Over the Hill and Back - 25/26 May 2019

The mid-morning start gave a chance for me to get a good nights sleep in, a welcome change from the common 6am start for a 400, the hotel breakfast preparing me for the days efforts.
The weather was dry but the sky was overcast, the forecast was threatening heavy rain for the Central Belt and borders while North Northumberland and Cumbria would get heavy drizzle through the night, however to counter this the temperature was forecast to be mild allowing lighter kit to be in the bag than I have commonly had of late.

As we set off from the Focus centre I stuck with the bunch and managed to keep with them as we rode along the usual mid-forenoon route over the hill from the town cross; as is customary once we reached Selkirk the stronger climbers disappeared into the distance as I renewed my never ending struggle with gravity,  I knew I was slow, slower than normal, struggling against that other invisible foe, the headwind. When I got to the Old School Café Robbie was sitting with the SBR group who were nearly ready to go, they had been there for a good half hour having a leisurely lunch of a soup and sandwich.

I decided to partake the same victuals though swerving the cheese options left me with Butternut Squash Soup, a Tuna Mayo Sandwich and chocolate chip cookie to finish off; though I was doing okay for time I couldn't allow the soup to cool long enough so sadly had to let half the plate of soup go to waste.

We set off from Eskdalemuir with light rain falling with a plan to avoid the A7 on a route I had identified that looked like would reduce the distance and not climb as much; this involved taking the A7 cycle path to the Cannonbie junction and then turning onto country roads that would cut the corner of Longtown taking us more directly to Brampton. 

As we approached the bridge just after Langholm we spotted the road closure signs had been removed, deciding that as Geograph showed a walkable route past the landslide that had closed this road for nearly 5 years it was worth a shot we escaped the horribleness of the A7 and found ourselves on a nice country road and as we approached the site of the landslip the fresh barriers, embankment and tar of a completed construction project delighted us.  Not thinking the smooth tar let speed build fast on the twisting descent and suddenly I realized there was limited grip on the freshly laid tar, still greasy from a lack of traffic, destabalized by thus poor adhesion I straight lined hanging onto the brakes for as long as I dared before taking a turn away from the impending rockface on the first corner of note, I completed the descent a tad more cautiously.

Cutting the corner, increasing the climbing

The road descended rapidly towards a narrow bridge over the Liddell Water where the only hint we had switched country was a small sign welcoming us to Cumbria where at Heathersgill I was briefly confused by arriving at a crossroads where all of the other 3 legs were painted with give way lines; not a normal road set up.
As we reached the Brampton road along this "short cut" it became clear that either the mapping I'd used had duff elevation data or I had mis-read it, as we clocked up an extra 300m in this section and also that thanks to the unexpected road opening it didn't work out as short either.  A welcome diversion from the A7 drag but perhaps not ideal during a 400km that's noticeably overdistance and also endowed with 2 AAA points for the climby section in England.

Brampton marks a low point on routes that go this way the road in sits at 36m as it crosses the river Irthing, on this ride unlike we weren't just going up to Alston, we were going "Over the Hill" to Barnard Castle; that hill is better known as Yad Moss the road sumitting at 598m! Though this isn't the highest road out of Alston, that is Killhope Cross which reaches 623m.

The Alston Train

The climb to Alston itself isn't too bad, after a sharp pull through the trees out of Brampton and the nasty crossing of the bypass and watching your wheels at the Milton level crossing it's evens out to a gentle climb through Hallbankgate, Midgeholm and Slaggyford. We passed a field full of tents and a sign stating "Heart of Scotland LDWA" curious!  From Slaggyford the road ramped up, a bridge and a corner that leads into a sharp ride I call "the bastard" lifted us from 205m in the village to 272m only 2km out of town, from this summit it's gentle undulations to the town centre, however as we climbed we heard the chuffing of the South Tynedale Railway engine making it's way up the hill, we had overtaken it. The low speed it travels at making it easy to pick a photo spot to wait for it.

Bumping into riders on the 240 from Halifax

As we stood at the petrol station eating a mid-afternoon snack that could be Afternoon Tea a rider Robbie knows arrived much to his surprise, soaked and unseen at the start.  The Old 240 was overlapping with us and the riders had had a soaking on their way north; this gave me a twinge of hope, the rain had not been forecast to pass south of here and certainly not so early, had the weather front brought the worst of it to the south of us?
Other riders had not checked the GPS route for oddities and had arrived via the NCN route and were reporting the typical involvement of a bit of off-roading including stairs, not ideal!
Maybe I should have shared my discovery on checking the route with others.

Conditions remained dry for us as we climbed up the cobbles out of the village and began out ascent to the Yad Moss ski centre, despite the severity of the ascent we were making a good pace and the thought of the summit passed my mind as the view opened out to my right and the scene to my left became bleaker; eventually the ski lifts poked their tower tops above the hillside but there was no obvious building like at the Scottish Centres just lifts in the moor.  A good cattle grid announced our entry to County Durham and I noted that we still hadn't seen anyone heading North.

Yad Moss

As we plunged down the hill I noted the amount of habitation just off the road, slate roofs scattered around the moor generally with gable into the wind but a couple oddly set to take the full brunt of the wind, rain and snow.  Through Langdon Beck, noting the pub and youth hostel for the ascent and finally into Middleton-In-Teesdale I was distracted by and interesting shop frontage on the corner and passed the junction for Barnard Castle.

Barnard Castle

At Romaldkirk we joined the route of the Great North Road of the previous weekend for a short overlapping stint to the turn at Barnard Castle.  On Brant and Slape Paul Revell had recommended the Fish and Chip Shop so we were drooling as we climbed the main street of the town and arrived just as the outdoor and rear seating areas were closed.  I assisted the staff with the seats so we could get the bikes against the wall and sat in the window eating out suppers, a Haddock for me and a Sausage for Robbie.

