Sleddale Swindale MTB Mountain Bike Adventure

For a couple of years I'd been eyeing up the old quarry track from Sleddale over the fell to Mosedale and wondering about an off road ride that I could turn into a full circuit by cutting down into Swindale. We've stopped at the same Cumbrian cottage at Newby, 5 miles from Shap, for the past 3 years over Xmas, and  the cold conditions we had this last Xmas meant a good adventure was there to be had!

The temperatures were well below freezing when my two companions and I set off. The lane from the cottage up to the A6 at Shap had been salted and had improved since we arrived a couple of days before. We made good progress through Shap before turning onto the lane leading to Sleddale.

Soon, there was no evidence of the tarmac surface beneath our tyres but despite the hard ice we were still maintaining both good traction and progress. After Green Farm, a gate led us onto the open fell side and our track continued along and above Sleddale Reservoir.

The track steepened and finding a line to take whilst still remaining upright became continually harder. The snow had drifted onto the track itself and riding on it's verges became the best option. Soon we reached the mountain wall, dividing the farm land from the wilder areas and by now we were rather hungry. Being at a higher altitude, the wind was whipping around us and we hunkered down behind the stone wall to get some food inside us. We all agreed that somehow the cheese and ham sandwiches tasted even more delicious in the wintry conditions!

Our next target was the summit of Hare Shaw, not a high fell top, but given the rising wind that was making it very difficult to hear each other speak and coupled with a fresh heavy snow storm it was an inhospitable place to be sure.

We left the bikes beside the now faintly visible track and made our way to the fell top. It was not far but deep drifts meant that had to wade through powder snow before reaching the summit cairn. The wind was so strong that on returning to the bikes our footsteps had been filled in and obliterated.

Continuing on two wheels was no longer an option. However, seeing as we had reached the watershed it made sense to continue down into Mosedale. The light had become murky, but as we were now on the leeward side of the fell we could concentrate on traversing the terrain with somewhat better visibility.

The bikes had to be pushed, tugged, lifted and carried. We worked out that the best technique was to push the saddle rather than the handlebars which had the effect of sinking the front wheel into the snow. Care had to be taken to avoid falling into streams hidden under drifted snow whilst steep sided gulley's loomed up out of the gloom and had to be crossed.

It was an adventure that pulled and tugged at our limbs and joints and required a number of rests in order to get a second wind. Eventually we reached Mosedale Beck's icy waters flowing down the valley and the next barrier to our progress. Thick ice had formed inwards from it's banks and more of the same covered the boulders that would have at other times have made suitable stepping stones. There was little else for it other than to just "go for it" and get across. It was an inelegant but effective crossing, even if some of the freezing water did find it's way inside one's boots.

With the river crossing behind us, the final descent off the fell down into Mosedale was ahead. Steep slopes led down past Nabs Crag and Force's [water] Falls and eventually we reached the track to Swindale Head. After stopping to admire the stunning glacially formed rocky bowl, attendant moraines and erratic boulders, we set off to the tarmac lane that leads out of Mosedale to Rosgill. There had been no gritting here and the lane was covered with a good two inches of solid ice for it's full three mile length. Despite this, riding along seemed easy in comparison to what we had been doing an hour before.

Swindale, monochromatic and moody in the waining winter's afternoon light was a delight to cycle along. Farmhouse chimneys smoked, windows glowed with yellow light and the promise of cosy rooms, sheep dogs barked fervently at us as we passed. Sheep busied themselves trying the scrape holes in the snowy ground in order to find some grass and robins flitted onto the stone walls as if begging for some stray scraps from passing travellers. It was a proper Christmas scene.

We climbed the long 1 in 8 hill out of Rosgill then took a bridle track directly across open fields to the A6 north of Shap. With empty stomachs, tiredness, red faces and a final battle of a three mile stretch of headwind we made our way back to the cottage, hot chocolate and food. It had been a good day that left me wondering how it could take four and a half hours to bike just 23 miles!