BB200, the 2018 wet edition

Great things are done when men and mountains meet.

This is not done by jostling in the street.

William Blake

The last time I'd been at this stream it was fast flowing but clear and I'd almost managed to ride across it. Today it was a dirty brown roaring maelstrom. It didn't look good.

Two years ago I did my first BB200 gaining one of the coveted black badges. There must have been something about that year as over a third of the entrants also got a black badge. Rumours spread that that course was "easy". With the course being different each year it's hard to compare them but the 2014 route has a mythical status: apparently the riders didn't speak to Stu on their return to Llanbrynmair and there's lots of dark mutterings in to cups of coffee when it's mentioned.

"The bridge at 20km has gone. Use your own judgement on how to get round or across that stream." With that advice, I was away. The stream looked like one of those African rivers in the rainy season, a red-brown soup, surface features flitting past in the current. I knew that there were no tributaries joining it between here and the ford and also that I wasn't going to be crossing it. Farm and forestry tracks rejoined the route further upstream, they would do.

In truth none of the BB200 routes are "easy", they aren't meant to be, but the conditions on the day can make them much harder. The short daylight hours of October just add to this. There's no "winning" or "losing" but scratching is a hard choice. Making decisions in such conditions as we experienced on Saturday can have serious consequences.

In these days of 250km+ per day multi-day rides a mere 200km might not seem much to shout about but they are tough kilometres. Even the easy grassy bits you have to keep concentrating as a lot of the surface is a layer of wet soil and grass that has little resistance to pedalling and you can easily find yourself sideways to your original line of motion.

It's taken nearly seven hours to do the first 60km to reach the filling station/shop in Ponterwyd. There's a group of riders there refuelling. A cup of coffee, a sandwich and replenish supplies and I'm on my way in ten minutes or so. No point in standing around getting cold, it's another 50km to the next potential stop in Llangurig so time to crack on.

I'd not done the next section around the two bothies before so I don't really know what to expect. In the event there was another stream crossing, quite a bit deeper this one, and what would turn out to be the biggest hike-a-bike of the route. A bit of cramp at the top of this just as I get hit by a gust of wind. Fortunately it's downhill for a while and I work it off. Some stream enabled bridleways to the second bothy then I'm on familiar territory but the Broken Road is tricky in the wind.

It's also hard on kit. Given the number of GPS and light failures I think it's reasonable to say that manufacturers don't employ the 24hr spin cycle on their nearest industrial washing machine when testing their products. There was much discussion beforehand about the best way of keeping your feet dry with lots of "systems" being bandied about. It's probably safe to say that by the first thigh deep river crossing none of them were still working if indeed they ever had.

The road to the head of the Elan Valley is eased by what is now a tail gale. Darkness falls along here so lights on and finding the next bridleway is tricky. The "problem" is solved by blasting downhill through tussocks until I find the track. I'd thought when looking at the map that this was mainly downhill so I'm confused as to why there are three lights on the hillside above me. Then I work my way back on to the GPX line and it becomes clear: the downhill has a large bit of uphill in it. I've no idea of the time when I get to the road so it's just press on.

It's 2030 and I've made the pub in time for something to eat. "We've just turned the fryers off. We've had no-one in all night." "Soup?" "Can do that for you." There won't be anywhere else open until I get to the finish. Twelve hours to here. They've felt like hard won miles. Another couple of riders arrive seeking shelter from the storm. I'm there for thirty minutes. Things are calming down when I head out, in fact for a while there's stars in the sky.

A good mental attitude will get you a long way on the BB200. Enjoying your own company helps since in the latter parts of the route you will likely be on your own. Equally true is that you can spend a large part of the route with other riders. These tend to be chatty affairs given the likelihood of some rather large personal space in the not too distant future.

The track is doing the best approximation of a river that it can when my front wheel drops into a muddy pool and hits a hidden sloping rock and I'm eating rock. No damage done. Except for the flapper on the end of a finger. Blood drips down washed away by the rain. It takes an hour or so for the flow to stop. A second fall ten hours later bangs my knee which is still sore a day later. Oh, there's more blood.
 Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. My front wheel is making an odd but regular noise. I stop and check the brake rotor for debris but there's nothing obvious. Another spin of the wheel. Tap. Tap. Tap. Hmm. Then I notice the stick across the top of the tyre. I pull at it. It's attached to a thorn. There's a quick hiss and the sealant does its job. (I find another thorn once I get home) There's been a lot of hedge cutting and I've been lucky to get this far.

The BB200 is a curious beast, some call it an ITT, some a challenge. It can be both but at times it's as much an exploration of your psyche with the clinician's couch substituted by the mountains of Mid-Wales. A game of open air chess with a myriad conflicting aims and decisions: can you make it round? Have I enough food with me? Do I have time to get to the next shop? Do I stop at the cafe and cool down or push on?

2am and I'm sat under the market hall in Llanidloes. A couple walk past, they're the first people I've seen in three hours since I left the last couple of riders near Bwlch y Sarnau. I'm not sure that my light has enough juice to see me to the end so I've decided to sit a while and grab a bite whilst it's getting some charge. After fifteen minutes I'm starting to get cold so it's time to pack up and get moving again.

I'm trying hard to ignore the clunking noise from my left pedal (I think) hopefully that will fix it. I've ignored the creaking chain for a good seven hours now and that still works so the tactic seems a good one.

I do a bit of faffing about in Hafren Forest and one of the riders I pulled away from at Bwlch y Sarnau catches me up and we will ride to the finish together. One big climb through the forest then it's mostly downhill and a few small bumps to deal with. As we approach the last bridleway I can feel cramp coming on so we walk the last climb. With over twenty hours of riding done we are tired so the descent is steady then it's just 20 minutes of road and we pull in to the community centre car park. It's 0618, the first light of the new day is just visible.

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So how did it compare to two years previously? In 2016 for the 205km I had a total time of 19hrs1min with 16hrs35mins riding. This year for 202km I had a total time of 21hrs20mins with a riding time of 19hrs35mins.

The Strava bit:


Two years ago 25+ riders, over a third of the field, went home with a black badge. This year there were just seven. Definitely harder, not a repeat of 2014, people even spoke to Stu afterwards, but hard.

