Dentdale Run

A composite picture of the attendees so that Clive can be included for a change.  On this wonderfully warm and dry September day, collected together at the meet-up near Clitheroe, we have:  Sue, Garf, Kit, Clive, Stu, Pete, Simon, Mrs Clive, Precious Metal, Mrs Precious Metal, Mrs Stuey, Stuey, Veg Man and Chimes.

Start Out from Urmston

The red 'Birds flocked together first, with Simon turning up at Clive & Kit's for the run up to the meet-up near Clitheroe, and Pete briefly dropping by on his way to fill up.  However, before it was time to set off for the Manchester ride up to the meet up meet-up (if you get the drift) at Maccy D's near the Trafford Centre, Pete was back in a trice and ready to set off on his R1 with the 'Birds.  Oh, and note Simon's new jacket!

In fact there were no other Ferrets waiting at the Urmston Maccy D's, although there was a single bike who's rider nodded at us as we streamed into the car park but who didn't hang around to introduce himself, so we assumed that he wasn't a new member and hence just carried on our way back out of the car park and straight onto the M60.  We had an uneventful run up the M66 and onto the A56, with just a bit of damp mist in the air which had vanished by the time we joined the A59 the short way to the main meet-up.

Meet-Up at Maccy D's near Clitheroe

As we pulled into yet another Maccy D's car park (are they appearing everywhere, or is it just coincidence .... more likely the handiness of their toilets) there already waiting were Stu & Lainey and whilst we were all dismounting and saying hello Garf & Sue rolled into the petrol station opposite.  So, all those who had said that they were attending were already together as the clock turned 10:00.

Whilst some of us nipped over to fill up at the petrol station, Simon found fascination in Garf's unfortunate anatomical deformity, and hoped that we didn't come across any church bells sounding out on this Sunday morning.

As the last chance that the Ferrets had been able to get out on a run was as long ago as June, there was an awful lot of catching up to be done, so the half hour's wait for any further attendees was well spent and it didn't seem long before it was time to mount up and start the run.  Nobody else turned up beyond those who had already shown an interest and who were already there.

The route had been arranged to provide a wide range of paces, views and panoramas, but the principle aim was to enjoy the gentle run up one of the Yorkshire Dale's finest hidden gems; Dentdale.  The first leg of getting there was to the White Scar Caves cafe just north of Ingleton where we had our lunch break.

Clitheroe to the White Scar Caves Cafe nr. Ingleton

From the meet-up we dove promptly into Clitheroe, enjoying the fine view of its castle as Clive led us on a circuitous route through the town centre and out onto the Waddington road and through the village of Waddington - one of the prettiest villages in the country.  It was here that we did in fact enjoy the peeling sounds of the local church, and all eyes must have turned to Garf!

From Waddington it was a steady climb up onto the moors towards Newton in Bowland where we were quickly thrown in amongst whole packs of racing cyclists!  So, what should have been a moderately pacey and technically fulfilling section ended up being a tad hampered as we carefully threaded our way past cyclist after cyclist.  This situation stayed with us on and off all the way up to our lunch stop past Ingleton, but the up-side was that the lower pace gave more opportunity to just take in the many wonderful vistas and views along the way.  Firstly the suddenly expanding horizons and the sweep of the hills as we crested the fell above Newton in Bowland before the drop down into the dale and on to Slaidburn, then once more as we rose even higher past Stocks Reservoir and onto the heady heights of Botton Head, and all the time the soft early Autumn colours gently diffused through the feint haziness of the morning.

With the tight and narrow twisting ascent finished, and the patchwork of field and dale, river and crags spread about us we descended more rapidly along wider and less torturous roads down into High Bentham and the short hop across the fields and meadows into Ingleton.  As we climbed steeply up the Hawes road we were once again plunged into the melee of cyclists, occasionally halted to allow tight knots of them to streak out from a side road or off the fells.  However, it wasn't long before we got to our first stop, and lunch break at the White Scar Caves Cafe.

When we at first arrived, the cafe was chock-a-block with school kids, and we vainly scanned for any spare places - only a sparce few being evident.  However, by the time we'd queued and ordered the cafe seemed miraculously to empty, leaving us the pick of just about any seating we fancied. 

