Wales the hard way: Riding the Lôn Las Cymru, May 2019
Sustrans have transformed our cycling network over the last 40 years or so and there are now a growing number of long distance cycle routes to tempt you. One of these is the iconic Lôn Las Cymru, the rather romantically, if bizarrely named Blue Lanes of Wales, or more succinctly NCR8. It is billed as one of the more challenging Sustrans offerings covering some 250 miles from either Cardiff or Chepstow in the south to Holyhead in the north with 3 big mountain ranges to be tackled en route. The route takes in some lovely countryside so there would be plenty of opportunity for the camera (and associated photo stops), and also visits some picturesque towns and villages on the way. It also tracks two of Wales' great rivers, the Wye and the Severn, almost to their source high in the Cambrian mountains. Strangely, Sustrans really don't seem to push this route with an out-of-print guide and outdated maps. Despite that, it is brilliantly waymarked throughout and we certainly had little trouble navigating. I do though wonder why it is that Sustrans choose not to publicise this in the same way as some of their other routes.
Planning
Each year for some time now Helen and I have taken on a touring ride of some description, and these have included the C2C, Way of the Roses, Coast and Castles and the Cheshire Cycleway. This year we looked at something which has been on our radar for some time now, the Lôn Las Cymru (or LLC) and began our planning in earnest deep in the depths of winter. For Helen this was always going to be a step up in terms of the challenge, being both longer and with some serious climbing to be done on the way. From the planning perspective Helen was happy for me to make the necessary preparations so I set to it.
First we needed to make a decision of which way to ride the route – in truth this was easy, the prevailing weather in the UK tends to be from the south-west so riding south to north seemed like a no-brainer. But should we start in Cadiff or Chepstow? Well, to be honest, the notion of riding out through the industrial valleys from the city roads of Cardiff held little appeal, and having grown up in Bristol I have always had a soft spot for Chepstow nestling on the other side of the iconic Severn Bridge. From Chepstow the official route winds up through Usk and Abergavenny and over the Black Mountains, terrain very familiar from my childhood. Decision made then, Chepstow it was.
The next decision was how long we should take to do the ride. From Chepstow it is marginally shorter at 240 miles, or 380km, but the undulating nature of the parcours meant that our typical distances of 90-100km a day on previous tours was both optimistic and unrealistic. In the end after some consideration I felt that the LLC leant itself to a 5-day itinerary with a slightly shorter last day onto Anglesey. Obviously, we also needed to get to Chepstow to actually start the tour, and then get home again from Holyhead, so train journeys would be involved over a total period of 6 days. With reference to a thoroughIy useful (and much moreup to date) Cicerone Guide by Richard Barrett I took to Strava to plan each day's routes and came up with the following daily itinerary.
Day 1: Rail to Newport, then ride Newport to Chepstow (30km)
Day 2: Chepstow to Glasbury-on-Wye (82km)
Day 3: Glasbury to Llangurig (76km)
Day 4: Llangurig to Dolgellau (70km)
Day 5: Dolgellau to Caernarfon (82km)
Day 6: Caernarfon to Holyhead (60km)
Travel to and from Chester was pretty straightforward using Transport for Wales services and, with our Two Together railcard and booking sufficiently ahead we were able to get rail tickets for the grand total of just £52 for the two of us with bikes in tow.
Accommodation was the next key part of the tour and finding suitable overnights was fundamental to the success of our trip. By and large, I looked for B&Bs and tried to keep the costs reasonable, in the end our 5 nights came to a total of Just over £360 which meant our total budget (excluding evening and daytime eats) was just over £400, not entirely unreasonable for a 6 day tour.
Preparation
So much for the bare statistics behind our holiday, obviously what we needed to do now was get ready for it. Riding 50 miles in a day was not a major issue, certainly something perfectly manageable on occasion. What made it harder was doing that day in, day out for 5 or 6 days. Add to that the extra climbing involved on this trip and it was clear that this was going to be a real test for Helen. With a fairly busy life Helen was always going to find it difficult to squeeze in many long rides ahead of our trip. The weather early in the year didn't help either – there's no fun riding in wind, cold and rain. Even I don't do it that much! Well, not any more. We did find the opportunity though for a few longer excursions, notably the CTC's early Spring Trial and a day riding out to Conway, catching the train home so really the perfect trial run in so many ways (apart from perhaps the hills). For my part, a week in Mallorca at the end of April meant I was fine, and well used to riding for days on end. For Helen this really was going to be the challenge.
