Pints Peak – stage one
Wensleydale. Distance: three miles
Formed up on the grid for the inaugural Pints Peak invitational things on the face of it are looking good. Above the Yorkshire market town of Hawes – home to the world famous Wensleydale cheese – early December skies are mercifully blue and sunny. However, ahead of our intrepid field of four stretches 13-ish miles of almost sheer climbs and knee wobbling singletrack descents to the chequered flag at the highest pub in England, the 1732-feet above sea level Tan Hill Inn. But, it isn’t the sun in the sky that occupies pre-flagdrop minds, instead it’s the more pressing matter of under-tyre conditions: an even earlier morning recce had revealed ice and debris – rocks and mud – strewn across sections of the course following flash flooding in the area the day before, the day before. Tanks topped off with fully synthetic and grumbling stomachs silenced by eggs and bacon, toast and tea supplied by official Pints Peak caters the Wensleydale Pantry, the 11.03 start-time is upon us. And with a deft nod of the head from official starter, Mr C. Wood, business begins… First to show is odds-on favourite H.wilson, but within yards of the start moped rookie B.lindley hits the front powered, it seems, mostly by youth and enthusiasm. On the stops out of Hawes it’s a close run thing into the first left and our introduction to post-flood mud hazards, complete with farmer and shovel on clean-up duty. And then the road goes up… First to suffer vertigo is Lindley whose Yamaha QT50 takes an instant dislike to rising elevation, with what looks like a
‘First to show is favourite H.wilson, but within yards moped rookie B.lindley hits the front powered mostly by youth and enthusiasm’
fuelling problem – a post race inquiry suggests sabotage by Wilson. That’s one down. Wilson, distracted by Lindley’s early failure, loses vital momentum and I’m through. That’s two down. Meanwhile, up ahead, Armitage and Rhonda the Honda have capitalized and taken what appears to be a stage winning lead. However. The aforementioned pre-race recce revealed traffic-control road works on the near vertical climb to the end of the stage. My only hope is a red light for Armitage. I round a sharp right-hander, flat-out, and ‘yes’ there he is at the lights which are changing from red to green. I hit the ascent with full momentum while Armitage gracelessly grinds away from the green. Down the five-speed ’box I go, quickly finding myself in first. And still my speed drops. I glance back and he’s gaining. The cattle-grid stage finish is in sight, but there’s nothing for it I have to start paddling. Almost there, almost there. But my all is not enough. Rhonda the Honda sales past and rattles over the cattle grid to take the stage win.