June BaM Done. 6/12 for 2022.
Time was running out for a June BaM so this one had to be a local ride-to-bivvy. To make it more of a "thing", (no, not an adventure, definitely
not an adventure), I hatched a plan to bivvy in a cave not too far from home that my son (the caver) had mentioned, near Bwlchgwyn. His caving club had used it for a Christmas gathering and I resolved to find it. He tried to tell me where it was - couldn't make me understand, but I found a gridref on t' internet. Not very accurate, as it turned out, but after a lot of trundling on forestry tracks and pushing through undergrowth, there it was. I did, at one point, think I'd found a clue when, up a path I came across a pile of pop bottles and beer cans and thought they'd probably been chucked out of the cave mouth (as yobboes do) but after climbing up through heavy undergrowth and rhododendrons it was a false alarm.
Found it..
Cue, the Wedding Cave.....after a lot of wandering around in the valley
To get there, I had pedalled from home, calling at the Black Lion in Bersham ('cause I had to find a toilet, sharpish) before climbing up to Bwlchgwyn for a delicious meal of liver, bacon and onions at the Kings Head. I mention this only because I don't get liver at home because Mrs Frog won't touch it. Anyway, onward.. Beside the road in the village was this..
A local free bookshop in a re-purposed red phone box.
So, back to the cave. A pretty roomy affair this, apparently an ancient mine cut into the side of a valley. Lots and lots of empty tea-lights on every available ledge. Unexpectedly, I found two that were still burning - double depth ones, probably burning since the previous night. Happily I'd chosen
this night for a bivvy and not the previous one. A cave full of partygoers wouldn't have made for a good bivvy. Given that there's so much room, it was quite hard to find somewhere to kip that was even, level, free of stones and bits of broken bottle and dry - it's a cave after all and there's lots of dripping water.
I made a cuppa, had a slurp of whisky and retired for the night for a not-very-good sleep. There was the sound of dripping water of course, but also an occasional sound like someone banging two pebbles together that made me a little uneasy. P'raps it was a knocker, like they say live in Cornish tin mines - I should have left, if not my pasty crust, then half a finger of the Kit-kat that I had with my tea. Aaand, in the morning I could see a greyish white shape on the rock face above my bed. Creepy, until I fully awoke and could see that it was reflected daylight from the cave opening.
It had been a bit of a scramble to reach the cave and I was afraid I'd not be able to get back out with the bike..
This is a flat bit. There was a lot of steep slippery stuff too..
Rather than going back home the same way I'd come I opted to follow some tracks down through the valley.
A pretty river crossing..
Cue the vanishing river...
Now you see me....
Now you don't..
It disappeared into a hole at the bottom of a steep rock face.
Eventually, I was back on tarmac and in Wrexham, stopped at a bacon butty van for a breakfast burger...

before pedalling home.
Konia kują, żaba noge podstawia...