In terms of gear, we do like to make these trips travelling with as little kit as it's possible to get away with. Obviously a change of clothes come the evening is nice. And a spare set of cycling kit is useful, including a couple of extra bits in case of bad or colder weather, and in any case it's nice to get a change after a few day's in the same shorts and jersey. Throw in a toothbrush and a comb and that's pretty much it. Helen manages to squeeze all of this into a panier-mounted rear bag, I split it between a smaller rear bag and a 5 litre frame bag mounted under the top-tube (therein lies a story as I struggled to find one in time for the trip). I also habitually ride with a small bar bag which I can use for maps, wallet, food, sunblock, camera spares and other odds and sods, including some tools. We each carried a couple of spare inner tubes, just in case. The aim is to only carry stuff which we will actually use during the trip. If we get home and there is something there which has never made it out of the bag then the trick is to make sure we don't do that next time! People continually express surprise that we can travel with so little. I am always surprised as to why people travel with so much!
Getting to the Lôn Las Cymru – Day 1
The big day arrived, mid May and after a prolonged spell of good weather we were hoping for more of the same. Sadly, the forecast wasn't great and, worse still it looked like we would face a headwind for much of the trip. Typical! Anway, no matter, we would manage (he said stoically). We had a train to catch, from Chester, and this meant a gentle start riding down from home to the station. There was a sureal moment as we reached the level crossing at the midway point to find the barriers down and the traffic queued waiting for a train. Surely we wouldn't be denied catching our train by being held up by another train? That would be supremely ironic. Suffice to say, we weren't, and we rolled our bikes onto the plaform in plenty of time to wait for our train to come in from Holyhead. There was a nice symmetry in all this as the train to Newport actually starts its journey in Holyhead. Impressively the train was bang on time and we stowed our bikes in the rather inadequate bike storage racks which trains in this country insist on providing and making our way to our reserved seats. Surely one day the train companies will get the message that it really isn't a great service that they provide for cyclists – a quick look at what is available when travelling on the continent shows just how easy it is to change and improve. Journey time to Newport was about 2½ hours, the line winding its way down the Welsh border countryside stopping at numerous market towns along the way. A buffet trolley serving tea and coffee was welcome and it was pleasant to sit and watch the countryside roll by, something you just can't do when banging up and down our motorways.
Alighting in Newport our first problem was finding our way away from the station. Lack of signage made it an interesting problem, so we opted for the wrong exit and found ourselves in the middle of a big car park with no obvious way out into the streets of Newport. Not a great start! Google Maps to the rescue. Modern phone technology does have its advantages sometimes. Helen was after some lightweight overshoes and there is, curiously, a renowned independent bike shop in Newport not far from the station, namely the South Wales Bicycle Company (well, it sort of rolls off the tongue), which we found quite easily and, even better, it was close to our intended route out of town. The bike shop was a proper LBS, and you can't really beat that for service. Not only did they have a suitable pair of overshoes, they then proceeded to give Helen a substantial discount – it seems they give any cyclist a discount simply for shopping there rather than the big boys. Hope they still make a sufficient profit, but it was certainly much appreciated.
Getting out of Newport wasn't pleasant, especially negotiating a busy motorway interchange, but once out in the country we soon turned off the main A48 and onto a quieter B road taking the slightly less direct route to Chepstow through Magor and Caldicot. After a short distance we came to the intriguingly named Llanmartin where, apart from a bizarre village sign, there was an inviting bench on grass at the roadside which had lunch written all over it. Here we sat with our sandwiches which Helen had been dutifully carrying in a foldaway rucksack (which came in useful later in the trip when shopping for provisions) watching the odd car or van speed pass (despite the village speed limit) and enjoying the warming sunshine. So far, so good. What followed was less pleasant as we soon passed through Magor and, for reasons which were something of a mystery, found ourselves on what was clearly now a busy main road heading for Chepstow (still the same B-road on the map). AND we had an increasing headwind which persisted for the rest of the ride, something which we got very used to through the whole 6 days.
The sting in the tail was when we finally rejoined the main A48 for the last haul and were confronted by a seemingly never-ending steep draggy incline which was made worse by the now ever-present flow of traffic passing us. At the top was a rather modest roundabout which was servicing the Severn Bridge and, given the time of day, was inordinately busy and unpleasant. We safely negotiated the roundabout and now found ourselves on an equally steep hill down into Chepstow town, turning into the town centre and deciding that a stiff coffee was called for. We found a bar on a narrow hilly street heading down to the harbour with seats outside which ticked so many boxes. Time, at last, to relax.
Chepstow can, I guess, quite rightly call itself the first town in Wales, sitting on the mouth of the River Wye where it flows into the Severn, underneath the iconic Severn Bridge. The Wye here is quite spectacular with cliffs on either side and Chepstow's castle perches precariously on the west bank overlooking the Victorian Wye Bridge which used to carry the old A48 until they built the Chepstow by-pass. Our accommodation, the Woodfield Arms, is an old coaching inn dating from 1648 and just near the bridge at the bottom of the town and opposite the castle. Nice location, and we got a warm welcome when we arrived a short while later. Having stowed our bags in our comfortably appointed room overlooking the castle, and with comparatively lightweight bikes we now planned to ride the short distance down the peninsula that juts out between these two mighty British rivers, and to have a close look at the Severn Bridge which carries, for me, so many nostalgic memories. The Sustrans maps include a route brevet card and there is provision to collect a series of stamps along the journey, something we felt would be nice as a souvenir of the trip. According to the card, the first stamp can be obtained at a Chepstow craft shop just next to the Woodfield, but this turns out to no longer be there. We resorted to the Tourist Information office over the road and they were bemused by the whole concept and had no knowledge of the Lôn Las Cymru – an early indicator of just how well publicised this long distance route actually isn't. In the end we compromised and they stamped our two cards with an Offa's Dyke stamp and a Wye Valley Walk stamp. Well, it's kind of the same thing!