Yad Moss in Daylight

After we had eaten at stepped back out into the world I could feel the change in the air, the wind was gusting gently, the air was heavy, I could feel a storm brewing in the air.
We left Barnard Castle and started the climb as the light started to fade, gently at first through Romaldkirk and Middleton to Newbiggin;
I had paid attention to the speed and feeling of the hill on the descent and decided this was the easier side, mostly low single digit gradients with a sharper ramp at Langdon beck, the lights of the hostel shone out in the flat grey light, we could see guests sitting in the warmth playing board games, drinking, some were still in the kitchen.
By the pub things were darker still, the trees rocking in the wind, cutting out more of the light, again a welcoming interior scene was set, after crossing over the bridge and a sharp ramp took us out onto the moor proper.  The houses I had noted scattered around earlier showed their habitation status, sitting room and bedroom lights shining out of the darkness in many but a few showed no signs of life.

Yad Moss in Daylight

We entered the mist; the first cattle grid rumbled under our wheels, a landmark in this bleak landscape muted by the whiteness of sensory deprivation.  The wind and rain and mist continued in the nothingness, the summit cattle grid finally rumbled, now with the shelter of the hill lost we were assaulted by heavy horizontal drizzle directly in the face, the wind buffeting, my glasses became useless and were stuffed into my back pocket, I as now squinting into the darkness, my casquet doing little to keep the driven drizzle out my eyes as the drop towards Alston began; the mist thickened, visibility dropped to a few meters as the speed rose with gravity.

Houses on the Moss in Daylight

The mist eased and houses appeared to our side as Gargill and then Alston arrived, the late night control finding began as we threaded our way down the tarred line in the cobbles, no ATM at the Co-Op, an uninviting looking chain pub, the Cumberland hotel, no location of the receipt from the SPAR ATM.

As we pondered what to do I spotted a couple of walkers huddled under the eaves of the Spar, 2 other walkers passed on the other side of the road; I asked them if they were on some sort of event; turns out there's a form of Long Distance walking of suspiciously similar format; it was their National 100 miler taking place in these hills, that explained the "Heart of Scotland LDWA".

We retreated to the Cumberland, in the porch I spotted a CTC Enamel Plaque "10,000 Miles" with a map of a route on Great Britain, we caught last orders with seconds to spare; the inhabitants were a welcoming sort and we sat for a while drinking coke while head torches passed in the dankness of night.

Falling light on the climb back over Yad Moss

With the blustery headwind and the rain the descent out of Alston didn't offer the speed it promised, we both needed to eat and I mentioned a good shelter I'd spotted at Hallbankgate; it offered an open doorway facing the wind but two good windward windows and two side along with a good sized wooden bench provided a perfect spot to sit and eat cake and no doubt snooze.

But there's no time for such luxuries as a snooze on a tough 400 and we were back out into the wind, the rain was gone for now, the gentle descent to Longtown after Brampton is usually good for a bit of speed, and we were soon on the road to Gretna Services, with 3 route options through town we took the Springfield route that avoided the town centre and took us straight into Gretna Green; a wedding reception was in full swing in the hotel, and Robbie commented on how what was once a target for young couples from England eloping from dissenting parents (who were often hot on their heels to stop the unwanted tryst) to take advantage of Scots law.

We stopped at the services to use the facilities and I was badly in need of a chamois creme top up. I made the mistake of putting my head down on the table for a minute, Robbie woke me when he returned, I was groggy I needed a couple more... An hour after we arrived we were on our way again, the uninspiring B7076 taking us to the more salubrious services of Johnstone Bridge, and most importantly of all, we were in time for a McDonalds breakfast.  We stayed long enough to eat our pancakes and crack on, the climb of Beattock summit starts here but we turned off into Moffat, another control with only the ATM to dish out a receipt, day was waking slowly, no drunks were around to shout abuse from a window.  I normally find the ride out to the foot of the Grey Mare's Tale "Annoying" but the waking world provided distractions, the scenery was again visible and birds played their morning songs, although Moffatdale was dry Black Hope teased us with black clouds ahead as the dale teased us with it's rising and falling.

On the tail in the misty morning

Finally the Grey Mare's Tail car park arrived, no camper vans or tents this morning, but a handful of cars scattered around, their occupants no doubt asleep under canvas in the hills.  The final climb isn't hard, a slow drag up a narrow valley and then at last the top it had just gone 8am.
This descent I now know so well, not a plummet by any means but a good fast descent on a wide road, the Borders side being of considerably better quality than the Dumfries. Life was present as we passed the café at St Mary's loch, we'd even talked of stopping for breakfast at the Gordon Arms, but we carried on the flattest route to Selkirk.

The sun was out and the skies clearing, the hard nights work was nearly over as we crossed the Tweed at Sunderland Hall, the small matter of 54m of climbing over Gala Hill was all that was left to do, the clock ticked past 25 hours as I approached the summit but we'd made it, Over the Hill, and Back.

I've got to thank Robbie for sticking with me after the first control, even though it meant he wasn't riding at his natural pace, an extra challenge that I know affected his riding, with the low number of riders and the AAA hilly nature I'd have spent the night in tough conditions pretty much alone as it was really only the tough riders that eat hills and rain for breakfast and those who had left their PBP 400 qualifier to the last weekend that took the start, hopefully I'll find a good group of slower climbing riders on my AAA 600 though out there the scenery is accompaniment enough!