Cath arrived back at the centre 29hrs30mins after setting off having ridden through without a bivy. Tough lass! She didn't look anywhere near as tired as two years ago.

"That" stream? My companion crosses it bike on shoulder so it's doable. My turn. The water comes to the top of my thighs and I'm struggling for purchase on the boulders then I'm over to the far bank. We wait for the rest of our loose group and help them across.

Of course on the drive home it was nice and sunny and I needed the sunglasses that I'd left at home by the back door.

This black badge was hard won.

The Welsh Ride Thing

A bikepacking institution. The first bank holiday weekend in May sees a gaggle(? what's the collective noun for bikepackers?) of assorted shapes and sizes descend on a small farm in mid-Wales not for a rave but to have a chat about bikes and maybe ride them around the Welsh countryside aided or hindered by a set of grid references that people may or may not chose to visit. This year there was a set for mountain bikes and a set for "gravel" bikes.

This was its tenth year.

We'd never been.

Pubs

The Star at Dylife is becoming another institution, it reopened a couple of years ago and a pre-event meet up has started to become a "thing". Again, we'd never been. Cath was insistent that we didn't go in until 7pm but I overruled her and we had a meal before most people arrived and the chatting and drinking began. We didn't have too much to drink and crashed out in the tent at a sadly sensible middle-aged hour.

Despite having driven past it many times I'd never been in to The Cross Foxes above Dolgellau. Very posh. There were quite a few other BBers sat outside having a drink. Two drinks and two packets of crisps, that'll be ten pounds please sir. Hmm, come to think of it, it felt quite good to be standing there covered in sheep and cow muck adding to the general ambience for the benefit of the G&T swilling Jaguar driving crowd.

Oh, yeah. That's The Hand, you know the one with the massive carved tree trunk outside just in case you can't read. We went to the other one. Two pints of lager shandy and a couple of packets of crisps please. that'll be ten pounds please sir. Still we'd ridden over the Berwyns via the Wayfarers then down to Llanarmon Dyffryn Ceiriog. And it was hot. We decided on a second pint each but in an attempt to look after our waistlines and save money skipped the crisps.

Navigation

One thing you soon learn about Mid-Wales is that there's a disconnect between bridleways and tracks on the ground, it's as if they are from separate realities. Be especially aware of those lines on the map that look suspiciously straight. Wales doesn't do straight lines, not even the bits the Romans did for us, it's where they sent Slartibartfast's cousin to try and get the crinkly bits out of his system. Basically unless you've been on a particular stretch of bridleway/track you can't guarantee it will exist.

We spend/waste half an hour in Dyfi forest trying to find a non-existent bridleway. Actually the first two sections existed on the ground in roughly the right place, one bit being used by one of the Mach MTB trails, the last section was nowhere to be found. We ended up following a track out of the forest and going cross country to join up with where we should have been.

You might also find "identical" features parallel to those you are expecting: BW gate at bend in woodland fence for example, then force the rest of what's around you to fit. The problem here is that it will shortly put you smack bang in the middle of an hour's hike a bike and a marital screaming match discussion. In this instance not only did the parallel universe bridleway not exist but neither did the one in our own universe that we were meant to be on.

Kit and its malfunctions

With 150 riders (and bikes) there's a lot of potential for things to go wrong though turning up and asking if anyone has a spare chainring ... One of the "interesting" parts of the pre-ride milling about is the "weigh-in": bike and all your kit, food, rucksack, etc. goes on the scales. The weights ranged from a mighty 50kg or thereabouts down to a very impressive 14kg (my bike was 18kg so nowhere near the weight weenie prize of a pork pie)

On the way to Bala we come across a chap with his bike upside down and fixing a puncture. "Just went bang! and deflated."" A definite big hole in the inner tube that's lying on the deck. As he's inflating the replacement he notices a tear in the side wall of the tyre next to the rim - the cause apparent of the blowout. We offer various suggestions when I remember that I've an expedition sewing kit in my bag. I bought this in the mid 1980s and had never used it in all that time, I'd just thought I'd shove it in. Looking through the items there was some nylon thread so handed over a needle and some of that and he proceeded to stitch the tyre together. He managed to get to Bala where the bike shop eventually opened and he purchased a new tyre. Passing on the trail karma from the Dirty Reiver the other week.

At the cafe in Bala another rider, Craig, arrived with a rough bottom bracket. I'm not sure how he sorted that out - if indeed he did.

We'd just done an hour's hike-a-bike having lost the non-existent bridleway (see marital "discussion" above) when we rerouted from the next bit of non-existent bridleway and through a wind farm to get to the road. The rider ahead wasn't moving quickly, or at all as it happened. Broken saddle rail. I think he did a lot of standing up on the way back to the finish.

Forests

There's loads of 'em. I fekking hate 'em!

Bivvies

Being out for three days means two nights of sleeping under the stars. Route planning helps here as you want a variety of options depending on how fast you move and  on weather conditions. You don't want to get to your chosen spot too early in case someone sees you and asks questions but equally you don't want to be too late which makes setting up the tarp harder.

Saturday night we found a grand grassy balcony overlooking the Wnion valley with a temperature inversion filling the valley beneath us with mist. Our bivy bags have very slippery bases so finding somewhere flat is almost essential otherwise you end up somewhere you don't want to be! The mist did come in through the night but had gone by morning but there was huge amounts of condensation, the tarps were as wet as if it had been pouring down all night.

Sunday night was on the "shores" of Lake Vyrnwy, we'd been told of there being lots of bivy spots along the lake but they must be on the east shore whereas we went along the west shore so that we'd get the early morning sun. The main problem was that everything was at an angle of 45 degrees! By the time we found somewhere we'd ridden most of the way to the end of the lake. A bit of fussing and we ended up using the trunk of a fallen tree to stop us sliding down the slope! The second night couldn't have been more different to the first as everything was bone dry and just packed away.

Cafes

Our route didn't really pass any on the first day but an executive decision, i.e. we were hungry, took us in to Bala on Sunday morning for breakfast. The cafe didn't really do cooked stuff, well apart from bacon pancakes???

