Dust & Grit: Calderdale Riding in a July Heatwave

Calderdale’s been sun-drenched and dusty this July. A heatwave that’s baked the valley’s trails into dry, cracked ribbons. The usual bogs? Gone. The reservoirs? Low and lonely. There’s a hosepipe ban and the rivers are barely whispering, but the riding? Superb.

I’ve been mixing it up all month. Singlespeed for the leg-burn, a rigid geared Van Nic for masochistic fun, and the full suspension for those grin-inducing descents. Riding solo to clear the head, riding with mates to stir the soul. Dry, fast, loose. It’s Calderdale with the volume turned up.

And then… the crash.

One descent, too much speed and boom. Over the bars, straight onto my head. Proper cartoon stuff. My neck took the worst of it, leaving me benched for two weeks. Not ideal. But hey, it’s mountain biking. If you’re not crashing occasionally, are you even trying?

Back on the bike now. Tentative, grateful, and itching for more. The trails are still singing, the sun’s still shining, and despite the knock, I wouldn’t trade this kind of riding for anything.