Four Days in the Forest of Trawden
by John Hiller
A thoroughly enjoyable, yet exhausting, four day ride started off from Brian Parkinson's house on April 12th. Four of us turned out for the ride and after we all finished introducing ourselves, Brian, Ken, Anne, and myself set off up the A666 at just before 10am; the sun was out and the weather was fine.
After less than a mile we left the road behind and climbed off-road to the village of Entwistle. Descending again down Edge Lane, we picked up a dirt track which petered out onto a single-track as we circumnavigated the gun ranges on Holcombe Moor. When we hit civilisation again we found ourselves in Ramsbottom whereby we freewheeled down the rake; this being the location of the Lancashire Road Club's annual time trial. With an average gradient of 1 in 9, and 1 in 4 at the top, this is the only road I've ever seen that has handrails fitted for pedestrians. It was here where I noticed how bad my brake blocks were; a daft oversight on my part.
The next town over was Rawtenstall. Unfortunately the Railway Station Café was closed so we all piled into Tesco's for something to eat. A much needed rest-stop it was, as a long climb over Deerplay Moor was ahead. After lunch we headed up and over into the Towneley Valley, and into Towneley Park for a second lunch if you will. The Café at Towneley Park is bespoke, and it is here where we met up with Roy, a fit and enthusiastic RSF member.
After sugary coffee and more food, we made a beeline for Roy's house, for more drink, and more food; before that though, we stopped off at the Co-op for supplies for the night. We left Roy at his house and it was only a short hop now to get to the Camping Barn at Trawden, but it was all up-hill. We arrived at the Camping Barn at Trawden at just before five, in order to get to it we had to cross a field in which a bull had been put out to stud. For the next couple of days, we crossed the field with trepidation.
The camping barn at Trawden is an old converted barn about a mile from Trawden Village. There is a sleeping gallery upstairs on a veranda, downstairs is a seating area with a multi-fuel stove; a rather cosy arrangement; it even had a TV, and at eight pounds a night, it's definitely cheaper than living in your own house!
As is mandatory on any multiday ride, we watched The Simpsons at six on Channel Four. After we had all eaten, there was nothing much else to do but sit around the fire and put the world to rights. At 10pm we all turned in. As the soon as the lights go out, this is where a race began to try and get to sleep, as soon as the first person's starts snoring, that knocks half an hour onto your flaking-out time. Whisky helps.
As the sun came up the next day, we expected a downpour as had been predicted the night before, but nothing, the weather was fine again, maybe providence was on our side. Today's ride though, was extremely tough, and I for one was on the wrong bike. The five of us left the Camping Barn rather late as we had to wait for someone who didn't show. The ride on Wednesday was similar to the Thursday ride, only somewhat longer and with more hills incorporated, but was good practice for the Thursday ride; good lines were committed to memory. It was at the end of the Steeple Stones, on Dove Stones Moor, near the new bridge where I had to drop my bike. It wasn't a fall; it was a graceful dismount.
When we hit a road again, it was a short and smooth ride down Two Laws Road past the Watersheddles reservoir on the right down to Scar Top Pine Shop where we pulled in for elevenses. As Ken was admiring the open fire inside, the fire alarm promptly went off. Further enquiries and we learnt that the chimney was on fire, as they got to work putting the fire out, we sat upstairs in the smoke filled café having our breakfasts, the topic of conversation here was what people bother to iron or don't iron; riveting stuff.
A little further on after yet another climb, albeit on-road, we rendezvoused with three more chaps from the Fellowship. The Apothecary Café in Haworth was the venue for the lunch stop. As soon as lunch was over we all travailed the severe cobbled descent down and out of Haworth, only to climb back out of the valley a few miles later on up the aptly titled Stairs Hill. This was one of those hills that entailed no shame in getting off your bike and walking; as indeed we all did, it was a bit like going UP the rake in Ramsbottom only steeper, longer, and off-road.
When we got to Shackleton Moor we decided that in order to get back in time for “The Simpsons” we needed make a beeline for base. So that's what we did, we picked up a bridleway that Brian remembered walking some twenty years ago; the path went up-and-over rather than around, which is just what we wanted. At this point I think all of our energy levels were beginning to lessen; I was knackered – every turn of the pedals was a chore, I kept checking my tyres to see if I had a flat and at this point my ailing brake shoes were becoming a real worry. I had to do something if we were going to this all over again tomorrow.
On the final push up the pass past the reservoirs we stopped again. Ken dished out the Digestive biscuits to everyone which helped slow the passing-out process somewhat. Anne dished out a few spare bananas. When we reached the top of the pass we could see the barn at Trawden, we could also see the deep valley that separated us from it! By now I was in the “let's get it over with” frame of mind.
Downhill we freewheeled, and then uphill we didn't. The climb here was severe, no-doubt the day's steepest, I could tell due to the front wheel of my bike refusing to steer in a straight line; this was the tarmac road than paralleled the bridleway climb through the woods; now I've done both, I'm not sure which is worse! Brian pulled in to a cafe to see if was open in the morning, then we tackled the last big climb up to Clarion House whereby we made a right turn at the crossroads, the sanctuary of the camping barn was just ahead.
We got back just in time to flake-out in front of the TV, guess what we watched? After that, and while it was still daylight, I got my spoke key out and got to truing. In the meantime, a recurring conversation of the day was coming to a head – what were we going to do for evening meal. All I had brought was noodles and was getting sick of them by now. Brian doesn't actually eat anything, but Anne wanted some real ale.
We decided to find a chippery in Colne, Mike drove us there in his works van, a saviour in my book. When we got back, Anne had lit the fire again, we settled down for fish and chips, Guinness, WKD, Newcastle Brown Ale, and Whisky. I attempted to watch an episode of Emmerdale but couldn't stomach it for long.
In the morning we set off earlier to meet the RSF members at the Wycoller car park. Thanks to Brian's foresight in carrying spare parts, a new pair of brake-blocks were acquired and fitted before the ride on Thursday.
On the way down, Brian wanted to check another café's opening times, and this is where Anne ran into the back of me and fell over; thankfully she was all right! The turn-out for the Thursday ride was excellent; I counted eighteen, but in order not to step on Brian's toes I'll refer you to his report of the Thursday bike ride. I did feel somewhat exposed when I noticed that only Ken and myself had drop-bars, everybody else was on mountain-bikes. Anne returned home on Thursday morning, and Mike decided to drive from the camping barn to the start of the ride; I can't say I wouldn't have done the same.
That evening, it was just Brian, Ken, and myself. This time Ken was on fire duty and the evening was more-or-less wasted by trying to sample the enthralling plotlines of the Simpsons, Emmerdale, Eastenders, and then Emmerdale again.
In the morning we were invited back to Roy's fine house for coffee and toast; we arrived there at just about 9.15am. The route back wasn't quite an exact reversal of the way to Trawden but we stopped in all the same places for refreshments with the addition of Turton Tower last thing. Towneley Park Café for a full English, and Tesco's in Rawtenstall again for Red Bulls and Cream Eggs. As we pulled into Turton Tower for a final cup of coffee we were informed by Ken that we had just passed the 100 mile mark: The hardest 100 miles I've ever done.
Once again, many thanks to Brian for his leadership and local knowledge of the labyrinthine trails and bridleways that criss-cross this wide area. Kudos to Anne, Ken, Mike, and myself for doing the ride in the first place; hope to see you all again another time for another marathon bike-ride; top class company.