Monday morning we rolled along the road by Lake Vyrnwy to find a gaggle (still no collective noun for bikepackers) by a cafe near the dam. It wasn't serving food but the woman was filling water bottles which given the heat was welcome.

Over a couple or three hills and we rolled into Llangadfan. I spied a flag advertising ice cream but instead found a cafe. The owner must have wondered what had happened as about fifteen sweaty, grubby cyclists arrived in close order! Nice food though.

Oh and Cath got a Strava QOM on one climb, I think she's been doing some secret training. That's her going for it!

Trans Cambrian ITT

It's getting late though I daren't check. The wind and rain are becoming a bit of a problem. The track becomes tarmac and the general gradient is now down, sometimes steeply down. Hang a right and I'm getting tired and beginning to make mistakes, I need to find somewhere to kip and there don't seem to be that many options.

I'd a couple of days' holiday to take before the end of the company's holiday year so got left with the last two days of March. A couple of plans fell by the wayside until I finally settled on the Trans Cambrian ITT. Starting in Knighton on the English-Welsh border it takes a meandering line to reach the coast at Dyfi Junction. It would link up with bits of riding I'd done before. Both end
points are railway stations so that's an obvious means of getting there.

A trip to the local ticket office got myself and bike booked on trains to Knighton along with a reduction in fare from £61 to £18.60! The only problem was that it meant I got there at 1500 so unless I managed to ride the route in the fastest time ever I was going to have to bivy.

Your carriage awaits sir.

The journey was fine though the final leg from Shrewsbury to Knighton along the Heart of Wales line was in a single carriage train that was packed - apparently there were some concessionary fares during March and it seemed like everyone was taking advantage.

A quick trip to the Spar in Knighton then I was ready for the off. Set the tracker going, turn on the GPS, check tracker. Hmm not all the lights are flashing so turn off and back on again. Now it's fine.

Ready for the off!

The first few kilometres are on road then it's off-road and up. It's soon apparent that things are going to be pretty damp, anything more than a slight incline is a push since there's very roughly zero traction. Once the first big climb is out of the way it's a bit easier going but care is needed in line choice to avoid sinking into vehicle ruts and drainage channels.

And the sign said "Let there be mud", and there was mud.

Just over the hour gets me to the junction with last year's BB200 route, at least I know where I'm going for the next bit. It is however very wet, downhills are slow as well since the bike just washes out if I don't concentrate on every bump and off-camber slope, there's no just letting things rip.

Rather than heading south over more moorland to Llanbister the route now drops steeply to Llanbadarn Fynnydd. The route crosses the river by a ford but it's way too deep and fast to even contemplate so round by the village. A long drag up a muddy lane leads to fields and more walking due to lack of traction then it's down a road covered in sheep shit to something a bit cleaner and then forestry tracks down towards Bwlch y Sarnau.

Some rather flighty horses on the moorland. Then again I could just have been smelling a bit.

The last time I was here was about 10pm on the BB200 and the cafe was open, no such luck at 5pm on a Thursday in March. Oh, well. One more hill then it's a long blast into Rhaeadr. 4hrs15mins to here.

A paltry raid on the Spar, a quick phone call to Cath, then to the chippy for something a bit more substantial. I'm sat outside scoffing my grub when the first spots of rain begin. Can't complain really, it's been lovely and warm and sunny until now.

Unfortunately the battery in my rear light has died so with the onset of darkness I'd better get the road section over and done with. The tracks to the south of the Elan valley are new to me and are great fun even in the dark and wet, need to come back and explore a bit more.

I make the first nav mistake of the ride by heading south on the route to Carnau, at least the return to the correct line is downhill. The next bit is the Claerwen track - if you've got submarine mode on your bike then engage it now! Half an hour of frustration and I'm back on better terrain. The track alongside the reservoir goes with and then against the wind, the rain it brings isn't nice. I'm looking for the bothy here, not realising that it's much further on and is actually a Km away from the track I'm following. I need somewhere to kip.

I pass an old cottage and something makes me stop and check. It's in the process of being renovated and isn't locked. Result! Out of the wind and rain I get a decent night. (for obvious reasons I'm not mentioning where it is or showing photos)

The morning brings more wind and rain but it should be easing (if the forecast can be believed). The track I was on continues in the same manner as before: two deep wheel ruts filled with water with a couple of ridges in between. Back on tarmac I weave between isolated farms and cottages, one has had the bridleway diverted, there's a few like this according to the amiable owner.

Obligatory arty shot in front of a stack of felled timber.

Back into the woods for the traverse above the Ystwyth valley before dropping down and following the road past the old mining works. Bear left at the end of this on the mountain road. It looks very steep and most of the tarmac has been washed out leaving just a narrow strip in the centre. I manage to climb it OK even though my legs are beginning to protest. Steady climbing and a fast descent through forestry lead to the main road near Llangurig. Left then first right.

I've been in this area four times and I've ridden the next bit of bridleway on three of them! Unusually, when compared to the state of the rest of the route this bit is drier and relatively easy to ride. It pops me in to Hafran forest, I know my way through here and soon I'm at the ford on the River Severn. Footbridge for me.

About to enter Hafran Forest.

The climb up from Staylittle is a drag and it's into the wind. Once on the ridge I'm reduced to walking on the flat, the combination of sodden ground and wind mean I'm using less energy. The drop into the upper Clwyedog is nice riding. At the bridge I'm out of the wind so stop for something to eat and sort everything out.

Dropping into the Clwyedog valley. The tyre tracks are from "pushing" the bike into shot, not riding it, it was that soft.

Push up from the bridge then broad trails over to Glaslyn. A bit more climbing then it's a steep descent on what is effectively scree down the side of Foel Fadian. Again once on the grass I can't just let the bike go as there's so little grip. The brakes smell a bit by the bottom!

I had a sense of humour failure on the next bit, getting lost more than once and having to backtrack. Once at Bwlch y Groeson there was just the traverse of the ridge and it was then downhill to the mainroad.

Hang a right and along the track by the railway, up onto the platform and down to the far end. Finished! 23hrs27mins but with just fifteen hours of moving time.

Journey's End.

