Lôn Las Cymru report

[vernon]

Day One Holyhead – Criccieth

The start of the day saw me waiting for the train at Leeds with two train changes ahead of me at Manchester Picadilly and Chester. The train journeys were uneventful apart from occasionally appealing to the semi dormant interest in all things trains. I spotted a Ruston Hornsby class O7 shunter and a few other industrial diesel shunters in a yard just past Manchester Deansgate station which had me pondering upon the possibility of a preservation society in central Manchester. I've subsequently found out that they are the property of a railway loco leasing company. Onwards to Holyhead and a straightforwards ride down the island initially using the official Sustrans route. As with the starts of all of my tours, my spirits soared as I pedalled the first few hundred yards or so as I headed into the fug of uncertainty that is a feature of all of my rides. I have no idea when I'd call it a day for the day and what distractions that I'd find en route. The uncertainties add a frisson to all of my touring rides.

The planes from RAF valley were a major distraction as they chased each other across the skies. The quality of waymarking was a bit variable and I joined the A5 heading eastwards to remove the delays caused by uncertainties at unwaymarked road junctions and crossings. The A5 was very quiet as most of the traffic was found on the parallel, newer and faster A55. The A5 is the historic route from Holyhead according to the roadside brown heritage signs and sure enough the historic nature was reinforced by the presence of old milestones and several tool keepers houses along the way. The ride out of the island was marked by a visit to Llanfairpwllgwyngyllgogerychwyrndrobwllllantysiliogogogoch railway station which is a bit of a hoot as the station name boards are so long , it's next to impossible to get far enough away from them to take a photograph.

An uneventful crossing of the Menai suspension bridge and the official route was picked up again in the guise of the Lôn Las Menai and Caernarfon was reached fairly quickly. The castle was a very impressive structure and I paid a quick visit to the terminus of the Welsh Highland Railway where I joined the Lôn Eiffon cycle route which followed the Welsh Highland Route. The cycle route was lined with blackberry bushes heavily laden with ripe berries. I relieved the bushes of some of their burden and enjoyed the experience. Not far out of Caernarfon was the locomotive depot of the WHR and I stopped for a while to watch the articulated stem locomotive being cleaned and its bunker being filled with coal. The Lôn Las Cymru went off on one of the typical Sustrans' illogical loops at Bryncyr where I took a more direct route to Criccieth for the overnight stay. There's plenty of camp sites on the approaches to Criccieth and it was just my luck to get one run by a couple of eccentric women who could not decide whether I qualified for motorised transport rates, a motorcyclist rate or something else and whether or not I'd need a tow out of the campsite the following morning as vehicles were getting bogged down in the softened grounds caused by almost incessant rain for the past month or so. I paid my seven quid, beat a retreat, pitched my tent and rode into Criccieth to purchase some cider and bits and pieces to eat. I slept soundly having woken up with excitement much earlier than was good for me on day one of the tour.

 

[vernon]

Day Two Criccieth - Nearly Towyn

The sighting of the diesel shunters at Manchester and the steam locomotive on the WHR influenced the day's activities. I was to visit the WHR and the Ffestiniog Railway at Portmadoc and then aim for Tywyn for the Tallylln Railway for the end of the day. Arriving at Pormadoc made me feel smug, the place was filling up with cars and I could filter through the traffic almost effortlessly accompanied by a Vincent 500cc Comet motor bike. The Vincent sounded magnificent as it chugged down towards the Cob. I drooled at the thought of owning such a classic. I got my Sustrans card stamped and asked about the frequency of such a request at the booking office. Apparently the demand is cyclical (sic) though there was one occasion when madness reigned – someone organised a Lôn Las Cymru race for charity but failed to inform the stamping stations who were unprepared for the onslaught of sweaty cyclists demanding instant card stampings ahead of the queue of ticket purchasing customers. I watched the arrival of one of the Faerly articulated locomotives and had a look at the carriages before I retraced my route along the high street to the WHR. The WHR is a tiddler in comparison to the Ffestiniog Railway but it does have one of the best stocked railway bookshops in the country and has an intimate atmosphere. I purchased a ticket for a short ride and a visit to the locomotive depot and enjoyed the experience. There's a degree of acrimony between the two railways despite agreements to co-operate with each other in the operation of the soon to be completed Portmadoc to Caernarfon railway route and chatting to the staff revealed the latest twists and turns in the legal wrangles. Leaving Portmadoc over the Cob witnessed a tailback into the town that was around a mile and a half long.​

Up to now I'd enjoyed decent weather as forecast and the weather certainly seemed to be holding up as I made my way to Trawsfynydd. It was a steady climb and Trawsfynydd village proved to be a dowdy and disappointing place that seemed to be down on its luck. At this point the temperature dropped markedly and unusually for me, I found it necessary to add a layer to stay comfortably warm – it shouldn't be like this at the back end of August! As I started the descent from Trawsfynydd, it started to rain with the intensity increasing by the minute. I took refuge in a bus shelter in Bronaber thankful that I'd selected the more direct route along A470. I sat in the bus shelter and dozed for twenty minutes or so having been drained by the climb to Trawsfynydd then with no sign of a let up I got out my Trangia and drummed up a mug of tea which is a great moral lifter. Shortly afterwards the skies cleared and I pressed on towards Dolgellau then Tywyn. The rough stone track label combined with the descriptor '......the route is steep and rough in places....' assisted my decision to stick to the allegedly busy roads populated with tourist traffic – they weren't. There was a steadty climb towards Barmouth Bay with stunning views across to Barmouth from Arthog and Friog. As I approached Tywyn on the elevated coastal road I spotted a stunning campsite almost on the beach with the flickerings of camp fires along the ribbon shaped site the decision to stay there was an instant one. The site was reached via a steep descent to a farmhouse/reception than a further descent under a the coastal railway line then into the camp site proper.​

