Gritstone Ballet

I heard a strange squeaking sound as I reached the Hangingstone pines. My very first thought was that it might be an animal squealing in pain, but I immediately knew that wasn't right. As I went to investigate I caught sight of some bikers messing about on the boulders at the edge of the Cow and Calf quarry. It turned out they were stunt bikers, training and playing around. I was hearing the sound of their brakes.

If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn't have believed it was possible to ride a bike around this ridiculous terrain. Their level of skill and total self-belief was extraordinary to witness. I likened it to ballet on wheels and Jack (on the right) agreed that was a pretty fair description. Eemeli (on the left) is only eighteen and has come to England to train for three months because it's now too cold and icy in his native Finland. He must already be well on his way to collecting that fabled ten-thousand hours of muscle memory. Jack certainly has.

It was a very cold day here. I had to stop taking photographs after a short while because my fingers died. The problem gets worse every year. I would have loved to have taken more time to better capture the cyclic choreography of their gritstone ballet. It was mesmerising.