That was hard work. Not sure what it was but I certainly wasn't firing on all cylinders. That combined with the soft ground and strong wind. Maybe March is the wrong time of year for it, the ground hasn't dried out plus fairly short days.

Here's the Strava bit,



I'd a couple of reasons for a long ride as I needed to check out intended kit and systems for the Highland Trail at the end of May. Most stuff worked, a few things didn't. Best find out now.

Post Script

My phone beeps, it's a text from Cath:

"Well Done! ..."

I open it to read the full message.

"Well Done!

Horrid news from Australia - Mike Hall was killed in an accident overnight"

I'm ejected from my bubble by the real world. I spend the hour waiting for the train in contemplation and barely holding back tears for someone whom I didn't know and had only ever met briefly once. As someone once said:

"It's not about the bike."

Fat bikes at the BearBones winter event

"So, where are the motors then?"

"You're looking at them. We're the motors!"

The farmer was obviously a bit confused in the encroaching gloom. He had mistaken our fat bikes for moto-cross bikes. The ensuing conversation was slightly bizarre with him talking about the course that Dan and Rachel Atherton had built nearby: "ramps that they jump off are as big as my house!"

This was my second and Cath's first BearBones Winter event. This is a bit like a make it up as you go along Trailquest or orienteering on bikes. You get sent a list of grid references - including the obligatory location in the Irish Sea! No prizes for visiting all the given locations, choose where you want to go and make up your own route as you see fit. The locations generally follow a theme, this year it was "Church or Chapel" - eight churches and eight chapels, choose one or the other.

Laying out the maps of the area on the living room floor we plotted the locations (the errant Irish Sea church had been relocated to somewhere less isolated), 20p pieces for the churches, pennies for the chapels. It was apparent that most of the chapels were in areas we had visited either on the BB200 or when riding into and out of last summer's Bearstock shindig. Churches it was then.

With going to Rovaniemi in a month's time it was time to get some fat biking training done. Having done last year's event and found that the grassier bridleways are a little on the interesting side during winter the plan was to stick to roads, tracks and firmer ground wherever possible. A bit of map work and we'd a 100Km route for the two days with a rather hefty 2600 metres of ascent thrown into the mix. The route did allow for some short cuts which are always handy at this time of year.

Our plan to stop at Oswestry for the Friday night then head to Llanbrynmair early on Saturday morning proved to be a decent option given the tales of struggling to get to the "official" pre-event pub in the snow. On the other hand the restaurant we ate at did have their "heaters" blowing cold air at us until I pointed it out to the staff!

Saturday morning is a chance to have a chat with some familiar faces whilst being fed tea and toast courtesy of Dee and Stuart. Perhaps more importantly given that I've forgotten my full weight waterproof is Mark Evans turning up on time with an insulated windshirt that I was buying off him. A check and it fits, and doesn't get taken off! I think I'm going to need it. Time to go.

Then after 300m realise that I've left my rear light in the car - doh!

A ford on a hidden lane.

Back for that then we are really on our way. The first bit of the route didn't look too bad, especially when compared to riding over Bwlch y Groes later on but in reality it was going across the grain of the land so was: up; down; up; down, with hardly any flat whatsoever. Thus at one moment you were sweating away then chilling off as you dropped back down the hill.

Straightforward after some very slippy rock.

Yep! It's another long climb.

Now while I'd tried to avoid grassy bridleways there was one that was unavoidable as it traversed a hillside before plunging down to some woods. While fat bikes have great traction most surfaces, a couple of centimetres of wet, muddy grass overlying subsoil isn't one of them, some of the resultant slides were quite comedic. Fortunately the steeper parts of the descent were a different, rougher species of grass and you could get grip but as soon as the angle eased things had been seeded with pasture varieties and we were back to sliding around. After getting lost in the woods - well you'd take the big obvious track rather than the faint line wouldn't you? The proper line was really good if short lived, eventually dropping through a rock cutting so presumably an access track to an old quarry. 

By now time was getting on and with the cold and damp we needed some refreshment. Andy and Adam's cafe in Corris was the eating hole and most excellent it was too. Cath had the broth and I had the chowder. 

Nearly sided it all up!

As we were leaving a couple of other riders arrived from the direction we were heading - decision time for them: late lunch or early supper? There wasn't going to be much daylight left by the time we set off and riding along winding main roads in the dark didn't appeal so a short cut was called for. This was also on a main road but much more open so drivers would be able to see us in good time.

Checking out the tiger bike at the cafe in Corris

First of all there was the little matter of a col to cross. This was on a national cycle route and was probably an old lane at one point but is now tarmac. It was a long slog though on a fat bike, interrupted only by our conversation with the farmer. Down to the Cross Foxes pub then along the A470 to Dinas Mawddwy before heading up valley and a search for a bivy site.

We were back on the planned route now, the way ahead lay along a steep bridleway. A building on the map that we hoped might be a farm building turned out to be a house - no go there then. A little further on I notice a relatively flat spot amongst all the steepness and trees. It would have to do, certainly it was a lot better than my bivy last year - we were well sheltered from wind and rain. A quick clearing of twigs and other debris and the tarp was. Our evening meal was rice and tuna, the pan is just big enough for one serving each so while one of us ate the other was getting their sleeping kit ready.

A view from a room

One disadvantage of bivying under tree cover is that things are much darker than you are used to. Consequently it was gone eight when we decided to move. We hadn't finished off the climb from the night before so there was about 100 metres of steep track to start with.

This got us to a junction of ways but it was downhill for us and a nice bit of singletrack contouring above the river turned into a quad bike track then a farm track all the way down the valley. A bit muddy but all rideable. Eventually we passed through a farmyard with associated "friendly" dogs and some rather excitable bullocks to a blast down to the main road. Back on with the rear lights (don't want any excuses about "Sorry mate I didn't see you") for the couple of Km or so to our turn off.

On the bridleway by Afon Clwyedog

This was the home straight, all forestry tracks and roads from now on. First a long, long drag up into and through the forestry. We headed north for a couple of Km before doing a 180deg turn and heading south for a couple of Km by which time we'd nearly circumnavigated a complete ridge! I'm not a fan of riding in forests - you don't get any sense of progression or sense of place. Eventually though we began to descend and came to the forest gate: locked! Lifting loaded fat bikes over five bar gates isn't easy! The track continued in a generally downhill direction with just the occasional 100m of pedalling required for flat sections or short rises.

