WE 2022
Posted: Tue Jan 11, 2022 4:09 pm
Don't seem to have one yet so may as well as get the ball rolling with a thread for anyone who has a few moments to tell us their slightly longer tales of skill and daring from the Winter Event 2022....
An uneventful train journey dumped me at Caersws last Friday, for the 90 minute ride to Staylittle. A refreshment stop at Trefeglwys meant I could pop in to a potential bivvy spot I’ve seen a few times, and this time they’d made a few improvements so I stayed a bit longer to relax on the wrecked sofa and watch an episode of Blankety Blank [Screen]…
After a bit of loin-girding it was up and over from Llawryglyn to Staylittle. The time I can’t get up this particular nasty hill without stopping is the time to pack it all in I reckon. Just made it, to be greeted by a dusting of snow on the tops, the only snow of the weekend for me even though not the highest location.
Had arranged to meet Verena at Staylittle Stores for a brew but unfortunately Circumstances meant that Nick wasn’t doing drinks at the moment
. We had to content ourselves with various other comestibles and I took the opportunity to buy a new ride mascot – Myfanwy the red dragon. Verena was staying the night at Hafren Bunkhouse so I cheekily followed her on my bike on an unplanned diversion to blag a brew there instead. Sarah and Darren were very welcoming and brews flowed, and this also helped to while away the time until the Wynnstay opened at 7pm. I’d intended to ride down the hill but Verena kindly offered me a lift in her snazzy electric car. A very pleasant evening was passed with various illuminati including Our Dave, Chickenlegs, Les, Allen, Trep, Bearlegged, Ben, Sam, JC and many others. There was a great atmosphere, with lots of banter and p1ss-taking, and I commented that it was just like being one big eccentric family gathering. What a great bunch. Andy Roobell7 rolled up at midnight for a last minute booking so we were the last out of the bar at 1am, oops. Pauline was great, she soon got the measure of us, although I had to remind her several times that I was quite happy to actually pay for all my drinks, food and bed as she kept forgetting 
.
Next morning Andy joined Bearlegged, FrogAtTheFarriers and myself on our trip to see the Northern Lights. It was interesting to see Andy’s singlespeed fat bike and watch how it performed compared to our more standard machinery – more than capably as it turned out! Off we went up the lane north from Llanbrynmair into the pouring rain and wind, but deciding this was far too easy we took a right up the side valley of the Afon Cwm to climb 1000’ onto the remote moor above.
Keen students of 1960’s children’s television programmes will understand the pun behind this photograph, albeit slightly inverted…..
The ford at Clegyrnant farm was running very high so we wimped out and used the bridge instead, followed by the long climb up to and past the remotely situated Llyn Gwyddior. The climb continues up to 500 metres where the temperature dropped close to freezing, but at least the reward is a massive drop down the fire roads to the A458.
We were keen to cross the A458 to explore up the Afon Clywedog. No, not that Afon Clywedog. Or that one. This one is one of the shortest rivers in Wales, but very remote with no roads or habitation along it. It also has a lot of four-letter words beginning with F. Yes, Fords. By the end of this stretch, other four letter F words had come into play due the previous heavy rain. Still, the views were sensational.
We were just in time to enjoy a pleasant late lunch at the Caffi’r Hen Siop in Dinas Mawddwy, where the proprietress made us feel very welcome, so much so that we stayed for a good hour or so before setting off into the murk. Turning right at Aberangell we slogged over the hill through the forest to Aberllefenni, with consecutive 20% inclines turning into a bit of a groundhog day situation. Still, at least we had the pub to look forward to. Which turned out to serve excellent food, but unfortunately as Polly in Fawlty Towers said on Gourmet Night: the smile costs extra. Time to bail out to the original choice of, now food-less, boozer down the road where the difference was striking – pleased to see us again after a couple of years, fire lit specially, and the local contingent of young children shipped in to provide a general air of happy mayhem. This alteration of venue caused us to switch from the football pitch bivvy spot to the village green instead. There are a number of old offices nearby which have always been locked on previous visits so we ignored those. Until, er, after we’d pitched our shelters at which point Bearlegged found an unlocked one so we de-pitched and retired to the drier conditions inside!