Riding over the Wye Bridge we were now in England for the only time on our entire journey, and the road immediately veers upwards before turning and meandering down the peninsula to the lifeboat station which overlooks the murky swirling waters of the Severn and is directly underneath the bridge. On the far side is Aust and away upstream we could clearly see the distinctive buildings of the now defunct Oldbury nuclear power station. Despite this we decided that dipping a toe had to be done to officially mark the start of our long ride to the northernmost tip of Wales. We were off!
Our evening was an active affair, exploring the hilly streets of Chepstow, using a town trail map which we had got from the Tourism office. It had a number of highlighted waypoints and we learnt some of the history of the town, much of which is based on the river and associated trade. Down by the river we came across the Boat Inn and opted for food and a pint to finish our day off, savouring the dreamy taste of Wye Valley Brewery's Butty Bach which I can thoroughly recommend (other beers are available) whilst enjoying watching the fast waters of the Wye as the tide ebbed before our very eyes. A good end to the first day of our journey.
Chepstow to Glasbury-on-Wye – Day 2
Overnight rain was still threatening our day as we woke and breakfasted. The forecast was for it to dry and hopefully we would get lucky. With our loaded bikes now restored to touring status we primed our Garmins and cast a suspicious glance at the dark grey skies as we rolled away from the Woodfield and into Chepstow's rather convoluted one-way system. The main thrust of the whole day was going to be the hills – Sustrans describe the Lôn Las Cymru as a challenging route and this probably understates it a little, depending of course on your ability as a cyclist. Today's ride was following Sustrans National route 42 which eventually would meet up with NCR8 just shy of our overnight stop. It began with a tough grind out of Chepstow, passing the appropriately named Steep Street and heading up Mounton Road before crossing the busy A48 and heading out into open country on the narrow winding roads which epitomise many of Sustrans' routes. The pattern for the day, indeed for much of the entire trip, was the relentless nature of climbing and descending, but initially at least it was predominantly up that we headed, soon reaching the village of Shirenewton and a levelling out along a hilly ridge leading to Coed Gwent, billed as Wales' largest ancient woodland. Bluebells lined the roadside ( a recurring theme throughout the whole trip) and the broadleaf trees gave us some shelter from a light headwind before we plunged down a long steep descent into the delightful Usk valley.
Usk is a small market town which straddles the river and has earned the reputation for floral displays, winning the Wales in Bloom crown on a number of occasions in the past. Riding into town the first thing to strike us was the magnificent wisteria which runs the full length of the town's prison walls, something which demanded a photo. Opposite is a memorial park commemorating the Queen's diamond jubilee in 2012, although it was strangely free of flower displays. Having been riding for a while it seemed like a great opportunity to stop for our first coffee break of the day. Nearby we found the Usk Museum which had a handy café (with fine cake) and added interest with a number of bike artifacts in the museum's displays.
From Usk our route now took us further up the Usk valley, winding up and down the gentle hilly lanes lining the valley to the delightfully named Llanddewi Rhydderch, climbing all the while until such point that we found ourselves up at some 200m and plunging up and down some pretty unforgiving gradients before one final madcap descent into the heart of Abergavenny, which is the gateway to the Black Mountains and is dominated by the shapely Sugarloaf on the western flanks of the town. By now we were ready for lunch and sought out a previous favourite café from a holiday in the area 3 years ago, wonderfully named For the Love of Cake. Sadly it is no more which is a crying shame, but we found instead a few doors away on the main street the rather lovely Victorian Tearooms and settled into a welcome bite along with coffee to replenish our batteries.
On inspecting the Sustrans map during lunch we could see that our onward route out of Abergavenny would take us up what was described as a long steep hill. Surely not, the route seemed to follow the line of the valley. But the map was true to its word and it was indeed long and steep, much to Helen's displeasure. In fact, this was the old main Hereford road which heads up over the eastern flanks of the Sugarloaf and is probably easy enough in a car but on a bike it was hard work. Eventually we crested the ridge and a side road now took us down and into the delightful Vale of Ewyas which would head into the heart of the Black Mountains and eventually over the infamous Gospel Pass.