Just before the next section of forestry there's a track heading down into the cwm to our right, it will get us out of the wind and drizzle. It's steep and fast and eventually drops us into a farmyard with a rather deep looking ford in the middle of it. Luckily there's a bridge to the side that we can ride across. We are now on tarmac and it's all downhill, really. There's virtually no pedalling involved until we get to the main road in Llanbrynmair. This does mean that we get chilled through the lack of effort on our part.

Lots of tea and grub courtesy of Dee and Stuart again, get into some dry clothes, chat with others until it's time to load the bikes into the car and head home.

We didn't manage our planned 100Km route but ended up doing 85Km and 1700 metres of ascent. A decent amount of training done.

Bear Bones 200

Mid Wales isn't somewhere you associate with lots of bridleways and mountain biking but look around and there's quite a number of bridleways, lanes and ancient rights of way that can be linked together. Every year this is what Stuart Wright does creating a route of around 200Km and invites others to ride it. The route changes from year to year and it's one of only two UK ITTs not to have a fixed route, the Yorkshire Dales 200 is the other.

It should be noted that Stuart's idea of a bike route and that of others don't necessarily align!

Expect interesting terrain.

So it was that on an October Sunday morning he emailed a GPX file to everyone who had signed up. I loaded it in to a suitable mapping web site and the disection began. Even though I haven't done much in Mid-Wales there were a few bits I had visited on the winter ride and Bearstock but these amounted to maybe 10% of the route, more investigation was required. Already there were murmurings on interweb forums, those in the know proffered digital nods and winks.

Tracing along the route in a photo website didn't reveal anything untoward but then the photographers were more interested in dilapidated old pieces of farm machinery than TPM (Tussocks Per Mile). Stuart mentioned a general slowing down might be expected after the halfway point. There was talk of a fast first half with the second half taking twice as long. A cruel finish was being spoken of.

More questions were forthcoming on the forum: where were the resupply points? What about pubs? What are the opening hours of the chippy in Knighton? Oh, hang on - the Sunday Co-op hours are different aren't they? Plans formed and disolved in equal measure.

Like many rural areas Mid-Wales has suffered from the tyranny of the motor car, village shops and services have closed as people  became more mobile and retail chains became the norm. More interweb searching leads to the conclusion that the only viable resupply points are Knighton at 100Km and Llanidloes at 160Km, the latter coming after some of the "slowing down". Most would be able to use Knighton but depending on strategy and pace Llanidloes might be shut.

Generally on events like this time is "made" by not losing time. My "steady away" pace is about 14kmh and at that sort of speed five minutes in a shop getting resupplied equates to just over 1Km, too many stops adds up. The countryside isn't a trail centre and there are often gates to contend with. These range from smooth and bike friendly to "it's better to lift the bike over" but if you weren't concentrating then each can take a minute to negotiate. A 14kmh pace would mean getting to Knighton in around 7hrs. Someone noted that there was 90Km of road on the route but a look at the map confirmed it wasn't all flat and most of it was in the first half. A possible strategy was emerging.

Aim for Knighton and refuel there. The next target would be to get to Llanidloes before the Co-op or Spar shut which would mean 7hrs for the 60Km (it would get dark about halfway through this section), however I'd take on enough supplies to ensure that I didn't rely on getting there in time. Once at Llanidloes there was about 10Km of easier riding until I got on to a section I'd done before, that would get me to the "sting in the tail". Depending on time and how I felt after Llanidloes I'd either bivy if feeling tired or ride through to the finish. I didn't want to commit to doing one or the other. Then came the news that a community cafe in Bwlch y Sarnau was going to stay open through the night for riders doing the event! ByS is at 140Km so a handy spot meaning that getting to Llanidloes wasn't the make or break it could have been.

The bike was set up with this in mind: seat pack with bivy gear and two stem cells with food. Although I try not to use a backpack this time it made sense as I could carry water in it and not using a frame bag or water bottles would mean that the main triangle was clear so carrying the bike would be easier should there be any serious hike-a-bike. The bike and luggage weighed 14Kg with 3kg or so on my back.

Saturday morning and there's a nervous group of cyclists loitering in and around Llanbrynmair Community Centre. Inside Stuart and Dee are serving up tea and breakfast. There isn't a group start, you can set off any time between 0800 and 1000. This has the advantage that you aren't immediately in "race" mode trying to keep up with others and overdo it early on as it's likely you'll set off on your own. The choice really is about whether to start early to make the most of the daylight or start later and have some riders ahead of you to act as "targets" to pull you along.

Cath's away early on to make the most of the daylight, I wait a while getting more food and drink inside me before starting at 0855. The first few Km are road but generally uphill until a turn left and things steepen. Eventually the gradient eases and forestry tracks lead to and from the high point. Once on the road again it's mostly downhill for the next half hour or so but even the uphill bits aren't hard. The fast riders are already going past with alarming ease. At Llandinam the next bit of hard work starts in earnest, there's 400m of height to gain in the next few Km with a nice muddy traversing bridleway to make things interesting. I catch Cath on the first really steep climb, all but the strongest are walking.

For those of you who have only ever seen his back, this is what Stuart "it's not a race" Cowperthwaite looks like.

As the day goes on I begin to catch up the early riders and more of the faster riders pass me. Sometime I'm riding with company with a bit of chatter then the elastic snaps and I'm on my own again. The route is quite easy to follow with just the occasional check of the GPS to make sure. The early morning clag clears and it's a bright if not sunny day and just the right temperature for riding.

On the outward leg.

There's a few squiggles in the route where you are riding along a ridgeline only to drop into the valley before climbing back up on to the ridge. At the last of these climbs we have a strange encounter with a local resident.

"You can't go up here, it's not a right of way."

"The map says it's a bridleway."

"Yes. So it's for horses. Bicycles aren't allowed."

"Err, a bridleway is for horses and pedal cycles. It's just motorised vehicles that aren't allowed."

"Is it? Well I never knew that!"