Setting off next morning, what I thought had been a “chain off” situation between the pub and the spot turned out to be a “rear hub pawl springs broken” situation instead! Arg! I tried to cabletie the cassette to the spokes so that I could limp down to Mach as a “fixie” and hope to repair it properly there, but after pedalling for a while someone asked how it was going and that subconsciously caused me to stop pedalling thereby trashing all the cableties and back to square one. Sigh. Lu had the clever idea of just bouncing the bike up and down a bit to free the pawls and that actually worked for a while. But not for long so Andy kindly assisted with taking the mess apart to show that yes in fact the springs had completely disintegrated. I decided to try and freewheel all the way to Mach which was fine until the road flattened out, at which point I noticed an old telly by the side of the road from which we raided the cable to make a rudimentary tow rope! Andy pulled me along for a fair way, but it gradually dawned on me that strangely I was actually able to pedal again, which Lu put down to the grease having warmed up and freed things up.
I was almost on the point of calling Mach Taxis for an emergency extraction but luckily the garage supplied me with some WD40, and Andy and myself cleaned everything out and by some miracle the old girl kept going for the rest of the weekend without any bother at all and indeed without any pawl springs which goes to show something or other.
Sadly Caffi Maengwyn was closed, but Bearlegged discovered the White Lion offered an equally good breakfast which set us up for the ride along the back road to Cemmes Road and the bridleway onwards to Commins Coch, where we finally ticked off our one and only grid reference!
From here we were thinking of taking the scenic route south and up and over Mynydd Ty’r Sais and dropping down into LBM that way, but Bearlegged proffered the left-of-field alternative north over Moel Eiddew. Despite being a slight deathmarch it was an unusual way to get “home” and well worth trying, with far-reaching views. Not a popular route by the look of it but we did spot some tyre tracks – any of us lot?
Thank you Bear, Frog and Roo for a fantastically convivial and relaxed weekend of unparalleled biking!
As ever, we vied with Peter S and Kev to be the last riders to get out of Stu and Dee’s hair at the community centre, and so ended another fantastic weekend. Relating the proceedings to one’s “normal” mates afterwards almost always elicits the question “why?”, to which there is no answer of course!
An uneventful train journey dumped me at Caersws last Friday, for the 90 minute ride to Staylittle. A refreshment stop at Trefeglwys meant I could pop in to a potential bivvy spot I’ve seen a few times, and this time they’d made a few improvements so I stayed a bit longer to relax on the wrecked sofa and watch an episode of Blankety Blank [Screen]…
After a bit of loin-girding it was up and over from Llawryglyn to Staylittle. The time I can’t get up this particular nasty hill without stopping is the time to pack it all in I reckon. Just made it, to be greeted by a dusting of snow on the tops, the only snow of the weekend for me even though not the highest location.
Had arranged to meet Verena at Staylittle Stores for a brew but unfortunately Circumstances meant that Nick wasn’t doing drinks at the moment
. We had to content ourselves with various other comestibles and I took the opportunity to buy a new ride mascot – Myfanwy the red dragon. Verena was staying the night at Hafren Bunkhouse so I cheekily followed her on my bike on an unplanned diversion to blag a brew there instead. Sarah and Darren were very welcoming and brews flowed, and this also helped to while away the time until the Wynnstay opened at 7pm. I’d intended to ride down the hill but Verena kindly offered me a lift in her snazzy electric car. A very pleasant evening was passed with various illuminati including Our Dave, Chickenlegs, Les, Allen, Trep, Bearlegged, Ben, Sam, JC and many others. There was a great atmosphere, with lots of banter and p1ss-taking, and I commented that it was just like being one big eccentric family gathering. What a great bunch. Andy Roobell7 rolled up at midnight for a last minute booking so we were the last out of the bar at 1am, oops. Pauline was great, she soon got the measure of us, although I had to remind her several times that I was quite happy to actually pay for all my drinks, food and bed as she kept forgetting .Next morning Andy joined Bearlegged, FrogAtTheFarriers and myself on our trip to see the Northern Lights. It was interesting to see Andy’s singlespeed fat bike and watch how it performed compared to our more standard machinery – more than capably as it turned out! Off we went up the lane north from Llanbrynmair into the pouring rain and wind, but deciding this was far too easy we took a right up the side valley of the Afon Cwm to climb 1000’ onto the remote moor above.
