High Force and Langley Castle Sunday Rideout 20th April 2008

It was a bitterly cold wind that brought me to life as I stepped outside at 08.00 hrs to get the bike ready for today’s ride. The calendar seemed to be going backwards lately, its April for heavens sake! I swear it was warmer in January. Julie locked three legged Pooka indoors and waddled out after me wrapped up tightly for today’s cold run up north. Off we rode heading towards today’s gathering place in Ripon, the roads through Doncaster were empty on this wintry grey Sunday, the clouds looked empty of rain they just hung there a few feet above us or so it looked. We dropped onto the A1 I grinned again at the billboard a mile up the road pasted to the side of the container in the field; it warned PREPARE TO MEET THY MAKER. “Not today thanks” I muttered. I cast an eye rearward for that Volvo just in case! Suddenly a weasel a few metres in front bolted across the road heading for a rain hole in the curb. I’m glad he made it Id hate to be a killer and run over one of Gods creatures wouldn’t you?

We arrived at Ripon and hour or so later at ten and waited for the impending flock of Wings to descend, we looked around at today’s special farmers market, everyone looked busy setting their wares out, market traders wrapped in their usual outdoor clobber swapped banter as they made ready their stalls. I saw a lady setting up her Spanish paella stall with two huge pans and a mountain of mushrooms. Nearby a Columbian couple set up their pan pipe and hat stall, this looked to be a varied market indeed.

A white 1800 flashed into view, circled the market before settling besides our black 1800, they looked like a Honda negative sitting there together, Denis and Lorraine from Barnsley smiled and unwrapped themselves. They had traded in their common red for this beautiful American White Princess. “Two dabs” and “Lorraine 2r’s” looked well proud of her. It was nearly a year since Id seen these two guys on one of Barry’s Sunday ride outs. Denis earned his nickname on a tight awkward uphill bend and Lorraine had 2r’s she kept pointing out to me! Next came Tony, and Hazel also from Barnsley on their glitzy red number, Hazel announced to all she had five layers on today, she looked warm as toast!

Barry and Tina arrived from Appys shop in Keighley; they brought Russ and Elaine from Halifax on their famous well travelled1500 “breadvan”. I once saw Russ pull off an outstanding move in the Italian Alps on this monster as a man called “Stretch” stopped dead in his tracks just yards in front of Russ. Even Rossi couldn’t have done it; the move had to be seen to be believed. Today was Elaine’s birthday so she got special hugs. Everyone looked to have donned the entire contents of their wardrobe today, except Tina, I think she had her heated seat on overtime coz her bum felt lovely and warm….so Barry said.

Finally Mick arrived on the big blue 1500 with lager dispenser swinging from the handlebars in the brisk wind. Christine was away in London with the girls for the day. I think the kitchen DIY was on the back burner again as Mick was drawn to the empty roads and a day of fun. The banter began as old friends sideswiped each other; early visitors to the market came and had a look at our “bling” encrusted steeds.

The preverbal “old boy” came and stood next to me and spoke about bikes he had when he was a lad in a bygone age. He mused why we English don’t make proper bikes anymore, oh boy I wish I had a penny for every time I heard this old bikers lament! We said farewell to him and Ripon then hit the road heading out towards lovely Layburn then onto the “Old Tank Road” No snow today just bag full of cold winds, the colour was returning to the land, green fields were spotted white with sheep and sweet looking lambs bouncing about. We saw quite a few soldiers on the ranges of to our right, the “Live Firing” blood red flags cracked and whipped as the bitter wind pulled at them, on a smaller range some distance away guys in civilian clothes had weapons on bipods and they were looking a bit out of place, snipers perhaps? I saw the funny Curlews birds again they looked quite stubby with small tails fat bodies and huge curled bills, you could hear them squealing as they crossed the heather at low level. I just love watching our wild birds. I’d hate to run into one.

I was at the back again looking after the backdoor for everyone and keeping Barry informed by CB. So for me looking to the left and right a little was easier than being within the six bike group. “Two Dabs” joined in with some jovial comments as did Tony. This was great, I wondered what today adventure would bring? Whoops! I just missed a bird there. We saw lots of “road kill” victims both bird and animal, how clumsy can people be I wondered. Ah well, the carrion and fox would not go hungry today.

I periodically scanned the sky when the road straightened, I looked for the tell tale signs of rain that had been predicted I looked for those grey clouds trailing skirts of rain, they always remind me of Victorian ladies in their floor scraping dress’s. But for now it’s just cold and somewhat grey.

The village of Reeth next as we forked right and head skywards on the little unnamed road towards Tan Hill, just a few miles along and we turned off this road heading north east dipping and climbing along sparsely dotted heather and gorse. We pulled over at a sign that announced we had reached the borders of County Durham and the lands of The Prince Bishops, someone had thoughtfully built a little wall so Barry christened it, I found a fold in the ground and spent the next five minutes wiggling through layers of cold, frantically searching… searching… searching! I sometimes wonder if God might have been women, making this horrible thing happen to us manly men. Photos were taken of each other grimacing in the swirling winds, it blew up my helmet and out the back or so it felt!
Enough taking in the fresh air it was time to head down the other side into County Durham towards Barnard Castle. I looked at the boulders and wondered at past times when creature roamed the planet, it’s a hell of a place this planet Earth, things got killed for a purpose back then, not like these days.