A bit more dealing with moaning then it's on with the climb. Eventually this climb becomes a push until the angle eases and we roll through fields to Bucknell Woods. At some point on here my GPS bounces out of its mount but fortunately it's also on a leash so it's a moment's work to remount it. A blast down the fire-road to a tight bend then a little working out where we are meant to go gets us on to a great bit of singletrack flowing down through beech and oak trees. All too soon we are on the road and it's a steady few Km to Knighton. I sip the last of my water from the Camelbak. I get to Knighton in 6hrs45 so just inside my projected pace.

Knighton cafe stop.

There's quite a gaggle (dunno what the collective noun for a group of bikepackers is) of riders in the Spar and at a cafe across the road. Just what the staff thought of twenty muddy cyclists suddenly turning up goodness knows. I think we cleaned them out of bottled water! A few bites to eat, refill the water, drink the rest then on my way.

Another rider, Richard, leaves at the same time as me, we'd been riding together for a while earlier on but he'd pressed on ahead about 20Km earlier. The first big climb out of Knighton and we both decide to walk, I can feel a small twinge of cramp but nothing that a bit of walking can't deal with. We walk a bit further than the gradient dictated then it was back on the bikes and keep on rolling.

Up, down, gates, lanes, tracks. It was all nice flowing riding. The route then pulled on to moorland and everything opened up with great views over the Mid-Wales countryside. I was now about a minute behind Richard, he was always in sight but I was basically riding alone. The riding was quick with just the occasional ditch that had you thinking "Can I ride through it?" Some you could, others looked a little too much. I like riding through heather moorland, you get a feeling of floating on a sea of purple and it's nearly always well draining so doesn't get too boggy for most of the year. All too soon I'm blasting down the descent off the moor and in to Llanbister. The light's now starting to fade so on with the rear light as there's a little bit of road work then it's more up.

Once out of the fields there's more moorland tracks but by the time I drop to a road that crosses the ridge I definitely need the front light. Through a farmyard and up again. Away to the east there are lights descending the previous block of moorland. I catch my erstwhile companion who's taking a short break and I get the good line down to the next farm. From here to the cafe is forestry tracks and tarmac lanes. The forestry is mainly uphill though and drags somewhat.

The long descent into Bwlch y Sarnau chills me and I need to put my spare clothes on once inside (I've been riding in just a short sleeved top to this point), Richard arrives a few minutes later. A pot of tea and a bowl of soup for starters. That all goes down nicely. I'm looking at the cake. Hmm. Maybe a refill of tea first. Finally I give in and have a piece of coffee cake. Richard heads off, I won't see him again until the end, as it turns out I don't see any other riders once I leave the cafe. More riders arrive at regular intervals but eventually after nearly an hour I decide I'd better make a move and after refilling my Camelbak head out.

Belinda, an absolute star.

The chill air is a shock and the first few hundred metres is downhill so no chance of warming up. Turn left and along a track, this turns muddy then mucky when it passes a silage feed cage for cattle - riding through 20cm of slurry isn't nice! I aim for the next few puddles to clean things up. Getting to Llanidloes is mainly road though quite a bit of up and down. The 20Km takes me 1hr20 and I ride through town just as the Co-op is closing. I've no need of restocking though. I do need to stop to get more stones out of my shoes. I take the opportunity to text Cath that I'm feeling good and will probably push on to the finish in one go. While I'm sat there a bloke in drag passes me - "Charity pub crawl mate". "Ah".

The next climb is another steep one and I'm walking it. Once it eases I'm back on the bike and making good time. The road turns to track but it's easy going. Most of the gates are open on this bit and when I reach the next lane and head down the hill I'm on terrain I've done before. From here through Hafran Forest to Staylittle is familiar. Somewhere on one of the forestry tracks I'm told there was someone kipping by the side of the track but I didn't see them. As I blast down the road out of the forest my back light dies - shouldn't be a problem as there's no traffic and not much road left anyway.

The climb out of Staylittle to Dylife is a drag, just the wrong angle for me at this time and I walk quite a bit of it. As I drop down to the pub I see a couple of sets of lights near the top of the climb on the other side. Just 15Km to go. As I start the climb I take on more food, just walking along getting energy in. Then I lose the line. There's no tyre tracks on the other side of the gate but I can't see where anyone has gone. Eventually by dint of lifting the bike up and shining the light around I spot a faint track but I have to carry the bike up the banking to get to it.

This is the start of the sting in the tale. The next 2Km to the top of the ridge is a push, carry, push again, look for gate through fence, keep pushing. On the ridge there's a track, easy going. I can still see the lights of the two riders in front of me. But why are they up there and I'm heading downhill? I stop and check the GPS, yes this is right. I keep descending until eventually I come to a stream and the uphill starts again.

A clean bike is a happy bike.

I'm tired now and as I ride along I periodically check the GPS (the screen is off by default to save batteries). Damn! I've overshot the turning. I turn back and head up the only track. After a couple of hundred metres I check again. I'm on the wrong track. Back down to the fire road. I wander back and forth trying to find the track that matches the line on the GPS screen but there isn't one. Cursing I start climbing the only track again. I reach a gate - keep going I'll figure it out when I get out of this damn wood.

On top of the ridge, I'm on the right line again!? How? Never mind, this bit's a blast. Keep going and watch out for the left turn where the bridleway drops to the road. Except I don't see one. After overshooting I retrace my steps. No track, what's going on? Never mind I'll chuck the bike over the fence and wing it. On the other side of the fence is another track! Just beyond that is the track descending in to the dark. This is steep but I don't care, just ride and keep going.

Cross the road and the next bridleway is a push - the forestry has been felled and it's unrideable. Out of the woods and the route traverses a grassy hillside. I keep getting lost, losing height and having to push my way back up hill. Eventually I get on to the final bridleway but it's only rideable in bits, there's gorse and old stone walls in the way. Finally it's rideable and it's all downhill.

With the bright lights of Llanbrynmair ahead it's full steam ahead. Then I lose concentration, catch the edge of a rut and I'm airborne. No damage done but I take the rest of the descent a bit more circumspectly.

I roll back into the community centre at 0348 for an overall time of 18hrs53mins, good enough for a black badge. The fastest time was 15hrs09mins.

