North Wales Day 2
Day 2
We arrived back into Llangollen just as it was becoming
dusk, we hadn’t had any real rain but it was over cast and damp. Before putting
the bike away we refuelled ready for a quick start in the morning.
The hotel was quite a tidy but Spartan affair, but it suited
us. We got partially changed in the car park to minimise the amount of dirt we
walked into the hotel. I couldn’t see a posh hotel allowing bikers to
walk in and out as they do. They had a hanging rail in the bedroom and a heater
which was handy to dry out the clothes, the bed was hard and I couldn’t find
the free wi-fi they advertised, however my room had a deep bath with plenty of
hot water and that’s the main thing.
That evening we sat down in the hotel bar to a nice pub
lunch, where we join by Wolfie and his son George. We talked about tomorrow’s
ride and while Dave had the route plotted on his GPS, I backed it up onto my
Satmap and showed Wolfie how to map the route onto his Satmap. With time
ticking on and the route mapped I retired back to my room to get some kip
before the morning’s ride.
I awoke early to watch the sun rise, well as much as I could
through the changing weather, sunrise, rain, sunshine and rainbows. The wind
had picked up considerably too. Soon it was time to go down for breakfast, a
buffet affair where you could have anything from yoghurt and cereal, to a full
blow English, and if you felt really hungry you could have everything. But
today for me would see sensible eating something that would fuel the body for a
good day’s riding.
Breakfast done it was back up to the room, pack up, get
kitted up ready for the ride and checked out of the hotel. The weather so far today had managed to throw
everything at us apart from snow. This was going to be the setting for the rest
of the day.
Four of us sat in the rain, waiting in the hotel car park
whilst the others filled their tanks with fuel; the ride that was planned would
see us having to fill up half way round to be able to return, so the tanks were
brimmed to be sure. The rain turned to drizzle and we were finally on our way.
The ride saw us making our way through a housing estate, not the norm for
getting to a lane. We edged our way to the outskirts of the village where we
found our first lane, the lane started as a single laned track of broken
potholed tarmac which lead up to and weaved between a couple of houses. Once
past the houses the lane deteriorated until it became a mixture of shale,
stones and large rocks. The lane was slowly climbing and had now turned to mud and
stone. The lane turned again and the climb started to increase, for a while the
mud got deeper and the stones bigger. Leaves covered most of the surface, the
only part they couldn’t cover was the small rain water cut streams that were
running down the hill. These little streams exposed a glimpse of the surface to
come.
The hill suddenly became steep, the rain had on this point
of the climb washed all the soil away and the surface was a solid slate stepped
affair strewn with rocks and boulders. This was one of those climbs, where you
knew you couldn’t stop until you had reached the summit. Unfortunately that
wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Dave had stopped at the bottom of the hill
to assess the situation. Wolfie had gotten most of the way up but had stopped
at a very large step up on the right hand side. His son had stopped about 10
yards further down. I was heading up the right hand side, I realised I had to
get over to the left but got boxed in by Dean, who was bouncing all over the
place. So I came to rest just behind George. Dean continued to bounce and
paddle his way up until he finally got spat off just before the step up. Colin also managed to slip passed skidding
left and right until a moment later he got spat off too. We then spent what
seemed like an age slipping and sliding trying to lift, drag and carry our
bikes up the hill and over the step up. Wolfie had the idea that if he went all
the way back down, he could then come up the left hand side and get up to and
over the lip. This second attempt saw him fail even further down the hill from
where I had got boxed in.
Finally we had all made it up and over the step, and just in
time as 3 Landrovers roared up the trail. Once we had regained our breathe we
set off to tackle the rest of the climb. Colin and Wolfie were the first off
followed by Dave then me. As we climbed
the hill two bikers were heading down and I wondered which way I would have
preferred to tackle the hill. A little further up, Dave caught the wrong line
and was soon off, for the third time this weekend. I felt bad as I passed, but it was one of
those climbs where it is better to get to the top then walk back down, than to
stop and try and get started again. Once the trail levelled off at the top of
the hill we waited. Wolfie had stopped
about three quarters of the way up, but soon both he and Dave joined us.