The road rises gently for several kilometers as it follows the Afon Honddu along the valley floor and winds its way up through steep-sided outliers of the mountain range, growing ever more splendid, with bluebells everywhere. The weather forecast had been changeable and clouds loomed ominously as we reached Llanthony, where the famous 12th century ruined abbey is sited in spectacular and somewhat remote surroundings. Sadly the cellar bar and cafe here was closed so there was no welcome cup of tea to be had here. We took a few photos and enjoyed the space here before heading on some half a mile to the Half Moon pub which was open for business. Cheeky beer time! We sat outside to savour the sourrounding countryside which seems to close in on the pub (in a nice way) and were pleasantly surprised as the sun broke through as if in celebration of our good fortune.
Back on the bikes and with the clouds gathering again we now had the crux of today's ride ahead of us, the road now getting rather tougher up to the tiny hamlet of Capel-y-ffin, where a now closed youth hostel used to sit opposite the old church (which is still there). This is the last stop before the steeper slopes of the Gospel Pass, a 4km climb proper with some very steep ramps near the top, wooded at first and then open as the road nears the top which, at 549m is actually the highest point on the entire Lôn Las Cymru. Time to stop and take it all in, with some lovely views back down the Vale of Ewyas and a very open aspect west over the Wye Valley far below and where we were headed next.
ll that remained now was the long descent to our accommodation, the Black Mountain Lodge, near Glasbury-on-Wye, and I pushed on now to try and make it before the check-in desk became unmanned as promised at 6pm. It was already 5.45 so there was little chance of making it, and the exceddingly steep narrow descent required some measured riding before I was confronted by a tractor and trailer completely filling the road and trying to reverse in the face of an oncoming car whose driver seemed incapable of manoeuvring out of the way. This was all immediately after the two Lôn Las Cymru routes, 42 and 8, combine – we were now on the NCR8 for the rest of our journey. The delaying tractor manoeuvres allowed Helen to rejoin me and we rode down to Glasbury together and into the rather splendid grounds of the Black Mountain Lodge, and what proved to be a comfortable room for the night, even if they had no restaurant and we were faced with the 500m ride down to the nearby pub for tea and a pint. A long hard day was behind us, we had escaped the rain and completed the first leg of our journey. Reason indeed to celebrate.
Glasbury-on-Wye to Llangurig – Day 3
Our second day riding the Lôn Las Cymru was a journey up the Wye Valley, riding within earshot of theriver for pretty much the whole day. After a surprisingly reasonable breakfast we retrieved our bikes from the non-lock-up, strapped on our bags and saddled up. Here goes stage 2. Less than a mile down the hill our route turned right and over the river Wye for the first of many times that day. Here in Glasbury it is mature and wide and meandering its way south toward Chepstow, it would prove interesting to study the changing nature of the water course as we headed upstream toward the Cambrian mountains and the source high on Plynlimmon (not that we would get that far of course!)
The Wye Valley is serviced by the A470 for much of its length, indeed this was a road we would enconter a few times along the way, but fortunately Sustrans kept us away from this busy road and instead, as is their wont, used minor roads to follow much the same route, in this case a B-road on the eastern side of the river. The wide valley is essentially pastural and sheep and cattle grazed the fields (and the road in the case of two errant sheep early on). We enjoyed views back to the Black Mountains, and the clear divide where the Gospel Pass comes through. The camera is handy as it allowed us opportunities to stop awhile and enjoy the views and soak up the ambience of countryside, something we should all take time to do when touring through strange lands. After some 15km we arrived at the now derelict station of Erwood, on the old Mid Wales Railway (presumably a victim of Mr Beeching and his infamous axe), and which now sports a craft shop and a café – perfect place to take our first unscheduled coffee stop. This was another place where we could supposedly get our brevet cards stamped, but the woman in the craft centre soon put us right on this – clearly this initiative was not going to get off the ground and at this point we pretty much gave up the idea which was a great shame. Anway, we enjoyed our coffee and browsed the craft shop which looked, shall we say, hellish expensive – it was a good job we are travelling light!
In true Sustrans style, our route onwards began to undulate rather more as we got nearer to Builth Wells, with some decidedly sporting little ramps which got the heartrate going! The Wye valley is still wide here and once again we picked up part of the old Mid-Wales Railway to roll into Builth itself where sort of festival seemed to be going on. Builth is a typical Welsh market town, straddling the Wye and has a fine old road bridge aross the river. The town has some striking buildings and a winding main street where we went in search of our second coffee stop of the day, this time a scheduled one. As we rode up the main street the Drovers Tearooms and courtyard had our name on it and we pulled into the courtyard to see what they could offer us. Good cake was the answer and we enjoyed a splendid half hour in te slightly decadent but olde world surroundings. Well worth the stop.