I done gone and got me one of these!!

After a couple of hours' kip (and being woken by some lovelorn teenage girl sobbing and shouting for her boyfriend) it's time to get up and start spotting the incoming riders. Cath arrives, she had a great first day getting 150Km in to the route but a bit of a 'mare on the second day.

Cath finishing

What have I done to her!

Overall I think I got just about everything right, possibly my best ITT to date:

• I ate well but still had some food in reserve;
• I drank properly, I ran out of water just before Knighton so perfect timing, refilled there and at Bwlch y Sarnau which did me to the finish;
• I only got the occasional twinge of cramp but didn't need to get off and walk to sort it out.

The Strava bit or it didn't happen:

Bach to Bach

I'm starting to worry. It's 9pm in January in rural Mid-Wales, there's not a house light to be seen and I've been in driving rain or sleet for hours now, my light has decided to go in to emergency mode and I've no idea how much longer the battery will last and no opportunity of shelter has presented itself. 

A vaguely flat spot by the side of the forest trail will have to do, I break out the tarp. A few minutes later the shelter is up and the wind changes and blows straight in. Things aren't looking good. Head down, I look round. Nothing but steep slopes with sparse vegetation buffeted by the wind. I wander down the track and round the corner I pick out a shape. It's a calf creep feeder, I look inside and the floor is dry. Result! Back to the bike and get everything together again and return to the creep feed. Draping the tarp at the windward side and end I manage to get things windproof. Sleeping mat and bag unpacked, time to get in to dry clothes and make a brew.

I'm halfway through the Bearbones winter event, this year entitled "Bach to Bach" as the points of interest all contained that Welsh word (it means "little"). I had ideas of visiting all the fourteen grid references that had been sent to us and had worked out a 190Km route that linked them all up with as little hike-a-bike as possible. There's no requirement to visit all the points, it's up to the individual as to which and how many they visit, but I like a challenge and it would be a good assessment of my fitness.

It didn't quite work out like that.

All this area is new to me which has advantages and disadvantages, the latter would become quite apparent. In a few minutes I catch another rider and we ride together for a couple of kilometres until I head east to pick up a checkpoint that he has no interest in. I didn't know it at the time but he would be the only one out of nearly seventy who had turned up for the event that I would see away from the event centre.

Off-road the effect of the winter's incessant rain was soon apparent, uphill was basically a push as there was no traction unless you were on a stone track, downhill was an exercise in care/frustration, any attempt to turn at speed was really about controlling the slide. Somewhere admist the slipping, sliding, spinning, pushing I was looking down in to the remote Hyddgen valley. It was around here that the rain started. The ford by the farm steading could be avoided by a bridge that had seen better days though the river might just have been manageable. The next river most certainly was not. A footbridge further upstream provided temporary salvation, an attempt at crossing a side stream saw me in thigh deep water, if I wasn't wet before I was now.

The track became road and I picked up speed again until I came to a junction: left or right? A thrubbing of knobbly wheels announced the arrival of a solitary mountain biker who just happened to know where he was. A chat and some directions and we went our separate ways. He was the only person I spoke to or even saw between leaving the rider near the start and Rhayader. I missed the turning for the shortcut so ended up hitting the main road at the bottom of a long, long hill. This wouldn't have been so bad but the wind and rain had picked up so I had to pedal down the other side as well. The two grid refs on the ridge between the road and the Elan Valley would have to wait, I was getting cold. So cold I couldn't even undo the buckle on my helmet or turn on my rear light. Some serious manning up later and I was on my way again.

The pub in Rhayader was already serving food but my first request was for a cup of coffee, not so much to drink as to warm my hands by. I was putting out more heat than the fire in the corner so it took a long while to warm up. The cold had also affected my stomach and it was hard work eating. When I said I was heading out again to carry on riding I got some very strange looks, not sure if they were of astonishment or pity.

My optimised "all points route" had missed Rhayader by a valley to the north, now the way lay up a long road hill. Fortunately the wind was on my back. The road turned to track then entered more woods. Somewhere I missed the exit for the other side and emerged in the wrong place though I didn't know it (I had to check my Strava trace to find where I'd been). The next grid ref should have been left then almost immediately turn right so I turned left except there was nowhere to turn right. I carried on, a farm building offered the prospect of some shelter for the night but on inspection there was no room at that inn. The village I should have entered a while ago loomed out of the dark, at least I knew where I was now but sod the grid ref. There were woods ahead and hopefully shelter, I was in need of it. The creep feed beckoned.

Your room sir!

The morning light was grey again, putting on wet cycling trousers isn't pleasant. My seat pack is now full of yesterdays soaking cycling kit and weighs about double what it did before. The next grid ref is further along the track but not before another section of pushing across a grass field. There's a couple of tyre tracks here so someone has been here before me. The bright lights of Llanidloes beckon but I'm too early for the Co-op so a quick out and back to visit another grid ref. Pre-tax sugar drink and a Mars Bar are my reward before it's uphill again to the next grid ref. I can't find the start of the bridleway to cut across to the next road so it's back down the hill and up again. Easiest now to stick on this road to the next village then up the valley. Not as aesthetic but who cares.

The last hill, just one chevron on the map presumably because they couldn't fit in the three it deserves, even after leaving the road and the angle eases I'm still pushing as it's simply more energy efficient than trying to pedal up what used to be grass meadow. I reach the forestry edge and there's no let up as clearance work has created a minefield of brushwood and swamp. Finally I see the windfarm that marks the start of rideable ground again and clearing the woodland I pick up the access track, one short rise then it's down hill, track giving way to tarmac, open fell to hedges, cars. All that's left is the main road back to the start.

The scores on the doors were: 155Km ridden; 3300 metres of ascent; 8 grid refs visited; 2 sets cycling kit soaked.

Day one

Day Two:



Thanks to Stu and Dee for the organisation, tea and cakes.

