Our planned route from here took us along ridges back South, across heath and moor, on singletrack up to Waun Fach at 809m. This landscape is rugged and unforgiving, and in the gusts of up to 80kph (!) it was even more rugged and unforgiving than usual! The wind attacked us first from the side, which was almost comedic for about 10 seconds before you realise you will have to spend the entire ride with your bars pointing 15º right in order to go straight forwards, or more likely push with the bike heeled way over to one side. Our framebags turned into massive sails, the bikes riding up and bucking against our feeble grip as hands went cold and white.
By the time we reached rideable sections, the sensation was something else! Sat down on the saddle and pedalling hard, the whole bike would slide effortlessly to the left, so much so that picking a line was almost impossible. I instantly wished me and my bike weighed 5 times more, definitely the first time I’ve felt so! No amount of corrective steering or confidence could help this. The wind grew ever stronger the higher we got, and by the top we had had the indignity of having to push not only up but also down and along the flat!
Waun Fach summit was unremarkable, but our Westwards turn was significant, as it now meant the stonking wind would now be in our faces rather than to our sides. And that was cause for rejoicing! We stormed downwards ready to unleash the anger of barely riding for the last 4 hours, over lovely natural downhill tracks and slippy off-piste sections where the quadbikes had come up to herd sheep.
A few very hairy turns and extremely steep rocky runins - bikes with droppers only - led us to a saddle at 600m, from where an inconceivably rideable and quick grass track channeled all the way down, out of the worst of the wind, to the valley and forest road below. Having thought that yesterday’s descent was the best I’ve ever ridden, I was wrong - this was the best. Despite losing my Garmin someway down in the merriment, I would have gladly pushed all the way back up this to ride it again. The sound of my freehub screeching higher and higher, seeing the others hot on my tail and then by my side on the doubletrack, fully out of the saddle with the suspension going bonkers trying to keep all the stuff strapped to my bike level - it doesn’t get better than this. And below a few easy roads led to Crickhowell again, as we cut out some chunky climbs on the route to save time, and headed for the book cafe to refuel.
From Crickhowell we elected to climb up through Llangattock and onto the heath above, deviating from the plan to get back before dark. A 500m climb doesn’t sound so bad, but in 5km of busy B-road, into the wind, when you are knackered from pushing all day and lots of yesterday, on a MTB loaded with camping gear, it really is. A hell of a lot of huffing and puffing was required to get us back up to the top. I’d really rather not do this again but there isn’t any other way to get there, really! Followed by a whizzy descent to the NCN path that carried us very drearily back to Merthyr. By the time we reached the outskirts of the city the headwind had worn my patients nearly to bits, despite endless snacks being offered by my companions I was close to losing it. Thank god for a final descent into town, the takeaway pizza shop, and the heat of A’s lovely van.
A big thanks to my three companions for not mutinying even in the bonkers conditions we faced, and always having something good or funny to say. I hope to ride with you guys in the future, maybe with the wind behind us next time.
Finally, if you are contemplating this ride - go during the week when the bothy is less crowded, and only go when the weather is great. Us coming via train, booked far in advance, made both of these things impossible!
But do go and do it. It is challenging and beautiful and wild and, as long MTB routes go, a lot of this is breaking new ground.
New trips coming soon. All welcome, and they won’t be this hard or mad. B
Our planned route from here took us along ridges back South, across heath and moor, on singletrack up to Waun Fach at 809m. This landscape is rugged and unforgiving, and in the gusts of up to 80kph (!) it was even more rugged and unforgiving than usual! The wind attacked us first from the side, which was almost comedic for about 10 seconds before you realise you will have to spend the entire ride with your bars pointing 15º right in order to go straight forwards, or more likely push with the bike heeled way over to one side. Our framebags turned into massive sails, the bikes riding up and bucking against our feeble grip as hands went cold and white.
By the time we reached rideable sections, the sensation was something else! Sat down on the saddle and pedalling hard, the whole bike would slide effortlessly to the left, so much so that picking a line was almost impossible. I instantly wished me and my bike weighed 5 times more, definitely the first time I’ve felt so! No amount of corrective steering or confidence could help this. The wind grew ever stronger the higher we got, and by the top we had had the indignity of having to push not only up but also down and along the flat!
Waun Fach summit was unremarkable, but our Westwards turn was significant, as it now meant the stonking wind would now be in our faces rather than to our sides. And that was cause for rejoicing! We stormed downwards ready to unleash the anger of barely riding for the last 4 hours, over lovely natural downhill tracks and slippy off-piste sections where the quadbikes had come up to herd sheep.
A few very hairy turns and extremely steep rocky runins - bikes with droppers only - led us to a saddle at 600m, from where an inconceivably rideable and quick grass track channeled all the way down, out of the worst of the wind, to the valley and forest road below. Having thought that yesterday’s descent was the best I’ve ever ridden, I was wrong - this was the best. Despite losing my Garmin someway down in the merriment, I would have gladly pushed all the way back up this to ride it again. The sound of my freehub screeching higher and higher, seeing the others hot on my tail and then by my side on the doubletrack, fully out of the saddle with the suspension going bonkers trying to keep all the stuff strapped to my bike level - it doesn’t get better than this. And below a few easy roads led to Crickhowell again, as we cut out some chunky climbs on the route to save time, and headed for the book cafe to refuel.
From Crickhowell we elected to climb up through Llangattock and onto the heath above, deviating from the plan to get back before dark. A 500m climb doesn’t sound so bad, but in 5km of busy B-road, into the wind, when you are knackered from pushing all day and lots of yesterday, on a MTB loaded with camping gear, it really is. A hell of a lot of huffing and puffing was required to get us back up to the top. I’d really rather not do this again but there isn’t any other way to get there, really! Followed by a whizzy descent to the NCN path that carried us very drearily back to Merthyr. By the time we reached the outskirts of the city the headwind had worn my patients nearly to bits, despite endless snacks being offered by my companions I was close to losing it. Thank god for a final descent into town, the takeaway pizza shop, and the heat of A’s lovely van.
A big thanks to my three companions for not mutinying even in the bonkers conditions we faced, and always having something good or funny to say. I hope to ride with you guys in the future, maybe with the wind behind us next time.
Finally, if you are contemplating this ride - go during the week when the bothy is less crowded, and only go when the weather is great. Us coming via train, booked far in advance, made both of these things impossible!
But do go and do it. It is challenging and beautiful and wild and, as long MTB routes go, a lot of this is breaking new ground.
New trips coming soon. All welcome, and they won’t be this hard or mad. B