One Sunday recently saw us seeking out more miles of traffic free
cycling. Despite being sparsely populated, North Cumbria is actually a little
light on options for learner cyclists. The South Tyne Trail – Slaggyford to Haltwhistle
– has some great sections. It mostly follows the line of the Alston branch
railway (trains still ran until the beginning of the hot summer of 1976) but if
I was being picky I would say there were too many gates. The access to the
stupendous Lambley Viaduct is seriously marred by the imposition of a private
garden across the southern approach. The old Lambley station and platform have
been fenced off, requiring you to deviate from the line either up the hill into
Lambley village, or down the narrow, stepped path almost the River South Tyne,
and then back up the embankment. The line scores high though on parking and
access – on the Haltwhistle side of the viaduct there’s loads, and at
Slaggyford you can park near the village green if there’s no space at the old
station.
The good cycling here is all in Northumberland – a shame for
those of us who want to sing the praises of our own patch of the north, so on
Sunday we stayed in Cumbria to try out the Dalston to Carlisle cycle route.
This is proper rurban fringe stuff. At times you could think you were in
Hertfordshire, or on the edge of any other conurbation. Beginning in the
residential outpost of Bridge End (there’s not really enough to call it
suburban, but there are pavements and street lights and bungalows and semis),
we overcame the opaque signposting with some timely map reading (for those of
us at the front), or some questioning of random strangers (those at the back) –
an impressive feat of division in a party of three.
Clinging to the Caldew
The route clings pretty much to the River Caldew, first
through the mill yard of Cowen’s (‘experts in safety, health and environment’).
Ironically, here we had our only mishap, little D discovering that sometimes
you have to really concentrate on your line to wedge between a fencepost and a
wall. But soon you’re back over the river and running the gauntlet of moving
cars in the centre of Dalston village, before squeezing down a snicket by the
school to make the cycle path proper. Again, for learner cyclists just
discovering how to control their handlebars, this section proves challenging,
and the road section is terrifying for any parent with a dim recollection of
1970s public information films. (Shouldn’t they just have said ‘look out you
bastard!’?:
From a cycling point of view, what comes next is an easy and
at times almost pleasant romp, right into the centre of the city. The route
finding is easy, the gradient barely testing any of your lower gears, but with
plenty of opportunity to brake, steer and avoid dogs - three of the very basic
skills for learners. We did encounter the inevitable dodgy, edge of the city,
towpath type characters, seemingly conjured up to continue the PIL theme.
Charley says ‘that bloke in the red car with the air rifle and the long hair
probably can’t be trusted to actually own any puppies’. But Cumbria is a quiet
county, and on my return journey (at speed) to fetch the car, I encountered two
of Cumbria Constabulary’s finest investigating for possible badness.
Bitts Park Pay off
Sadly, at the end of the route, at the moment, you are
splurged out into a car park just off Castle Way. You have to figure out a safe
route to Bitts Park yourselves (NB you can’t really get three bikes and their
riders in the lift to the Millennium Bridge). But the options are fairly clear,
and the reward is still one of the county’s better play areas, though it’s
interesting to note how your child’s interest in such things may have waned
since they discovered the joys of speeding along independently at 15mph.