According to the Sustrans description the route from Builth becomes more challenging with some pointy bits as we continued to avoid the A470. Although only some 12km, the alternative route to Newbridge was harder work, although it did offer some striking views towards the hills which seemed to be becoming ever more prevalent all around us. Crossing the Wye yet again we eventualy rolled down into Newbridge (Bontnewydd) and our lunch appointment at the only pub in town, the imaginatively named New Inn. It wasn't! Nor, sadly, was it the best choice we made on this trip. Time ebbed as we sat and waited for what turned out to be incredibly uninspiring soup and sandwiches, wondering how it managed to take them quite so long to heat up a can of Heinz Tomato soup. At least the beer was quaffable, but with some heavy miles still in front of us we were keen to get on our way. The clock was ticking.
Out of Bontnewydd the route took us away back over the Wye onto a small road which follows the west bank of the river and, you'd never guess, it went up. What followed was decidedly less suitable for a road bike, indeed it is the only part of the Lôn Las Cymru where something more gritty would be appropriate, described by Sustrans as rough and muddy when wet. The route joins an ancient coach road which is truly lumpy in places, more mountain bike territory to be fair. In parts the only option really was to get off and walk. It is a short stretch, however, only a couple of miles and we were soon back on tarmac again and headed for the Elan valley where a series of reservoirs cascade down the valley from the high moors to supply water to Birmingham. Our route skirted the lower reaches of the valley, so it will have to wait for another time. Instead we were sent up another hellishly steep hill bound for Elan village and the old railway track into Rhayader. By now tempus was well and truly fugiting and we wondered if we would find a teashop open. We stumbled, quite by chance, across the Lost Arc, a theatre renovation project which includes a wholefood café AND they were still prepared to serve us coffee and cake. How good was that? (Answer – very!)
Less than 10 miles now, but it was still a tough parcours, the roads getting ever more hilly as we now entered what can only be described as the Wye gorge, as the river narrowed and cut through the ever-rising hills. It was pretty and colourful, but hard work. This stretch of the day took us close to the site of Nant y Dernol youth hostel, scene of erstwhile exploits when I was on a cycling holiday back in 1974 with two school buddies. The hostel closed in 1987, perhaps unsurprisingly as it was remote and pretty basic. Riding into the hamlet of Dernol I stopped awhile and reflected on past adventures before catching Helen up again. Yet again, perhaps even more than yesterday, bluebells were a big feature of our ride, with big patches along the roadside and in nearby fields adding a splash of colour to the surroundings. Finally, as the clock was ticking round toward 6.30, the village of Llangurig hove into view and away to our left, up the hillside we spied a large Victorian lodge which we both felt was probably our destination, the delightful Clochfaen, a half-timbered old ramshackle looking cottage. Truly a welcome in the hillside!
There was a splendid welcome from our host, with fresh coffee and homemade biscuits, and a chance for a hot shower and resting of weary legs, after a tough and hilly 72km. It had been a lovely journey, though, despite the terrain, enjoying the metamorphosis of the River Wye from its mature stretches down near Hay to a wilder more rugged infancy up here on the flanks of the Plynlimmon hills. Our accommodation was about a mile out of Llangurig village which meant a gentle stroll down the road for our evening meal and a very welcome beer (or two) to finish off a hard day.
Llangurig to Dolgellau – Day 4
The third day of the Lôn Las Cymru was undoubtedly the crux, the wildest and toughest stage of the route. Today we were facing three big climbs over serious mountain terrain before dropping back down to sea level at Dolgellau. After that the terrain would be rather easier, something to look forward to. The weather forecast was improving and, after two rather grey (but dry) days we could expect some sunshine and improved temperatures, even if the wind direction was still against us. After a rather tasty breakfast which included some fresh fruit, something which had been missing from our diet previously on the trip, and more of that excellent coffee, we repacked the bikes ready for the day ahead which was starting, unsually for this trip, with several miles of downhill as we now said goodbye to the River Wye and crossed over into the Severn valley for the next phase of our ride. Being early on a Sunday morning we opted to deviate from the official Sustrans route which had us going up yet another hill out of Llangurig, going instead for the main A470 road to Llanidloes, comparatively fast and direct although perhaps busier than we might have expected for 9.30 on a Sunday morning. By contrast, Llanidloes was not busy on a Sunday, indeed it resembled a bit of a ghost town. Some interesting period architecture dominated the main streets as we explored the town in search of an open supermarket to get a few supplies (where we were headed there would be few opportunities for food or refreshment).
Now we headed up again as we turned north-west onto a narrow valley road, which winds gently up the Severn valley and headed into the Hafren Forest, a large expanse of upland forestation planted back in the 1930s and now a bit of a leisure playground with walking and mountain bike trails. The riding was pleasant, punctuated by the occasional steep pitch and we gradually climbed toward the 400m summit. Having found myself reminiscing yesterday about my youth hostelling cycling holiday some 45 years ago, today was a reprise of another leg of that trip and I recounted some of the adventure to Helen as we rode. By some rather bizarre and surreal coincidence reality was suspended when I stopped for the umpteenth time for a photo opportunity just as a group of 4 cyclists passed us, the last of whom came to an abrupt halt and shouted out my name much to my surprise. I turned to look and, after a double take, realised it was none other than Martin, my erstwhile best mate from school and one of the two lads I had ridden with all those years ago. What are the chances of that? Time to buy a lottery ticket I think. By now Helen and Martin's mates had ridden on round the next corner and we were left alone, standing at the side of the road unable to quite believe this was happening. We pedalled on now, slowly, catching up in more ways than one as we exchanged our tales of how come we happened to be here, now. After grabbing a photo of the two of us for old times sake we went our separate ways again, unable to quite comprehend what had just happened.
