Coast to Coast Day 2 - Hartside to Stanhope, July 9th, 2006
Distance: 24.56 miles
Max Speed: 43 mph. That's right, 43mph :)
Avg Speed: 10 mph
Photographs from day 2
The rain had continued quite heavily through most of the previous evening but Day 2 dawned with clear skies and and air lending the dew-soaked fields a sparkling, almost magical quality as we jumped back in the car and scooted up Hartside to our re-start point. There was some occasionally heavy mist rolling down Hartside and a lot of moisture in the air, which was a rare treat because back in DC a good rolling fog is about as rare as a good cup of tea; you just don't see it.
Up at the top it was a fair bit chillier, and promoted us to wear waterproof / shell layers of varying obnoxious colour. Of course Jon's was black, although whether through design or accumulated mud / grime from the cycle back from Beijing we weren't too sure. There was time for a quick surveying of the territory we had conquered the previous day before we moved off.
Although perhaps the Northern Pennines don't gain mass tourist appeal compared to the idyllic Lake District, the scenery on Hartside and beyond strikes a much deeper chord within me. This is not simply due to the river of sweat produced making the ascent. There is something more visceral about the starkness, the feeling of isolation, the uninterrupted wildness that make the landscape very powerful. I'm glad the masses stay elsewhere and leave this region unspoiled. Long may it continue.
According to our guidebook the great northern rivers the Tyne, Tees, Wear and Derwent rise here. Several hills are crossed but the area is in fact one massive block of ancient rock covered mainly in peat, 40 by 36 miles. This area also harbours a unique blend of flora (Mountain Pansy, blue Spring Gentians and various Orchids ), fauna (the Peregrine, Merlin, Otters and Red Squirrel) and industrial archaeology.
It was with somewhat feral grins, then, that we saddled up ready to reap the rewards of yesterday's climbing with a quick bizz back down the other side of Hartside to warm up the legs. Waving goodbye to Mum, we rounded the corner and span happily away, almost freewheeling for the first 4 miles or so which was very pleasant and gave many more chances to enjoy the countryside first thing in the morning.
The initial descent was fast and the adrenaline fix woke up the remaining parts of the cardiovascular system that cups of coffee could not. I would love to recount how I saw examples of each flora and fauna mentioned above but fine detail perception tends to dwindle somewhat when you're doing 35+ mph down a hill, can't pedal fast enough to spin your highest gear, and your wide eyes are streaming. As long as your brakes hold up for the hairpin corners, what a feeling! Great expanses of rolling moorland opened up before us and I began to understand why Dad always gets up at the crack of dawn to go cycling, back home. Simply put, there is nobody else about and for that particular moment in time, the surrounding land is yours alone.
Over time, rapid moorland manoeuvres gave way to a more gentle undulating roads that curved along the side of the valley and provided plenty of exercise with some occasionally steep climbs. Eventually this road meandered down to the valley floor into Garrigill, where we crossed the South Tyne river to hit the first serious climb of the day over the side of Flinty Fell. Garrigill itself was a lovely little village with pretty bridges and what looked like the worlds biggest mushroom residing proudly on top of a tree stump. The climb out was the complete opposite of the previous day's multi-mile slog - a relatively short (1 mile) but sharp uphill that left the heart pounding against your chest and lungs gasping for air.
Quickly following the Garrill climb was the climb out of Nenthead to the summit of Black Hill, which is the highest point on the entire C2C route at 609m. Here again there was a serious off road route which is very steep and rough. While we remained on the road it was noticeable that the scenery of the North Pennines became more wild and there were frequent reminders of former mining activity.
After all the hard climbing we had endured on the previous days it was nice to peak on Black Hill and spend the rest of the day in a (mostly) down hill direction and get some serious speed up. While you can really get moving down some of these descents, they are punctuated by some equally serious brake-melting hairpin bends that can occasionally have gravel all over them. It was on one of these descents that Jon and I hit the madman button and got our heads down to see how fast we could go.
Usually on all descents the three of us spread out, give each other some room and perform frequent cross-checks over the shoulder to make sure we're all still in line and nobody has had 'a moment'. After railing around one of the last hairpins both Jon and I didn't bother to check for a while because our eyes were wide and glued to the road ahead as we hit 43mph WITH panniers on the bike.
Quite the biggest rush on the trip to date - except when we turned around and there was no sign of Dad. Uh-oh. Massive sinking feeling in the pit of our stomachs, thoughts of Dad shooting off the side of the hill at 30 mph or missing the turn and wiping out went flashing through our mind as we waited for 1 minute to see if he'd come whizzing by. When he didn't show up, we turned around and began sprinting up the hill as much as we could. Bear in mind this is a steep hill we'd just come speeding down, but adrenaline kept us going as we feared we'd find a red smear on the road that used to be our Dad. Instead we find him jauntily taking pictures of an old farm house and somewhat smugly pointing out the C2C signposted turn off to the right that both Jon and I had missed on our headrush down the mountain. As this point I fell off the bike, exhausted and had a nice lie down in a field for a while, feeling suitably sheepish.
After no more drama, we finished up in Stanhope and made our rendezvous with Mum once more. At the end of Day 2 it was nice to have broken the back of most of the climbing work. There was, however, one very notable exception yet to come. In the morning, the challenge of the steepest, nastiest climb yet out of Stanhope would be waiting for us.
Before then, there were beers to be drunk and a great day to reflect upon.
Day 2 Suunto log. Kindly observe maximum speed.