The wind was blowing so hard it was driving the rain almost
horizontally across the hill top into us, then all of a sudden the rain stopped
and the sun came out leaving a rainbow across the valley below. A short while
later the three Landrovers passed us followed by Dean and George. They had
decided to let the Landrovers go first whilst they took a short break then
followed them up. We took a short break
then carried on our way. The sun shone
whilst we made our way to the second lane and stayed with us. The second lane
was another step climb of mud and rock, the rain was running down the hill in a
torrent and had washed a gully out that weaved its way from side to side and
exposed the slate bedrock. The climb was technical trying to think ahead, but
we were lucky to have made it passed the worse of it when we met the Landrovers
again, but this time they were coming the other way. The lane was narrow and
tight but the guys in the landrovers managed to back up and pull into a field
to let us pass. Thanks Lads. We stopped and chatted for a while and they
informed us off some nice lanes to ride, which once home we were to investigate
and plot for our next visit. This was the last time we saw these guys.
We finished the climb and hit the third lane which was a
short flat typical farm track, the fourth lane was a heavily rutted lane, but
not by 4x4’s as the ramblers like to say and blame, but by heavy farm
machinery. The lane was relatively flat and the water lay brim deep in the
ruts, the muddy brown water hiding what lay beneath. We ventured forward chancing each puddle as
we went; all bar one of the puddles was forgiving. Luckily we were traveling
slowly through the watery lane, because there beneath the murky cover lay a
deep and nasty rut that swallowed the front wheel. Fortunately it wasn’t that
long a rut and we were soon through without drowning any of the bikes.
The sun was now shining and the day was turning out to be better
than expected and not as forecast. Some
more road work saw us onto the next lane. This lane was the same lane we had
fun with yesterday, the one where Colin, Dean and Dave had struggled. But this
time we were armed with the knowledge of how to tackle the slippery slate bedrock
that had caught us out before. Holding the gate open I let the others get
ahead, everyone had disappeared around the corner by the time I was back on my
bike so I headed on up. As I rounded the
corner I saw Colin and George stuck on the slate. George I could understand because he wasn’t
with us yesterday but Colin should have known better. I passed safely and when further up the track
waited to see if I needed to go back and give them a hand, but several minutes
later they were on their way. As they headed up the lane the low autumn sun
shone silver off of the wet slate and running water. The clouds on the horizon looked
ominous, but for now we basked in the sunshine.
The sunshine was not to last though. We took some narrow
country lanes to the next trail, having to stop for a while, whilst a farmer on
a quad drove some cattle from the opposite direction to a field we’d passed. The
drizzle started and when we got to the next it had turn to rain, we took a
break at the gate where I changed memory card and battery on my camera. It was here that Colin’s bike stand decided
to parted company from the rest of his bike. By the time we set off again the
rain was being driving by the howling wind and day had turned into that which
had been forecast. The trail started by following a hill top with a deep valley
just off to the right of us, the trail then slowly made its way down into the
valley, criss-crossing mountain streams, the trail itself was a mixture of
stone and rock, loose slate shale, or compacted, rutted and smooth (as trails
go).
There was a section
in the middle were the trail cut through a marsh and a wooden sleeper raised
surface had been put in place. It was a good idea but with all the local rock
lying around I would have thought that, that would have been a harder wearing and
more sustainable surface. This obstacle did throw up a hazard in the form of an
unpredictable surface, the surface had been polished smooth from the tyres and
was very wet and slippery. It was this surface that saw George pirouette his
bike and get spat off. The first sleeper sat on top of the slate trail, so a
small amount of gas was required to lift the front wheel on to it, then a
second blip to make sure the back wheel followed. It’s my guess that George gave
it too big a handful, the rear wheel got traction and over took the front,
spinning him round and throwing him off. This make shift surface didn’t last too long,
but it did make you concentrate and think about your throttle control.
As we neared the end of this trail the sun tried it’s
hardest to come through, but its attempts were short lived. Although for a
while rainbows smiled over the valleys. The trail crossed several small streams
and to the right now ran a stone wall. We passed through a gate and had to
negotiate a small section of step rutted slate bedrock to reach the tarmac road.
