Right then, bike cleaned, body cleaned, kit cleaned.......
I was absolutely clear that this time I’d only have a pint at the Wynnstay and be in bed by 10pm. Had a very pleasant evening as usual chatting to all the family, including Verena, Peter, Allen, Eugene, JC, Nige, Josh and the Porthcawl Posse, etc.
Was in bed by 12.30am after four pints. Sigh.
In the morning it was nice to see all the usual crowd at the school but we didn’t hang around and set off up the 1300’ climb to Glaslyn via….
… the Twymyn viewpoint… “they went thataway”…
… and Penycrocbren.. “or maybe it was thataway”….
… and everyone’s favourite bridge at Dyfngwm
Then the usual route round past Bugeilyn across the desolate wastes then down into Mynydd Bychan. The track back out up to Foel Fras has had all the trees cleared so the horrifying climb is revealed in all its nightmare splendour
However the reward at the top is well worth it… looking north back down towards Machynlleth:
…and Pumlumon in the other direction. Savour the silence….
Bumped into Allen and his band of merry bikepackers at Llyn Penrhaeadr who were taking a somewhat circuitous route to their luxury bivvy spot
The idea was then to head down into Artists Valley to visit one of our two GRs. Lots of discussion ensued weighing up the merits of fireroad versus a Restricted Byway. The RB won the day and turned out to be a fun technical downhill with lots of water runoff cracks and chasms to keep us interested. On the way to the RB we passed Llyn Conach, a remote mini-lake and oasis of peace and quiet basking in the late afternoon sun. The lads pose for a picture - I like this one as it encapsulates what a great bunch of folks BBB is - although Reg finds it harder than he thought to paddle a half-submerged dinghy out onto the lake using a plank of wood. Silly boy.
So, down the RB and through our first tussockfest into Artists Valley
We knew that our main destination of the weekend was likely to be somewhat soggy, so we came prepared, Reg with a couple of binliners for his legs, but Kev far more impressively provided for with some lightweight “wellies” that he’d bought decades ago but never found a use for. Stu and Dee’s special “gift” for this year’s event was an excellent little credit card sized powerbank with a plug-in LED light, which make me think that they knew at least one group of nutcases knew exactly where they were heading for – and that they would need power to see power!

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Suitably kitted up we headed into the old lead mine to view one of the country’s most stunning artefacts – an underground waterwheel which used to pump water out of a deep shaft next to it. It’s one of only two left in the whole of the UK (well, four as of last Autumn with two more discovered in a mine near Aberystwyth) and is remarkably well-preserved 150 years after falling into disuse. We thought it would be well worth trying to restore it and get it generating power again – a quick squirt of WD40 would soon do it I reckon. We spent a lot of time nosing around underground and came out marvelling at the tenacity of the miners who seemed to go to any lengths to follow up speculative ventures, in most cases ending up with little to show for it. How do you make a small fortune out of lead mining in Powys? Start with a large fortune. We'd hoped to ride the bikes through the long entrance adit and pose them next to the wheel but it turned out to be a little more difficult than we thought. Missed opportunity, sadly!
By now it had got dark so we headed for Borth and a nice dinner, via Ynyslas to see if we could find a bivvy spot. After passing up a particularly playful bus-shelter with room for four, we settled upon the visitors centre which I’d enjoyed a few years back. First it was time for a few beers and a meal in the pub, where we baffled the locals as usual. I was a bit wrecked and subdued after a strenuous day but the other lads chatted various people up including a couple who’s hobby was driving vintage tractors around the country. However even I perked up after Sharon declared that she’d "like to warm me up". The other chaps swear that she actually said she’d like to warm my
pandas up, but why on earth would she want to do that eh? Anyway, I politely declined her kind offer and we wandered back along the beach road to the visitors centre. Last time I'd ridden this road was in a torrential storm and 50mph+ winds. Plenty of room for all of us, but rock-hard Kev headed for the dunes where we found him frozen solid next morning at 6am. You can see the outline of his bivvy bag – I thought it looked like those white outlines that the police draw round the location of dead bodies!
The rest of us slept fairly well although the morning revealed a scene looking like underneath the railway arches at Waterloo railway station…
There was even a defib machine in case Lu had one of his turns in the night. It was tempting to use it anyway to jolt him awake in the morning – that would have been a pretty impressive use of “power” and would have seen him “ranging” across the dunes lit up like a Christmas tree!
It was pretty nippy getting down to about -3c and I didn’t bother whipping any upper clothes off: bamboo baselayer, two fleeces and a Ghost Whisperer down jacket. Didn’t overheat despite the -9c PHD Hispar 400. Circulation must be getting worse with old age – what on earth am I doing at the grand old age of 65? Should be nodding off in a chair in a carehome instead of freezing out here in the dunes. We had a nice lie-in until 8am just in time for the visitors centre lady to turn up. She didn’t bat an eyelid, asked us if we’d slept well, and said would we like a cup of tea! So we sat there in the early morning sun telling each other how fantastic life is and profusely thanking Stu and Dee for providing us with the “power” to get out and enjoy all this. You can stuff the care home!! My other, admittedly somewhat eccentric, clothing choices worked perfectly as usual: sandals and waterproof socks, washing up gloves, etc etc.
Just before we departed I really wasn’t looking forward to putting my freezing socks back on (spare pair was the only thing I forgot – nitwit!), but someone had the brainwave of microwaving them in the café. I took the slightly less drastic step of filling them with hot water in the toilet, which worked a treat!
Unfortunately, unless you head back over the mountain via Anglers Retreat again, the other main way back to Mach is along the main road – not much fun, but we livened it up by stopping at yet another source of “power”: the (outdoor!) waterwheel at Furnace, which was used for iron-smelting purposes.
Another quick stop near Ynyshir osprey reserve gave Lu and myself one of our “ahhhh” moments as we spent a few minutes gazing across the peaceful sunlit estuary towards Aberdyfi.
Upon arrival at Mach we headed straight for the White Lion and second breakfast. Oh. The bad news: they’d just stopped doing breakfast. Ah! The good news: they’d just started doing Sunday lunch! I had some very nice veggie sausages with gravy, mash, peas and a rare appearance of mashed swede. There was also a mini-Yorkshire pud with a tiny "toad" in it.
Time was moving on so we ought to do the same. The choice was back via the lane north of the Dyfi and the bridleway to Commins Coch, but MuddyPete hadn’t done the forest road behind Stu’s before so we headed off up the long drag through Forge and the mountain road. Fun was had crossing the ford at Rhoswydol Mine, then over the pass into Stu’s valley where we screamed down the long fire road as a sort of “grand finale”.
A quick stop at the “seat of power” and away down the road back to the school to be one of the last back, for tea and toast and cake.
What can one say? An absolutely superb weekend, yet again, in fantastic company – thank you Lu, Kev and Pete for putting up with my ridiculous hare-brained schemes and my smelly socks. I’m sure I’ve left out some of the most embarrassing moments (at my expense obviously) so hopefully they’ll be along to chip in! Thank you to them for providing many of the above photos.
THANK YOU STU AND DEE FOR ALL YOUR HARD WORK, YOU HAVE GIVEN MY 2024 A FLYING START!
PS> Blame Stu for the origin of my above ravings - it's all his Volt, ho ho ho
