Frosty hollows

The climate in the UK is much milder than might simply be predicted from its latitude. Most places this far north are an awful lot colder. Of course, we owe this to the effects of the Gulf Stream, a current of warm water that arises in the Gulf of Mexico and then crosses the Atlantic bringing additional heat, and a whole load of moist air, along with it. This also affects the pattern of weather within the UK which splits roughly four ways with temperature decreasing as you go north and rainfall decreasing as you go east.

If, like us, you live by the sea, then the weather on the coast is often quite different from that inland. In particular, in the winter time, it often gets noticeably colder as you go inland and lose the protective effects of a relatively warm sea.

Last week I set out on an early morning bike ride with friends from the local bike club. Not a hefty training ride, just a couple of hours at a modest pace out into the surrounding countryside with a few chats along the way. It also happened to be my 61st birthday but I hadn't told anyone else in the group. 

Last year, on my 60th, I'd ended up doing a total of 60 miles. This year I'd set the more modest, and unannounced, target of 61 km. This ride was just going to be the start. 

November has been unusually mild this year and we set off inland with little thought of how conditions might change. I suppose that I should have been warned by the very thin ice I'd spotted in puddles near the bridge over the Scalby Cut at Mowthorpe (thanks to the internet anyone reading this can find out where this is) but we carried on through Hackness and up into Troutsdale. 

Looking down Troutsdale from the West

To get into the Dale itself there's a brief descent into Langdale and a crossing of the River Derwent. At this point the small group in front of me slowed a little and, not wanting to catch up too quickly, I briefly touched my brakes. It turned out that the road that I'd simply thought was damp was in fact covered with black ice, my front wheel went from under me, I landed heavily on my hip and elbow and found myself under the bike with a club mate sprawled alongside. He'd see me drop, made an evasive manoeuvre and been caught out by the same ice.

End result, a two for one ambulance ride into the local hospital. He'd broken his collar bone and left hospital the same day. I'd broken the head of my femur and escaped two days later, on crutches with a plate on the outside of the bone and a screw making sure that the two sides of the fracture stay put. (see the diagram for an intertrochanteric repair). I'll be on crutches for 3/4 weeks and it's strongly suggested that I don't ride a bike for 6. 

Lessons to be learned. 

1) Remember that cold air is denser than warm air and that valley bottoms can be frost pockets. In these sort of conditions assume that what merely looks damp is in fact ice

2) Live somewhere where the health service responds quickly, efficiently with care, compassion, no sense of blame and nobody ever mentions of how much it's all going to cost.

3) If in doubt stick to the coast.