. Good to see you again chap. Things got a bit surreal when Sammy arrived and told us all about the “yurt city” he’d found nearby – wall-to-wall luxury but nobody around at all so he could explore the whole place. At least we'll know where to bivi next time. I started to lose track a bit after he found the saxophone in a ditch or something. Again, good to meet you Sammy. A nice natter with MarkW as well, then.. oh.. it’s 1am!Enjoyed Dee’s toast next morning, while waiting for SteveMorg, Pickers and Nick. Steve texted to say his work Do had been somewhat over-convivial so he was Out, then Pickers and Nick stopped for a twelve-course Little Chef brekkie or something, so we didn’t get going until 11am. There was never any chance of getting to The Cafe first, and I’d thought it would be fun to go for the consolation prize and be last – already well on track for that then
. MarkW was going to tag along, but took a better offer instead, so we were down to four already.Half way up the road we bumped into Steve Notinabox and his lad Dillon, and convinced them that the Carno windfarm route would be easy and totally straightforward so they misguidedly joined us – obviously presumably not having heard of our reputation beforehand! Things were fairly vertical up to the farm, and superbly remote around the tops, with a number of temporary location displacements, meaning arrival in Llanidloes was a rather late 3pm. A quick morale-boosting brew in the cafe and we progressed on into the murk.
Ignoring the dispiriting road route to Tylwch, we headed south round the river to find that the planned cheeky “footpath” had miraculously turned into a farm track, and Bigdummysteve found yet another bike to add to his collection:
As expected, we were last into the cafe along with Matt, finally leaving at 6.20pm with Panda literally the last customer out of the door as Belinda was shutting up shop. MarkW joined us after he found that the mob he was with were far too slow
.
No such thing as "too much cake"...
Up into the mist and drizzle over the hill to Rhayader, by which point we’d all cranked ourselves up for the nice log fire, beers and food in the Triangle Inn. Only to find that Scott, Mike & Co had “stolen” our table
. Sigh. I remembered that the Elan Valley Hotel outside town purveyed nice food – and indeed the good news was the menu was excellent, the bad news being it was shut. Back we go to town again, diverting via the old railway trail. In the usual BBB fashion, something good came out of the adversity as we spied an excellent bivi spot for later meaning no need for the nearby wood that we’d originally earmarked. It was amazing how un-keen the good burgers of Rhayader were to relieve us of our cash – first of four places: “well.. maybe.. but the staff are a bit, er...”, third one: “ohhhhh alright then, I suppose so...”. We finally ended up in the pizza joint where they were pleased to see us. After some reflection, we decided that our previous lack of success may not have been entirely unconnected with Reg recce-ing each establishment with a panda on his head, wearing two pairs of glasses, and reeking of farmyards (although isn't the latter a surefire aphrodisiac in these parts, never mind a good ice-breaker in restaurants?).We returned to our bivi spot and crashed out about 10.30pm:
By the morning the townsfolk had presumably got used to us, because one place with a roaring fire let us in for a second breakfast. As it turned out this was handy, because Dillon had a puncture which we fixed by the fire using a couple of teaspoons as tyre levers. A spare tube was obtained from Mr Powell’s place down the street, with plenty of extra impulse-buying going on as well. The “back road” to Llangurig was a pleasant start to the day, with some superb scenery until, just after being overtaken by Mr Barter and Chickenlegs, it was my turn to have a puncture. Maybe I’ll change my mind about this new-fangled tubeless business.
Whilst I was battling with my flat (thanks for the big pump BDS), Scott turned up and it was decided that a brew was a satisfactory addition to the proceedings. All went well until Steve’s gas stove suddenly burst into flames in his hand, but curiously blowing hard on it just seemed to compound the problem
. After we all rudely rejected Steve’s proposed game of pass-the-parcel (“parcel bomb”?!), and moved rapidly in the direction of “away”, he dumped it in the road and we all awaited the inevitable explosion. Strangely it never happened and we all lived to tell the tale.
After all the excitement, the usual route up into Hafren was a welcome breath of beautifully remote scenery – one never gets tired of it.
Final arrival at Llanbrynmair was about 5pm – again, pretty much the last contestants, sigh! MarkW and myself had diverted down the Twymyn bridleway which was a spectacular finish to a fantastic weekend. As usual, brilliant company made the whole thing a great larf and a good team-spirit. Respect to Steve for bringing Dillon along to join in the fun - lovely to meet you guys - and thank you to Dillon himself for not showing us old codgers up too much with his admirable prowess!!
Huge thanks again to Stu and Dee - "without whom this would not have happened"
‘Reg’
I remember as a young nipper (under 11 as before we moved house) I used to wait outside the offie when mum went in to get her Guinness. These day's she just writes it on her shopping list and I deliver it