Soon after this encounter and, after a brief stop at the Hafren Visitor Centre to apply sunblock on this unexpectedly sunny morning, we topped out and headed out of the Severn valley after a brief but enjoyable visit and down past Llyn Clyweddog to meet the main B road from Llanidloes not far from the delightfully named Staylittle (which sadly we didn't pass through). Our time on this road was brief, however, as almost immediately we turned off again on the “narrow mountain road” to Machynlleth. Helen looked horrified. More climbing then!
The road starts off anything but narrow and winds up through the intriguingly named community of Dylife, overlooking the spectacular Dylife Gorge, before levelling past some quarry workings and then rising again as the high moors of Foel Fadian loom and the highest point of the Lôn Las Cymru outside the Black Mountains, topping out at some 525m. The sun was shining, however, and the views were extensive as we inched our way up onto the moors where the road finally matched the specification and narrowed and we stopped for a breather and to soak up the 360 degree vistas. What followed was quite possibly the most enjoyable 13 kilometers of road on the entire route, a 500m plunge down to Machynlleth on good fast roads, the gradients never excessively steep, and with views of the Snowdonia ranges to distract the unwary. About 1km off the top stands a memorial to Wynford Vaughan Thomas, with views to match the location. A solitary walker was enjoying his lunch when we pulled up and disturbed him, and we enjoyed a meandering conversation about tramping the various hills we could see to the north – it seems he had done most of them. Or had he? We left him to his sandwich and continued with the lovely descent - even Helen seemed to be enjoying herself and she doesn't really do downhill. All too soon we were reaching the outskirts of Machynlleth and were starting to think seriously about some lunch and a break – so far today we hadn't really had a proper stop, preferring to push on and get the bulk of the day's riding behind us.
Machynlleth is a modest sized town in the heart of mid-Wales, but has ambitions. It has twice tried to get itself upgraded to city-status which I imagine they felt would befit the ancient capital of Wales. In truth it is not a large town and we were keen to ride through, heading for the Centre for Alternative Technology which is situated some 3km beyond town on the Dolgellau road up toward Corris, where the café is renowned. Once again, however, the clock was ticking and we did wonder whether we would make it in time for a late lunch, especially as, in true Sustrans style, our road out of Machynlleth immediately reared upwards after we crossed the river Dovey. We needn't have worried, the place was still serving food when we arrived and we enjoyed the short funicular ride up to the CAT village and set into a welcome feast of baked potato, cake and coffee.
Suitably refuelled we now girded our loins for one last haul over the next (and final) mountain range, the northern flanks of Cadair Idris where the slate quarries dominate the scenery and the colour of the landscape is suitably grey. NCR8 follows a narrow road to Corris, mirroring the busy A470 which was on the other side of a steep mountain stream, before we veered off to the north-east up into the hills to Aberllefenni, a mining village in the heart of the mountains with a mining history dating back to 1500. Now our route took on an altogether wilder character, heading north up and over Mynydd y Waun by a narrow, rough, gated road whose surface deteriorated quite dramatically. Pine forest surrounded us to begin with but this got patchier as we got higher and then the road got steeper. And steeper. I confess I would not have fancied doing the Lôn Las Cymru north-south, coming down this road would be entirely unpleasant, especially with a laden bike. Fortunately for us, once we finally reached the top, another gate barring the way, the descent on the north side was nothing like as fearsome and, with care, we were soon down crossing the A470 and feeling that the end of our day was near.
The last part of the ride was all downhill into Dolgellau, following first of all a rather delapidated section of road through farmland where it was clear the landowners weren't welcoming as it was strewn with rocks and fallen trees making navigation rather interesting. More bluebell woods and a final fast descent overlooking the Mawddach Estuary and Dolgellau brought us, finally, to our destination, the delightfully eccentric Ty Seren B&B in the centre of town and a welcome lie down after a pretty epic 72km. Once we had recovered sufficiently we were joined by friends Pete and Sharon, who were planning to join us for the following morning's ride but who now came to take us out to dinner up the road in a pub overlooking the river and we enjoyed a pleasant evening with food, beer and friends recounting our adventures so far.
