Ten Dales of Insanity

I thought it was funny when I planned it. Reality is always a little different as the miles pedalled extend way longer than the quick join the dots on the map. But, it’s been a tremendous outing, starting with a train ride to a little station called Wennington. I’ve got that journey sussed now, today, making time for a peppermint tea to go and, on the train, pulling out a pack of dunking biscuits from my back pocket.

I thought it was nine Dales but discovered the trickiest hill claims a Yorkshire Dale too. Ten! The toughest part was going to be keeping my head in gear to not cut any out; there were multiple places where I could delete a giant loop. It seems only fitting to remember them dale by beautiful dale. 

Barbondale - a gentle uphill heading past cow parsley-filled hedgerows in pure blue sky towards Dent. I discovered Barkin Beck descended from the hill on the left... Barking Bex, that’d be right!

Dentdale - the weather forecast lied. It was supposed to feel like 3°C but it was more like 15. I even asked if the post office was open so I could send my jacket home (No)!  I decided that 16 miles in was too early for a cafe and I wanted to get the next climb in the bag before my legs thought they’d finished so on I pedalled past two lovely looking coffee shops.

Deepdale - a stinker of a hill, gated half way, with multiple steep ramps before the summit. I’ve only descended this road and remember the brakes on my old bike not being strong enough so I knew it was going to be a toughie. I passed a happy couple on heavy touring bikes and was pleased of my day bike and summer wheels.

Kingsdale - I was looking forward to this descent until I saw the strange white road disappearing into the distance. Six whole miles of fresh tarmac with the loosest top dressing imaginable. No kidding, I surfed the top section and was pleased to make it to Ingleton without a puncture or scuffed knees. I treated myself to a cheese toastie at the Ingleton Falls cafe to get over it.

Chapel-le-Dale - back up to Ribblehead. I hadn’t realised this road went on for quite so long but it was gentle, beautiful and with tailwind. Accompanying me on either side, the mountains of Ingleborough and Whernside. Along here, I spotted what I think will be my Blip, a classic Yorkshire Dales tree growing out of a rock.

Ribblesdale - a quiet, undulating descent with wonderful views of Pen-y-Ghent, heading through Horton before turning left at Stainforth.

Silverdale - no, not the one in Lancashire but a quiet dale heading up the east side of Pen-y-Ghent. I said hello to a postman in Stainforth village and got a friendly toot as he passed me on the way up. On his way down, an encouraging wave too to cheer me on. 

Littondale - I had to make a decision here and knew this would be the trickiest head-game. Straight into Wharfedale or turn right towards Malham? I thought I’d need food in Arncliffe, and water, but was careful not to run out of the latter and convinced myself the only way to keep on-route was to get cracking up the next hill. So, I stuffed a bar and a half down my neck and turned straight into the Brootes Lane headwind. Ouch! But I wasn’t turning back now!

Malhamdale - it was certainly the hardest ascent of Malhamdale that I’ve done, running low on food, being slowed by the wind and starting to cool over the high road. Still, the sun was shining and I was feeling pleased with my heart that it had won over my head and legs. A lovely stop awaited in Malham before the last leg home.

Wharfedale! - home - but still 30 miles to get there. With the stiff breeze now firmly on my side, I sang my way home with a few alternative lyrics, generally about the state of my legs.

It’s been very satisfying on multiple counts, particularly the iron front. I actually feel like my body is functioning properly this year and today was the perfect real test.

Although I am now toast!