Dave now wanted to explore and find a trail that was not on
our original route, this of course saw us getting temporarily lost. Well it
wouldn’t be a proper Wales trip unless we got lost, now would it. Finally back
on track we found ourselves following a lovely lane cut into the side of the
mountain lined with large pine trees. The lane came to an end at a large house
but the trail continued through a gate and across a large white bubbling river,
it was a bit of an unknown quantity, but the trail clearly crossed here, it was
just how slippery it was going to be, the whiteness gave away that it wasn’t
that deep. We all made it across safely despite a few having to dab a foot just
to make sure. The trail then climbed steeply up the mountain side. Sometimes exposed
and sometimes through forest. Soon the trail cut through the open mountain top,
brown/green grass lay either side, the water tumbling over the slate bedrock. It
was at this point that the sun tried to make another attempt of showing its
self. Unfortunately it managed too, but at this point it was more of a hindrance
than a help. As we were riding directly into the sun and because it was now
made ten times worse by the fact it was reflecting off of the wet slate and
water. The trail stopped at a main road, the sun now gone but up here on the
exposed mountain top the wind howled.
We turned right on to the road, as we now had to get to the
halfway point to refuel. As we made our way along the road one large gust saw George
get blown from one side of the road to the other. Luckily no other vehicles
were coming the other way. The wind and rain was now relentless and the water
had found its way into every gap in our clothing. At the garage we fuelled the
bikes and ourselves. The day had taken its toll on all of us in one way or another.
We checked the return route and despite all wanting to go on we all decided
that in fact the best and only real option we had was to make our way back to
the hotel via the roads. As the rain eased once more we stared our road ride
back to Llangollen. As we pulled into the small Welsh town for the last time Colin’s
bike started to play up but we had made it. Once again the heavens opened, but
we took shelter in the back of the van and got changed into some warm dry
clothes. With the bikes loaded we took advantage of the hotel’s hospitality one
last time and treated ourselves to a nice hot Sunday roast.
Now all that was left was the long drive home, which
thankfully I didn’t have to worry about as I sat snug in the back. Quick thanks
to Dave for arranging and working out the ride and Colin for doing all the driving.
Saturday night I went to bed still undecided as to whether or
not I would be going. I hadn’t read the post in detail but knew I had to be
there by 10am. Sunday morning I wake at 8.15am not much time to get up, ready
and get there but decided that it was
worth a go. So I quickly downed some breakfast then hunted around the house and
garage, trying to find where I had dumped my riding gear on my return from Wales.
Looking at the time I realised that the original route I was going to take wasn’t
going to be doable. So decided to fuel up at home and take a litre of fuel with
me to make sure I had enough for the day. I also decided to take out a couple
of the more challenging lanes, to save both time and make it a little safer for
myself. 
The morning was chilly but bright, and the ride was going
well, the lanes were quiet and I only had three lanes to go when I saw three or
four fellow bikers heading my way. I took it they were on their way to the Red
Lion pub as well, for the start of the ride. I passed them on the second to
last lane going the other way. I was now on the last lane heading toward the
pub and fully aware of the time and that at any moment there could be dozens of
riders heading my way, so I rode the lane with caution arriving at the pub safely.
Luckily for me the assembly time, not the start time was 10am. So now was a
good time to refuel, not only the bike but myself. So I emptied the litre of fuel that I had brought with me into the tank and had a
nice cup of tea and a lovely bacon roll, which the pub were preparing. 
The lanes were relatively dry and easy to ride, although I was
witness to several offs and watched as some of the more inexperienced riders
followed each other on to the wrong line then struggled in the ruts. But the
lanes passed one by one with no real problems or incident. We had now reached the
end of the last lane before lunch, when I came across a rider with a puncture,
Mario and I explained to him he would be better off freewheeling his bike down
the hill to the pub where he could fix his bike more easily and with help. 
I though wouldn’t be going back all the way. I had decided
that once we’d got to the cross roads I would turn left and head home. I told
the sweeper my plans so he didn’t think I’d gone the wrong way and end up chasing
me. With everyone in a good mood, punctures fixed and everyone back in one
large crowd the lanes just whizzed by and we soon came to the junction where I would
depart for home. There was still plenty of daylight left so I decided to take
the lanes home and make the most of it. Finally the last lane was done and I only
had the ford to contend with. The week’s weather had been fair and the lanes
had mostly been dry and fast, but as I rounded the corner the river was the
highest I’d seen in a long time. I had the option of taking the bridge and I think
if it was the beginning of the day I would have taken it, but it wasn’t. Normally
the river here runs clear and you can see the gravel river bed, but today with
the force of the water it was running a murky brown. So I took the chance and rode the river then
finished the road work home. All in all a nice easy days riding 