Route for Day 2, courtesy of "The Ultimate C2C Guide"
Hartside to Nenthead
Nenthead to Stanhope
Overall route map courtesy of Sea to Sea cycle route published by Sustrans
Max Speed: 43 mph. That's right, 43mph :)
Avg Speed: 10 mph
Photographs from day 2
The rain had continued quite heavily through most of the previous evening but Day 2 dawned with clear skies and and air lending the dew-soaked fields a sparkling, almost magical quality as we jumped back in the car and scooted up Hartside to our re-start point. There was some occasionally heavy mist rolling down Hartside and a lot of moisture in the air, which was a rare treat because back in DC a good rolling fog is about as rare as a good cup of tea; you just don't see it.Up at the top it was a fair bit chillier, and promoted us to wear waterproof / shell layers of varying obnoxious colour. Of course Jon's was black, although whether through design or accumulated mud / grime from the cycle back from Beijing we weren't too sure. There was time for a quick surveying of the territory we had conquered the previous day before we moved off.
Although perhaps the Northern Pennines don't gain mass tourist appeal compared to the idyllic Lake District, the scenery on Hartside and beyond strikes a much deeper chord within me. This is not simply due to the river of sweat produced making the ascent. There is something more visceral about the starkness, the feeling of isolation, the uninterrupted wildness that make the landscape very powerful. I'm glad the masses stay elsewhere and leave this region unspoiled. Long may it continue.
According to our guidebook the great northern rivers the Tyne, Tees, Wear and Derwent rise here. Several hills are crossed but the area is in fact one massive block of ancient rock covered mainly in peat, 40 by 36 miles. This area also harbours a unique blend of flora (Mountain Pansy, blue Spring Gentians and various Orchids ), fauna (the Peregrine, Merlin, Otters and Red Squirrel) and industrial archaeology.It was with somewhat feral grins, then, that we saddled up ready to reap the rewards of yesterday's climbing with a quick bizz back down the other side of Hartside to warm up the legs. Waving goodbye to Mum, we rounded the corner and span happily away, almost freewheeling for the first 4 miles or so which was very pleasant and gave many more chances to enjoy the countryside first thing in the morning.
The initial descent was fast and the adrenaline fix woke up the remaining parts of the cardiovascular system that cups of coffee could not. I would love to recount how I saw examples of each flora and fauna mentioned above but fine detail perception tends to dwindle somewhat when you're doing 35+ mph down a hill, can't pedal fast enough to spin your highest gear, and your wide eyes are streaming. As long as your brakes hold up for the hairpin corners, what a feeling! Great expanses of rolling moorland opened up before us and I began to understand why Dad always gets up at the crack of dawn to go cycling, back home. Simply put, there is nobody else about and for that particular moment in time, the surrounding land is yours alone.Over time, rapid moorland manoeuvres gave way to a more gentle undulating roads that curved along the side of the valley and provided plenty of exercise with some occasionally steep climbs. Eventually this road meandered down to the valley floor into Garrigill, where we crossed the South Tyne river to hit the first serious climb of the day over the side of Flinty Fell. Garrigill itself was a lovely little village with pretty bridges and what looked like the worlds biggest mushroom residing proudly on top of a tree stump. The climb out was the complete opposite of the previous day's multi-mile slog - a relatively short (1 mile) but sharp uphill that left the heart pounding against your chest and lungs gasping for air.
Quickly following the Garrill climb was the climb out of Nenthead to the summit of Black Hill, which is the highest point on the entire C2C route at 609m. Here again there was a serious off road route which is very steep and rough. While we remained on the road it was noticeable that the scenery of the North Pennines became more wild and there were frequent reminders of former mining activity. After all the hard climbing we had endured on the previous days it was nice to peak on Black Hill and spend the rest of the day in a (mostly) down hill direction and get some serious speed up. While you can really get moving down some of these descents, they are punctuated by some equally serious brake-melting hairpin bends that can occasionally have gravel all over them. It was on one of these descents that Jon and I hit the madman button and got our heads down to see how fast we could go.
Usually on all descents the three of us spread out, give each other some room and perform frequent cross-checks over the shoulder to make sure we're all still in line and nobody has had 'a moment'. After railing around one of the last hairpins both Jon and I didn't bother to check for a while because our eyes were wide and glued to the road ahead as we hit 43mph WITH panniers on the bike.
Quite the biggest rush on the trip to date - except when we turned around and there was no sign of Dad. Uh-oh. Massive sinking feeling in the pit of our stomachs, thoughts of Dad shooting off the side of the hill at 30 mph or missing the turn and wiping out went flashing through our mind as we waited for 1 minute to see if he'd come whizzing by. When he didn't show up, we turned around and began sprinting up the hill as much as we could. Bear in mind this is a steep hill we'd just come speeding down, but adrenaline kept us going as we feared we'd find a red smear on the road that used to be our Dad. Instead we find him jauntily taking pictures of an old farm house and somewhat smugly pointing out the C2C signposted turn off to the right that both Jon and I had missed on our headrush down the mountain. As this point I fell off the bike, exhausted and had a nice lie down in a field for a while, feeling suitably sheepish.After no more drama, we finished up in Stanhope and made our rendezvous with Mum once more. At the end of Day 2 it was nice to have broken the back of most of the climbing work. There was, however, one very notable exception yet to come. In the morning, the challenge of the steepest, nastiest climb yet out of Stanhope would be waiting for us.
Before then, there were beers to be drunk and a great day to reflect upon.
Day 2 Suunto log. Kindly observe maximum speed.
Route for Day 2, courtesy of "The Ultimate C2C Guide"
Hartside to Nenthead
Nenthead to Stanhope
Overall route map courtesy of Sea to Sea cycle route published by Sustrans