Dolgellau to Caernarfon – Day 5
We awoke to sunny skies, it looked like the weather gods were on our side at last! After another fine breakfast served up by our hosts we loaded the bikes up once more, ready for a long day ahead, some 82km, probably the longest day of our trip. The day began with possibly the easiest stretch of the entire ride, a 16km spin down to Barmouth using the Mawddach Trail, a disused railway track along the south banks of the Mawddach Estuary. As we headed out of Dolgellau moody clouds swirled round the summit of Cadair Idris which towers above the town, but our path was in dappled sunlight in the trees as we headed toward Penmaenpool where Pete and Sharon were waiting to join us. The tide was high and there was a surreal air to our ride as the embankment path was surrounded on both sides by tidal water. Ahead of us the famous Barmouth viaduct snaked across the wide mouth of the estuary, linking Fairbourne and Barmouth on the Welsh coastal line. There is a pedestrian and cycling path which shares the wooden bridge with the railway line and makes for an interesting crossing. Soon we were clattering our way across the viaduct and into sunny Barmouth where we all agreed that a coffee break was due. We sat outside a café overlooking the estuary waters to the viaduct and the moody slopes of Cadair Idris, enjoying the sunshine and the moment.
Suitably refreshed we headed out from Barmouth, along the prom before joining the busy A496 road for an enforced 5km or so before Sustrans took us off into the hills – no surprises there! A narrow road heads up from Dyffryn Ardudwy through farmland and into the Rhinogs, a rugged and wild expanse of mountain country which remains relatively undiscovered. Today the views were expansive and glorious, but all too soon we were returning to the main A496 at Llanbedr, only to almost immediately turn off again and repeat the process. Once back on the A496 we were now approaching Harlech and its spectacular castle, set atop crags lending it a spectacular position with views across to Snowdonia and the Lleyn Peninsula. All that remained was another hill taking us up and then down into Harlech central, where it was easy to spot the castle which rather dominates the town. Harlech is also home to what is claimed to be the world's steepest street and a roadsign proclaiming the 40% slopes gives some credence to that claim. I for one would NOT be riding up or down that street today! Instead we headed for our lunch at the Caffi Castell. The sun was shining, the views were spectacular and lunch was all rather good as we sat on the terraces and soaked it all up.
Harlech was also where Pete and Sharon were leaving us, heading back to Barmouth whilst we continued our adventure north. For Helen and myself our road ahead now deviated (again) from the recommended Sustrans route which heads steeply up over moors, a hill (or two) too far. Instead, from the castle we enjoyed a pleasant few kilometers as the road gently descended back down to sea level and we joined up with the A496 once again to speed up the coast, rejoining NCR8 at the busy river Dwyryd road/rail crossing and into Penrhyndeudraeth. We opted to stay on the main road and head directly to Porthmadog rather than meander in the hills to the north. It was busy but soon we were joining the dedicated cycle path across the Cob, also known as Britannia Terrace, a man-made crossing shared with the road and the Ffestiniog Railway and surrounded by water. Once again the views of Snowdonia were a big distraction! Porthmadog is the terminus of both the Ffestiniog and Welsh Highland railways and is something of a tourist destination as well as being a popular sailing harbour. We opted for an ice-cream and sat by the harbour in the sunshine for a while.
The next part of the route was an optional detour for us, as we were looking to avoid the Sustrans detour to Criccieth and the Lleyn Peninsula. Instead our route, now signed with brackets, was taking us north onto the higher moorland which crosses the fringe of the Lleyn west of Snowdonia, rejoining NCR8 on the Lôn Eifion, a long stretch of disused railway to Caernarfon. On paper this alternative looked straightforward but proved in practice to be the most testing part of the day as once again a lot of hills were involved and the narrow roads were continually plunging and rising across very undulating countryside. We could see the Lôn Eifion away to the left, the other side of the main A487 Caernarfon road but were thwarted every time it seemed to be within our grasp, our road taking us back up another hill and away again. Eventually after far too many of these we finally found a steep hill which took us down to cross the A487 and through some farmland and, finally, we were on the Lôn Eifion. Being a railway track the gradients from here onwards were never testing and finally we were able to enjoy the last part of the day as we cruised rather wearily down into Caernarfon, the cycle route bringing us out next to the Welsh Highland railway terminus and within spitting distance of the famous castle. Our accommodation was the Anglesey Arms which is built into the town walls right next to the castle, a spectacular setting and easy to find. Sadly, as accommodation goes, it rather left a bit to be desired but the food and beer were welcome, especially after such a long day in the saddle.
Caernarfon to Holyhead – Day 6
We awoke to sunny blue skies, it looked like the weather gods were on our side at last! The view out over the Menai was very inviting, and Anglesey was calling us. Just one more push now to the finish, Helen's legs were feeling the cumulative effect of 5 days punishing riding so far, although at least today was shorter and less punishing. After a pretty average breakfast we quickly got the bikes ready and set off, riding through the walls and past the castle just as the day's first tourist busload came round the corner, phone cameras primed for photo opportunities. Out of town we were directed to the Lôn Las Menai, another old railway trackbed now converted to cycle path usage and this took us the 7km or so along the banks of the Menai to Port Dinorwic. This was Helen's moment of reminiscence as her grandparents had lived here when she was young and she recalled family holidays when the Armstrong kids would play in and around the Dinorwic mine railway. In its day Dinorwic was the second largest opencast slate quarry in the country. Much has changed since and Port Dinorwic has morphed into a sailing marina these days.