We don't think that Pete was aware that he was in-shot when Clive took a picture of his heavily loaded buttie!

After we'd all had our fill, we were once again out of the cafe and making our way back to the bikes.  To the side of the cafe is a small paddock with a few Shetland Ponies, hens and goats that naturally drew Simon and Pete. 

Although we're not quite sure what elicited this, we have an inkling that it may have been Pete's kid gloves........

Meanwhile, the normal Ferrets were back at the bikes readying for the next section into Dentdale.

The Hawes road darts steadily up the dale like a rollercoaster, straight and very fast, until past the magnificent Ribble Head Viaduct where it then levels off and slings itself into long and lovely curves and bends drawing you on towards Hawes.  However, on this occasion, just a few miles past Ribble Head we put our anchors on so that we could turn off onto a small and unassuming side road that could very easily have been missed.

This road forms a time-machine that weaves its magic slowly and determinedly so that you are pleasantly drawn into a world that time forgot, a place redolent of the 1950s, and so exquisitely beautiful, and twee at the same time, that you are permanently wrapped in wonder.  Every feature, be it stone walls or small churches, Tudor manors or arched bridges, quaint pubs cosseted in their mantles of trees and flowers, speaks of a time before mass travel, of a time when the sound of a motor engine was a rare thing and road improvements still firmly in the pipes of apprentice road planners.

And the pace was certainly gentle, dictated by the refreshing absence of those road improvements that have come elsewhere, the route still hugging the ways of the lanes and tracks that preceded it, and not one of us regretting it, content to slow our own paces as we drifted ever nearer the village of Dent.  By this stage the appearance of stone setts in place of the far too modern tarmac seemed completely natural, albeit lending a little more caution to the riding.  The village of Dent must be the most exquisite in the world, achingly quaint and welcoming.

Perhaps for a later run we'll stop there and soak up it's atmosphere and search out more of its treasures, but for today's run we simply passed through on our way to the mouth of the dale where it opens out to Sedbergh.  This latter section of the dale boasts some road improvement in that vehicles can more safely pass each other, and much of the sharp changes of direction have been gently eased into bends better suited to riding, so the pace was upped allowing the blanket of nostalgia to be gently blown from about our minds easing us back into current times.

Leaving Dentdale behind as we entered Sedbergh and then veering back south, it wasn't long before we were onto the A683 to enjoy the wealth of biking joys that it always delivers as we 'progressed' towards Devil's Bridge.  One of the finest roads for biking, and we had it to ourselves.  Passing the crowd of bikes at the Bridge, we zigzagged across the A65 onto the Wittington road to enjoy its equally wonderful and deserted ways along the back roads to Woodies snack bar at the country park entrance on the River Lune, near Caton.

Time for more snacks and drinks, more banter and jibing, and the usual Ferrets' nonsense in an idyllic wooded setting.

The road through the Trough is usually taken in the opposite direction, so it was almost as a new experience carving our way along its picturesque way on this occasion.  However, the way we took it today was the poorer for our starting on excellent biking roads and finishing on poorer ones.  It was also harder to take in the stupendous views of Morcambe bay and the Lune estuary, the march of the Lakeland mountains and the sweep of the Fylde coast, as they were behind us as we rapidly rose onto the fell above Quernmore and Brow Top, and without a second chance lost altogether as we swept over the pass and down into the embrace of the Trough.

Again, there was little traffic and we had the Trough mostly to ourselves allowing us to settle into a decent pace until our descent took us past Dunsop Bridge and onto Cow Ark where the road drained of its biking pleasures around Bashall Eave, leaving us the few miles into Clitheroe.

It wasn't long before we were through the town and back at our starting point, some five hours since last we were there and immeasurably happier.

The Parting of the Ways

A short run long on pleasures meant that as we pulled into Maccy D'd for yet another time we still had plenty of energy for more gassing and leg pulling, so we spent a little while on our final stop together before splitting up and making our separate ways home.  The day had been very good to us, the route thoroughly enjoyed by all and the company, as always, impeccable.

We just hope that we can find more opportunities before the end of the season despite this not being that far off.

Photographs courtesy of Chimes & Clive

Page Updated

28/09/2009 15:56