Keen students of 1960’s children’s television programmes will understand the pun behind this photograph, albeit slightly inverted…..
The ford at Clegyrnant farm was running very high so we wimped out and used the bridge instead, followed by the long climb up to and past the remotely situated Llyn Gwyddior. The climb continues up to 500 metres where the temperature dropped close to freezing, but at least the reward is a massive drop down the fire roads to the A458.
We were keen to cross the A458 to explore up the Afon Clywedog. No, not that Afon Clywedog. Or that one. This one is one of the shortest rivers in Wales, but very remote with no roads or habitation along it. It also has a lot of four-letter words beginning with F. Yes, Fords. By the end of this stretch, other four letter F words had come into play due the previous heavy rain. Still, the views were sensational.
We were just in time to enjoy a pleasant late lunch at the Caffi’r Hen Siop in Dinas Mawddwy, where the proprietress made us feel very welcome, so much so that we stayed for a good hour or so before setting off into the murk. Turning right at Aberangell we slogged over the hill through the forest to Aberllefenni, with consecutive 20% inclines turning into a bit of a groundhog day situation. Still, at least we had the pub to look forward to. Which turned out to serve excellent food, but unfortunately as Polly in Fawlty Towers said on Gourmet Night: the smile costs extra. Time to bail out to the original choice of, now food-less, boozer down the road where the difference was striking – pleased to see us again after a couple of years, fire lit specially, and the local contingent of young children shipped in to provide a general air of happy mayhem. This alteration of venue caused us to switch from the football pitch bivvy spot to the village green instead. There are a number of old offices nearby which have always been locked on previous visits so we ignored those. Until, er, after we’d pitched our shelters at which point Bearlegged found an unlocked one so we de-pitched and retired to the drier conditions inside!
Setting off next morning, what I thought had been a “chain off” situation between the pub and the spot turned out to be a “rear hub pawl springs broken” situation instead! Arg! I tried to cabletie the cassette to the spokes so that I could limp down to Mach as a “fixie” and hope to repair it properly there, but after pedalling for a while someone asked how it was going and that subconsciously caused me to stop pedalling thereby trashing all the cableties and back to square one. Sigh. Lu had the clever idea of just bouncing the bike up and down a bit to free the pawls and that actually worked for a while. But not for long so Andy kindly assisted with taking the mess apart to show that yes in fact the springs had completely disintegrated. I decided to try and freewheel all the way to Mach which was fine until the road flattened out, at which point I noticed an old telly by the side of the road from which we raided the cable to make a rudimentary tow rope! Andy pulled me along for a fair way, but it gradually dawned on me that strangely I was actually able to pedal again, which Lu put down to the grease having warmed up and freed things up.
I was almost on the point of calling Mach Taxis for an emergency extraction but luckily the garage supplied me with some WD40, and Andy and myself cleaned everything out and by some miracle the old girl kept going for the rest of the weekend without any bother at all and indeed without any pawl springs which goes to show something or other.
Sadly Caffi Maengwyn was closed, but Bearlegged discovered the White Lion offered an equally good breakfast which set us up for the ride along the back road to Cemmes Road and the bridleway onwards to Commins Coch, where we finally ticked off our one and only grid reference!
From here we were thinking of taking the scenic route south and up and over Mynydd Ty’r Sais and dropping down into LBM that way, but Bearlegged proffered the left-of-field alternative north over Moel Eiddew. Despite being a slight deathmarch it was an unusual way to get “home” and well worth trying, with far-reaching views. Not a popular route by the look of it but we did spot some tyre tracks – any of us lot?
Thank you Bear, Frog and Roo for a fantastically convivial and relaxed weekend of unparalleled biking!
As ever, we vied with Peter S and Kev to be the last riders to get out of Stu and Dee’s hair at the community centre, and so ended another fantastic weekend. Relating the proceedings to one’s “normal” mates afterwards almost always elicits the question “why?”, to which there is no answer of course!