We didn't have much more cycling on the mainland now, passing the impressive walls of Vaynol Hall and negotiating an unpleasant main road drag before we finally reached the architecturally elegant Menai Suspension Bridge, a grade 1 listed building and World Heritage Site designed by Thomas Telford back in 1826 to replace the ferry crossing over the dangerous Menai Straits which swirl below. After a few photos we rode onto the cyclepath which crosses the bridge and a couple of minutes later we were on Anglesey. The home straight was in sight. Well, sort of!
Eschewing the Sustrans options we instead now rode up the main A5 and into LlanfairPG, the self-styled village with the longest name, conjured up in the 1860s to attract tourists arriving on the new railway. The James Pringle craft shop was crammed with coachloads of tourists stocking up with souvenir tat adorned with said long name printed all over, and at the same time ignoring the lovely old station house on the platform where we were able to take photos unencumbered by people. It was rather sad actually, people were steadfastly ignoring the real heritage of the village preferring instead the retail experience – although it did mean we had the station to ourselves which was rather nice. We retired to a pub over the road for coffee and the chance to observe the comings and goings of the coaches and their charges as they jostled for space in the car park. I'm not sure LlanfairPG has retained its charm.
Our route soon took us off the A5, for which we were truly grateful, and onto minor roads for much of the remainder of the ride to Holyhead. We passed through the intriguingly named Llandaniel Fab and continued to head now south-west away from Holyhead but with extensive views of both the hills on the Lleyn Peninsula and the Snowdonia mountains away to our left which continually drew the eye. Up to Llangaffo and immediately down again, in true Sustrans style. We now headed north-west as we rode out over Malltraeth Marsh, a large flatland area on the west side of Anglesey which attracts many birds to its wet grasslands. Soon, though, we were climbing again up to Bethel where a swooping downhill gave us our first glimpse of distant Holyhead Mountain. Up and down our route continued on narrow winding lanes through pleasant if unexciting countryside until we came to the RAF Valley airbase which used to be a base for RAF search and rescue helicopters involved in mountain rescue operations across the Menai, until its disbanding in 2015. A sad day.
It wasn't far now, and for once we were ahead of the clock so by the time we arrived in Valley village we had plenty of time for a relaxed lunch (and cheeky beer) at the Valley Hotel, a place we stayed in some years ago on our way to Ireland. We sat in the warm sun and ate and drank and reflected on our journey now the end was nigh. From here it was only about 5km to go and we headed out over our second Cob in two days and onto Holyhead Island. The Sustrans route now dived into Penrhos woods and we soon found ourselves riding offroad on mud and gravel, whilst a cyclepath was just yards away from us next to the A5 on the other side of a fence. A bizarre moment. Out of the woods we were now directed through a housing estate and down into the romantic environs of Holyhead Ferry Port which marks the official end of the Lôn Las Cymru cycle route. There was no sign, no plaque on a wall. Even the Sustrans map description is low key. To call it an anti-climax would be an understatement but we somehow cobbled together a photo opportunity to commemorate our completion of this fine challenge and went into the tourist information office to buy a celebratory ice-cream. It somehow seemed the right thing to do. We went and sat overlooking the harbour in the sunshine, next to railway station where our train back to Chester was waiting for us, pondering the enormity of what we had achieved.
The train journey home was a relaxed affair as we watched the north Wales coast speed by and before long we were wheeling our bikes out from Chester station with the prospect of (still) another 12km riding to get home. In truth it was easy enough, just tedious as mentally we were already done with the Lôn Las Cymru. All that remained was a beer or two and a curry to celebrate.
Reflections
Riding the Lôn Las Cymru has indeed been a challenging adventure. In total we clocked up 444km on the bikes in 6 days (and that doesn't include the train journeys) and racked up 6035m of ascent – that's a lot in anybody's book. The Sustrans route lives up to its billing. It is indeed challenging but it is beautiful, quiet (mainly) and an intriguing journey right through the very heart of Wales. Signage is brilliant throughout but, for me, the bizarre thing is that it is a route that Sustrans completely undersells. We passed a few cyclists riding it, mostly from the north, but many of the places we stopped at en route were completely unaware of the Lôn Las Cymru (and probably Sustrans) which is a crying shame. Compared to the C2C or Way of the Roses this seems like a long lost brother. I'm rather glad we found it because it has been a cracking adventure and once Helen has recovered it will give us enthusiasm to go on yet more cycling adventures.