’re at an inflection point. Beyond this it’s a much more gradual climb to the summit. I wonder how long stones like this have been standing out here showing the way?

That’s the real summit up there, with Rachael standing by the side like a way marker waiting for me to catch up so we can have lunch.

We stop for lunch at the side of a very quiet single track, a lane so quiet that there’s a gate crossing it that you have to open and close when you pass through. At the turnoff to it we just passed a ways back there’s a sign pointing the other direction for the gateless option, and all the motor vehicles doubtless choose that one. No one goes this way, and we don’t see another sole while we’re sitting there on a stone slab eating lunch.

It’s still pretty early and we’ve only got fifteen miles to the endpoint on the route we’re following. We’ve loaded two routes though, this one five miles longer than the other - I dashed this one off this morning to add a bit to a ride that seemed too short for such a fine day.

We talk things over during lunch and decide to save five miles and flip over to the shorter route after all. We’ll be dropping out of the moors soon and back into the lowlands, so we decide we’d rather just get to Whitby earlier and have more time there. We should arrive at maybe 1:30, with enough time and energy to fit in a nice walk along the coast before our 5:15 dinner reservation. Heh, heh. Dream on, Team Anderson!

The next mile two are more delightful riding, coasting down this track through the moors with sheep standing around watching us go by.

There was a string of four or more of these old stone heaps along a line here. Any idea what they were?

This is a seriously unhappy sheep, standing in the middle or the road bawling. Finally he trotted off through the heather for his mates.

In the moors. I’m sure that these old stones are a study in themselves. Note that this one has a small hole bored through its top end. Probably meant as something more purposeful than just a window for tourists to peek through

We’re dropping to the River Esk, down at the bottom somewhere. After that we’ll just follow the Esk downriver to the sea at Whitby.

Such wonderful cycling country. Not for the first time it occurs to me that we should come back, get an apartment somewhere, and linger awhile.

And then I come to a junction, with this concerning warning at the top of the route we have mapped. It’s a steep drop from here to the river and it would be irritating to have to just turn back and climb out of this hole once we get there. Rachael’s gotten ahead of me and it occurs to me to just wait here and monitor her progress on the Garmin to see what happens but then I think the better of it and continue on after her.

Rachael’s bike is lying by the side of the road when I catch up, on the grass around a bend in the road where it passes under a flowing creek. She calls me from the side to let me know where she is. There’s a footbridge we can take across the creek, and she’s opted for that rather than taking our shoes off and wading through the rushing water. She’s returning from the first of four crossings after carrying her panniers to the other side.

Undoubtedly the wiser and safer choice, but the bridge is no picnic either. There are about ten steep steps up to the bridge level, and it’s too narrow to just carry your bike up. I have to walk up backwards lifting up the front of the bike while she lifts the back end. It’s not easy and goes slowly one step at a time making sure we’re stable before I back up one step and repeat - ten times.

A tough choice, between Scylla and Charybdis. We’ll take the high road.

No idea why she’s smiling, because this is difficult and just a bit scary. Hey - is that her reflection in the face of the Garmin?

So that gets us up. The crossing on top is at least as hard though, and scarier. Much too narrow to cross alongside the bike so I push it from behind, one hand on the saddle pushing it very slowly forward trying to keep the front wheel centered so the bike doesn’t slip off the side, my left hand balancing on a railing shaky enough that it feels like it wouldn’t bear much weight. Very slow going - we considered posting the video of it, but you get the idea.

Not as much fun as it looks. My bike is on the other side, waiting for another shove.

At least the down staircase is a little wider and I can just carry it down.

So that’s one. The other bike and set of panniers are still on the other side, so we’re only half done. We’re at this awhile. Thoughts of getting in to Whitby early begin to evaporate. Finally though we’re on the road again, rolling downriver along the Esk until we come to Grosmont. Rachael has gotten just far enough ahead of me here so that she makes it across the tracks before the bars come down. I don’t though, and I stand there and wait for not one but two engines to pass through, watching her work her way up the steep hill opposite and thinking about the climb awaiting me when the bars finally lift.

She’s walking. It must be as bad as it looks.

Finally the Isle of Mull passes through and the bars go up.

Looking back down at Grosmont. When the Garmin tells me we’re up to 15% and the end still isn’t in sight I decide I should stop and have a look back down.

I walk the last few hundred yards to the top, the Garmin marking it at 17%. The really tough riders could make a loop back to Pickering up the one-in-three grade I’ve heard of before, but thankfully that’s not our direction today.

So that’s it for drama for the ride, but not the end of the work. We’re never far from the river but it’s up and down all the way to Whitby - a series of short but steep climbs that become more wearing as we go. We finally drag in to Whitby at three, and are shocked to find the town a dense mass of pedestrians and backed up traffic. We walk the last five blocks to the White Horse and Griffin because the streets, sidewalks and roads are all too clogged with cars and peds for us to be able to cycle.

It’s three when we arrive, and neither of us has an interest in doing anything more challenging than just walking downstairs to the bar for a beverage of choice while we regroup and wait for dinner to roll around. There’s more to the day, and an explanation for why this town is so surprisingly overcrowded on a midweek afternoon, but that’s a story for a separate post.

Along the Esk, entering the outskirts of Whitby.

Crossing the Esk, just as the steam train comes through.

Whitby Abbey makes an extraordinary sight on the ridge above town, with Saint Mary’s church on its left. We’ll have to find the legs to make it up there, but later.

Video sound track: Bright Eyes, by Classic Stream Orchestra

Heart

Comment

Link

Ride stats today: 24 miles, 2,400’; for the tour: 974 miles, 39,500’

Today's ride: 24 miles (39 km)
Total: 974 miles (1,568 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	9
Comment on this entry	Comment	1

Lednar De NallohI was confused (was it old age?) but I think this should be page 34
Reply to this comment
2 years ago