I read on the old t’internet that the world is going to end to today. I was a bit put out to be honest, I’ve just ordered 20 new inner tubes, and there’s no way I’m going to get through them before the ultimate Armageddon. They were good value, but I might have been better off buying a trunk of Muesli bars, which might keep me going if Tesco closes down post – the end of the world.
Anyway, with 24 hours left to live, what are you going to do? Go and blow it all at the local casino? (which in Yorkshire means afternoon OAP bingo £1 per stake – no thanks!) or go to Harry Ramsden for a slap up fish and chip supper and end the world with salt and vinegar on your tongue?
Park Rash at a civilised time of the year
Well, for me, if the world is going to end, the best thing I could think of is jump on the trusty winter training bike and cycle up to Kettlewell for one final bash at a good solid 25% hill climb.
Park Rash is a real toughie at the best of times. A couple of wicked 25% hairpins as you leave the valley, and then a long steep drag to the summit somewhere in the mist at 510 metres. An average gradient of 10%, but it’s the 25% hairpins which leave you uncertain as to whether you will make it up or not. It’s one thing doing it on a nice light summer bike, it’s another thing in the depth of winter with your winter training bike et al.
Park Rash in Summer – Kettlewell in distance
As I left the small village of Kettlewell, it was eerily silent. Not a single car, person or vehicle in sight. Just me, my bike and plenty of grit and gravel on the road. Out of Kettlewell, there is a short 25% section just as a warm up. The road surface was absolutely terrible. It was more like a mountain track, with big bits of gravel, stones and rocks. I wondered if the gravel had deliberately been placed on the 25% hairpin to help give cars better grip. But, it was very tough on thin bicycle racing wheels. I was glad to have the puncture resistance of Armadillos on the rear wheel. After the first false ascent, you see Park Rash in the distance looming menacingly out of the mist. It looks suitably fearsome as you plod down the valley. As soon as the climb starts, you find yourself weaving all other the road in your lowest gear, hoping desperately to be able to make it up without falling off. I haven’t done any climb like this, since the Lake District back in summer. It’s a real all-over workout. You have to pull hard on the hoods to give enough power to keep the pedals spinning round. Not for the first time this year, I thought a triple chain-ring wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all.
But, fortunately, after sweating bricks, I got round the toughest three hairpins and the road mercifully levelled off. But, even after this cruelly difficult, double hairpin, there is a still a long way to go to the top. Despite the gentler gradient, I was sticking to my lowest gear ratio as I recovered from the shock of so much exertion. After you feel you might, at last, have found a nice rhythm, the climb again begins to get steeper – upto 18%. An unpleasant shock when you’re still dealing with the previous sections efforts.
Finally, I spot I sign saying ‘welcome to Richmondshire‘ or something like that. The mist was so thick, it might have been ‘Road closed, you really shouldn’t have come so far at this time of the year’. I was glad to see some sheep up there, apart from a few ‘baas’ it was all still so eerily quiet. No sign of humanity anywhere. But, at the same time, there was something rather invigorating about being in the middle of nowhere, all on your own. Perhaps the world really had ended after all, and everyone had jumped on waiting spaceship, but they’d forgotten to tell me because I’d spent so long climbing up Park Rash.
Anyway, back to reality, with the mist so thick, the only sensible thing was to do a u-turn and struggle down the long tortuous descent. My joy at the new found seclusion was slightly interrupted by a 7 ton lorry making is improbable way up the 25% hairpins of Park Rash. I really don’t know how it managed that. I’m only glad I didn’t meet it at one of the hairpins.
It’s really tough descending a 25% double hairpin, especially when wet. If anything went wrong, there might be an awful long time for someone to spot a sprawled out cyclist on the side of the road. (but if my mother is reading, it’s perfectly safe. I just exaggerate sometimes for literary effect)
Back down in the valley, the sun threatened to break through the clouds, and there was the welcome sight of human habitation. Park Rash on the shortest day of the year, it’s really worth doing if you have have nothing else better to do. I cycled up to Hubberholme and then did another u-turn to come back down the Wharfe valley back to Ilkley.
This ride was pretty inspiring. The Dales may look prettier in summer, but there is a rugged beauty to the Yorkshire Dales in the depth of winter. With a slight tailwind I made quick progress back home to Menston, though I did get quite soaked on the back roads from Bolton Abbey to Ilkley. The road better resembled a cyclo-cross circuit than an actual road. Grit, gravel and pools of really deep water. It’s fun lifting your legs in the air and cycling through a big puddle of water for the first time. But, after ten times of trying to avoid getting a soaking, it becomes a bit tiresome. I was glad to have the quick drying Castelli nanoflex legwarmers on. To finish off, I climbed over the Cow and Calf, just to make sure I completed over 2012 metres of climbing. I’m not superstitious in anyway. But, when the world doesn’t end, you want to tell your kids the day you cycled 120km and climbed 2012 metres up to the tops of the world.
Well, I hope the world doesn’t end because that was all rather good fun, and I wouldn’t mind doing it again sometime.
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Great post – I can imagine it is quite a slog up Park Rash in Winter. I only ever get that far in the height of Summer, though it is quite a distance to and from Leeds. I’ve also only ever descended it once (a similar ride where I got right to the cattle grid at the pass into Coverdale) – and frankly found the descent completely terrifying. I am a slightly cautious descender even on long straight ‘uns like Fleet Moss into Hawes but the sheer gradient and the gravel on the main corner of the Park Rash descent gave me the feeling I was falling over the handlebars ….
Yes, it’s not for the feint hearted or those with dodgy brakes!
Another good read, thanks. I know exactly what you mean about Mothers knowing of their son’s exploits!
Compelling reading , coming from Guiseley i often ride over the big hills in the dales.
You’r so right about the back road to ilkley it gets more unrideable every year, the potholes are really begining to take their toll , plus the standing water from the fields and the mulsh from the vegatation.
Has inspired me to take a trip up park rash on my winter hack just to see how different it is from my summer best .
It’s a shame about that back-road because it’s so much quieter than the main A road through Ilkley. On the way out, I went out on the B road from Otley to the top of Greenhow – it was quite a good road for cycling and then across to Grassington past stump cross caverns.
BTW: a great sketch about the end of the world
http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=GB&hl=en-GB&v=-hJQ18S6aag
So now the world’s not ended, will you be celebrating with another ride tomorrow?
Yes, I’ll be celebrating with a roller ride in the garage because it’s chucking it down up here.
It’s been a very long while since I rode up Park Rash. That’s one heck of a climb. Enjoyed reading the write up of your ride, and the images …. then the Cow ‘n Calf “to finish off” – respect, mate.
I’d have gone through Burley!!