Red Kite Central

Many centuries ago the Red Kite was a common sight in both town and country, an opportunistic scavenger rather than predator due to its light build though it can take small prey. Despite this it was classed as vermin with a price on its head and numbers fell. With sporting estates on the rise in the 18th and 19th centuries they were the subject of further persecution and by the end of the 19th century the bird was extinct in England and Scotland. Wales has probably always been the main centre of their distribution: the Welsh for Kite is "barcud" and it's a common part of the names of natural features in the same way that there are over fifty Raven Crags in the Lake District.

By the 1930s there only an estimated 20 birds left in mid Wales. In a rather bizarre twist landowners and gamekeepers realising that the bird was about to become extinct began to protect it. By the 1970s numbers had slowly risen and a genetic survey of all the known birds suggested that they were all descended from a single breeding female, a very lucky escape. In an effort to increase bloodline, numbers and spread birds were introduced from the continent so that today there are several populations around the country though mid Wales is still the heartland of its distribution.

The kite is a pretty large bird, there aren't many UK birds that are larger, a grown adult has about the same wingspan of a heron, about 1.8m, so they are quite impressive to view close up. Rhaeadr is home to the Red Kite Centre where food is put out daily for them, let's just say that if you visit and don't see a kite then you really aren't looking as they are as common as crows in the skies.

All this is by way of introducing a long weekend mountain biking in mid Wales! Despite having lived in North Wales for nine years, I'd only ever passed through on my way to Cardiff. I'd not done anything in the area: no biking, no climbing not even any walking though I've a very vague memory of visiting the Elan Valley dams as a kid on a family holiday.

Friday didn't start out too well, we had torrential rain for most of the way down and this didn't really give up until mid-afternoon. Taking advantage of this we nipped out on one of the shorter rides in the Wales MTB guidebook, the Claerwen Valley loop. For the supposed grade (easy) this was pretty tough and there were several sections where we needed to walk and hike a bike. Hopefully this wasn't a sign of things to come.

Riding towards the Claerwen dam. A few "wet" sections ahead.

Pulling up through the bracken on the first climb out of Rhaeadr.

Saturday morning dawned with yet more rain though it was forecast to clear up during the day. By about 1100 we couldn't put it off any longer so headed down in to the town of Rhaeadr to do a loop on the hills between there and the Elan Valley. By the time we'd got a mile out of town it was boiling so off with the waterproofs and in to the first climb of the day. Again this was graded blue but required a bit of walking over rock steps. After a river crossing (interesting) and a road climb there was more uphill, made interesting by the local habit of removing sign posts.

Once on the top of the hill there was a really pleasant track heading over towards the Elan reservoirs before a cut back towards an ascent graded black in the book and described as "ten minutes of pushing". Oh Dear. Three minutes of riding and about 30 seconds of pushing later and it's done. Hmm, I haven't got that much better in the space of three kilometres. The next descent was a cracker, good track interspersed with rocky steps, unfortunately over all too quickly.

Beginning the descent down Y Gurn.

What followed was twenty minutes of hike-a-bike, yep - another blue graded ascent. After a (ahem) slight detour we found the main descent of the day down to the Elan Valley. Graded black it wasn't that bad apart from a couple of short sections maybe twenty metres in total.

Descending to the Elan Valley.

A short section on the road then we followed the Elan Valley trail to gain the upper reservoir from where a long red graded climb led back on to the moor tops. Nowhere difficult, it was just a matter of keeping the pedals turning. An easy, lovely descent, a bit of road then a long ridge led back to Rhaeadr.

One of the classic pieces of single track is the Doethie Valley. One problem: it really is the middle of nowhere. Even from close by it takes over an hour to drive to the start of the ride at Llyn Brianne. There's a lot of fire road to start but then things start with a vengeance with the climb up from Soar y Mynedd. Several signs indicating that the "road"(it's an unclassified country road) is closed along with locked gates aren't encouraging.

Descending to Soar y Mynydd

There was no way I was good enough to climb the track on the bike so it's push time. Eventually the angle eases and it's back on the bike and the descent on the other side shows why it's shut with 2 metre deep gullies running for hundreds of metres. Then it's a left turn and the track down the Afon Doethie begins.

Starting down the Afon Doethie amongst the bracken

Due to us riding this later in the year the bracken was in full growth and in many points it was more akin to skiing in deep powder although a strange green snow and you just had to trust that the track was still there beneath your wheels. Some people (strange people) moan that there's boggy bits and horror of horrors, gates that mean the ride isn't that good but this is a track that happens to be rideable by bike rather than designed with bikes in mind.

At one point we lose the track completely, there's no indication in the bracken as to it's whereabouts and we eventually stumble back on line. About halfway down the valley, Cath takes a potentially nasty tumble, managing to fall at one of the few points where the enclosing bracken wouldn't cushion your fall. Proceeding at an easier pace the riding still requires attention as there's an ever present drop to the stream to the right.

There's a lot of this!

There's a short rocky section which we walk as a fall here would have interesting consequences but it's the only really difficult part of the ride. Slowly the ride becomes gentler then we are in to fields and then a farmyard. All that's left is a long steady pull back up to the reservoir. 

One of the best singletracks in the UK? I'm not sure about that but I'd like to ride it earlier in the year when the bracken isn't so high.

For our last day we headed east for a ride on our way home. To the north of New Radnor is a small group of steep sided hills - the Radnor Forest. Now mainly clear of woodland they are splendidly isolated and there's great views from the tops.

The route started with one of the steepest roads I've ever ridden, it must have been 25% for nearly a kilometre, it was a struggle to keep moving whilst keeping the front wheel on the deck. Even when the tarmac ended the grass track was still steep. You've guessed - the guidebook gave it blue!

Great views from the summit plateau.

After another steep climb that I was sure I was going to have to walk but managed not to there was a bit of forestry fire road then it was out on to the plateau. The guidebook's boggy section was nearly dry thanks to the previous dry weather then it's a great descent before another steep ascent. This was all rideable and led back on to the plateau towards the curiously named Three Riggles. 

Contouring round the Three Riggles

This was another singletrack contouring round a steep valley but considerably easier than the Afon Doethie. All that was left was the final descent which was a blast down an old cart track with the fence bounding a firing range on our left.

Starting the final descent.

So, all in all a nice little break. Some good riding and some great riding. There's a few rides  still to do and I'd like to do the Afon Doethie again without the bracken.