Way of the Wolds

Sledmere, in the Yorkshire Wolds, is dominated by Sledmere House built for Sir Christopher Sykes in 1751. But what makes the village unique is the associated monuments strewn around the vicinity and these are the features that form the theme of this month's bike ride.

No sooner had I turned right out of Sledmere House car park than I came across the first of them, a pillared dome over the well built by Sir Tatton Sykes in honour of his father, Christopher.

According to the inscription, he had created "One of the most productive and best cultivated districts in the County of York". What a fine gesture to your dad and perfect introduction to the tales that lay ahead.

On leaving the village my eye was caught by Sledmere Castle. A left fork from the road led me along a track up to it.

Designed by notable York architect, John Carr, the castle was originally constructed as a dower house for Sir Christopher's mother, but she chose to stay put at the main house. For the last 100 years or so the building behind the castle faade has been used as a farmhouse.

I rejoined the road by following a track in front of some trees which provided welcome shelter from a veil of rain. As I emerged I saw the top of the next attraction, the most unmissable of them all: the Sir Tatton Sykes Monument.

The bulge in the middle of this 30-metre tower, which spears the sky on Garton Hill, makes it look like a cross between a minaret, a rocket and the CN Tower in Toronto. It was built in honour of Sir Tatton by 600 of his friends and neighbours in 1865. My folly gazeteer describes the tower as "a horrific and utterly compelling monument" later acknowledging that it nevertheless "fulfils the primary function of a monument - that is to draw attention to itself". Indeed it does.

To avoid a section of trunk road I needed to follow a bridleway west from the monument. Thankfully it was open, and better still, the three-mile grassy track was gently downhill making this very much the best way round to ride the route. As I freewheeled and carefully negotiated the ruts, I enjoyed views of Wetwang, partially hidden in trees, and surrounded by all that cultivated land Sir Tatton was describing.

After passing through Fimber, I began the most scenic part of the ride - along the bottom of one of those shallow, V-shaped valleys that characterise the Wolds and beside a disused railway line. To my left, I looked up at an almost vertical valley side and then, around the corner, saw poppies scattered over a hill.

"This is nice", I thought to myself as I approached Burdale - and promptly saw a sign announcing a 16% hill. So I did what I always do when faced with midday adversity: had lunch.

High up, and overlooking a pond, the spot I chose was as tranquil and remote as a Lakeland tarn. Silent spots of soft rain springing rings in the water.

If you have sufficient time I recommend a trip to the nearby deserted medieval village of Wharram Percy. I though, sped on through Wharram le Street and Duggleby, and then swooped my way down through Kirby Grindalythe. I sheltered from another shower in a handily located clump of trees just outside Sledmere and then completed my descent into the village.

Two more monuments there complete the set. An ornate cross that was converted into a war memorial and my favourite of all, the Waggoners' Memorial. The Waggoners were a corps of drivers raised by Sir Tatton's grandson from farms of the Yorkshire Wolds in 1912. The panels show scenes illustrating the Wagonners first as civilians working on the farms, then being called up, taken by ship to France and sent to the front line. The German government was so offended by the atrocities depicted they asked for the monument to be removed but their request was not successful.

In the Sledmere House tea rooms I overheard a conversation between two lithe and colourfully clad cyclists, the sort that make me feel so unambitious.

"So. Reckon you'll make the 40 miles back, then?", one asked the other. "We could go back through Thixendale".

I thought of them, my windscreen wipers working overtime, as I plunged down Garrowby Hill.

Distance: 19 miles.

Time: 2 hours, excluding stops.

Click here to view a map of the ride