We dropped down down down for miles, trees and shrubs appeared now as the land kinked and twisted offering protection from the wild elements. The road twisted into gully’s dips and bumps, ancient wind warped trees sat here and there as we dropped further down, Tony cut along with a grin on his face following Denis at a pace. It was a clear road and easy to see well ahead, it was safe move along the road like this, I joined in it was great fun, even though my eyes were streaming in the wind, what can possibly happen?

We were progressing quickly along a fine piece of road six bikes astern, Barry shouted into the intercom “Bird in the road guys!” I saw everyone dip left and right as they avoided Phil the pigeon who was sat, stock still on the tarmac, I looked down as my right boot passed inches over Phil’s head. Wow! That was so flippin close; He just sat there as we cut a swathe to the left and right of him. Seconds later we passed through a brace of brown feathers fluttering around Denis said in Barnslyish ”bloody feathers?”  “Feathers?” repeated I just as Barry blurted out “I’ve just hit a pheasant!” a long pause followed by “it came out of nowhere but I got it….” Or did he say “It came out of nowhere” I can’t make up my mind just what he said exactly!
We pulled over to inspect the front end of Barry’s 1800; the poor creature had hit low on the fairing causing no damage only knocking a spotlight. It was very lucky for Barry and Tina but not so lucky for the poor bird. Just imagine, flying along minding its own business when THWACK! Barry rams the poor thing right of the road!  Tina bless her, said in defence of hubbi “ Its OK I saw it run off” Now in the scale of things being hit at a zillion miles an hour by a giant red train doesn’t result in one getting up and running away does it?  Denis says he now has the answer to that story of who killed cock robin.  We had the “Guilford six” once now we have the “Keighley 2”.
We eases off the pace and closed up as Barnard Castle came into view, we cruised up the High Street in fine style and turned left along the long straight road through Middleton-in-Teesdale to our stop at “High Force” for a pot of tea and a meander to the waterfall just 10 minutes from the car park, the waterfall was in full flow spilling out cold dirty brown peat ridden water over rocks as smooth as glass, shaped by old father time himself. W took photos of the falls and Tony as he slipped around on the rocks hindered by his incontinence trousers, or were they his waterproof over-trousers?
A couple of Durham policemen on sleek Yamaha FJ motorcycles pulled up to observe the passing traffic, adopting a gentlemanly high visibility stance and not in a “hide in a horse box” Welsh way! A few of us gave them the time of day and talked bikes for a while. The rest of the group came out of the pub feeling refreshed and warm as toast from the welcoming open fire in the cosy lounge. The Durham Duo bid us safe riding as they pulled out and disappeared down the road, about a minute later two race replica bikes tore noisily  in the same direction, I smiled to myself as we made ready our departure. Ten minutes down the road my thoughts were correct as we passed the Durham Duo, they had pulled over the race replica boys and began their re-education with wagging notebooks, I smiled again.

We turned off now onto a tiny road that humped and bumped up the hillside heading towards the grey clouds and slight mist. We crested the rise and ran down the other side. It was a splendid view as we left the haze behind again looking left and right it looked like one huge crease of green baize, with stony grey lines as the old walls divided the land up, we hit the bottom and turned in the direction of the villages of Allenheads and Dirt Pot, It was a lovely last 10 miles to our destination of Langley Castle.

A touring group were already there with some superb looking old cars whose names escape me, sorry folks but me and cars are worlds apart!
The castle has been rebuilt several times as the old black and white photos from the early 1800’s showed and is now in the hands of a gentleman and his wife from the new world, I have to say he has made a fine job in keeping it English and must be always talking about his castle back home in the USA. The staff smiled and greeted us warmly, one led us to our tea and scones, and a young chap was on hand to serve us after we dumped jackets gloves scarves and other cold weather paraphernalia in tidy heaps. Tony elected to keep in incontinence trousers on. We all sat back and took in the huge room and fine furniture, at one end glass cabinets housed trinkets and silver, huge portraits adorned the stone walls around us and men in tights looked down at us. Barry asked if we could go up onto the roof, we had come this way one Thursday last summer finding it by accident. If they have time they will give you an escort onto the flat roof, the views are fantastic, and it’s also a good way to walk off the effects of the scones as another one magically found its way into the palm of my hand. Hazel swiped the strawberry from it making a total of nine strawberry halves and two cups of tea.

Langley Castle is not huge but at least it’s in one piece and although rebuilt it doesn’t look modern it’s a popular venue for weddings, business meetings and posh away days. They also hire out rooms for short stays at a price befitting the surroundings.

It was time to head back south after a fulfilling day out, although it was cold it didn’t rain in spite of Paul the weatherman and the druids predictions. The swift run south on the A68 was a “helter skelter” ride up and down the Durham hills on through  harshly named Tow Law, a long long high street of dirty grey pit houses devoid of colours, it looked quite bleak all that was missing was those damn short legged dogs that attack only me! Before long we were fuelling up and exiting onto the A1 south. After around twenty miles we began to fragment towards Keighley, Leeds, Barnsley and Doncaster. Another day well spent and in company well liked AND we know who killed Cock Robin!

Until the next time then Wingers

Dave Sharp