I chose a spot between two large tents one of which had a largish camp fire so I could enjoy the experience by proxy – there's something special about the smell of wood smoke. I didn't want to have my own fire though I could have purchased suitable combustibles from the farmer or beach combed for driftwood the proximity of the adjacent pitches fire was sufficient. The folk of the adjacent pitches were very friendly. One of the families had a compilation of music that was played fairly loudly but was tolerable as it was a mix that I couldn't have bettered had I had access to all the music that shaped my tastes in the late seventies/early eighties. I managed to mildly burn some quick cook savoury rice – not enough water in the pan to allow a quick visit to the toilet block – having a chat with one of the campers didn't help either.... The rice was still largely edible and was supplemented with tinned mackerel. The weather broke just before midnight with high winds and heavy rain. It woke me briefly and I readily drifted back to sleep to the strains of 'Golden Brown' by the Stranglers. Cae Du is the name of the camp site – it won't be to everyone's tastes though I reckon I'll return to it sometime in the future.​

 

[vernon]

Day Three - Cae Du (Near Tywyn) to Llanlidoes
​

I woke to a wind and rain free morning though the skies were overcast. Chatting to one of the caravanners in the facilities building revealed that the weather had been foul enough to prevent him from having a BBQ every day apart from two in the previous five weeks other camp site used nodded in glum agreement. A visit to the Tallyllyn railway was on the cards for the morning and as I reached Tywyn Station I realised I was getting a bonus – a mark one Land Rover rally. There were around forty examples of the vehicle in the railway yard and their state of repair varied from concours d'elegance to 'been in continuous hard use since new and I want you to see the evidence'. I saw a couple of steam locomotives arrive and depart and had Sunday lunch in the station cafe – tremendous value at £5.50. I purchased some jelly babies from the co-op as I left Tywyn as I was expecting a large drain on my energy source later on in the day's ride, more of which anon. I stuck with the coast road to Machynlleth a town whose name would benefit from the gift of a few more vowels. I had a short break to make a cuppa and while I was day dreaming waiting for the water to boil I could smell burning – looking down at the Trangia I saw flames on the outside. Somehow the strap had ignited and had burned away a quick squirt of water from my Camelback Mule extinguished the flames and the tea making continued without delay. After the break I found the signposted single track mountain road to Llanlidoes as per Sustrans recommendation. ​

I was in for a challenging time. A mile or so along the road, a couple of cyclists pulled alongside me and asked if I knew what I was heading for as even they, (racing whippets with no surplus lard) would have to dismount and push before reaching the summit. I assured them that I was well warned by the Sustrans map and they pulled away and disappeared into the distance. I felt secure as I'd got a 20'' bottom gear little did I realise that I'd be using my 24'' (two feet) gear for the first time in three years and for around two miles! There was little warning about the severity of the climb and despite the presence of the chevrons on the Sustrans map the duration and severity just about wiped me out. Near the summit there's a memorial to Wynford Vaughn Thomas in the form of a toposcope carved into slate. Some of the distant hills and mountains indicated by the toposcope couldn't be seen because of the muggy atmosphere but the profile of Cader Idris was clearly visible. ​

The descent to Llanlidoes wasn't downhill all the way. I flagged on the upwards undulations and was almost too tired to pedal on the upward undulations. I've never found a descent tiring before. One one of the last pushes on the descent – yes I was that tired, a motorist drove past then turned around and came back to see if I was ok. I reassured him and thanked him for caring enough to check on me. I reached Llanlidoes in the dark, purchased a bottle of cider and replenished my depleted jelly baby stash and pitched by three backpackers tents with two bikes, a Mercian and an Ultra Galaxy locked to the nearby fence I could see a third bike and I locked my bike to the fence too. I supped some cider and made a quick meal in the campers kitchen before sleeping well.​

 

[vernon]

Day Four Lanlidoes to Nearly Brecon (Llangorse)​

I woke to the sound of the neighbouring three tent dwellers getting up. The third tent had the 'missing bike' in it. It was a Brompton. I couldn't believe how much luggage the Brompton rider was carrying – a huge drysack fixed to the seat post and a huge pannier thingy with pockets attached to the front both of which had a capacity greater than the two panniers and saddlebag that I was toting. I couldn't help thinking that the Brompton rider was making things difficult for himself even when I spotted a second, much smaller, chainring at the front. The owner expalined that it was a non standard fitting and the changing between rings was done manually and although it gave the same bottom gear as his mate's gorgeously restored Mercian, it's poorer pedalling efficiency meant that he had to dismount and push more frequently. It reinforced my view of the unsuitability of the bike – why do folk make things difficult for themselves?​

I was heading for Llangorse lake and followed the River Wye through Rhayader and Builth Wells. The landscape softened and opened up. One side of the valley seemed to be Welsh and the other side English with no particular nationality prevailing. The ride was a welcome relief from the previous day's labours as it was almost downhill all the way to Builth Wells. I encountered some of the old Welsh county names that seemed to disappear under the re-organisation of local government: Radnorshire, Brecknockshire revived distant memories of trying to memorise school atlases and being tested on county names as a possibly pointless exercise in knowledge acquisition but the names have a wonderful feeling as they are chewed up and spat out during their pronunciation. It was also at this point that I stopped that I was beginning to think with a Welsh accent or rather my thoughts had acquired the rhythm and intonation of what I imagined the Welsh would deploy. The days ride was enjoyable and I was heading to Llangorse to meet some friends who run the restaurant at the lake. Today's riding was the least challenging. There was a brief sting in the tale between Talgarth and Llangorse with a couple of shortish climbs which revealed the latent lack of enthusiasm for climbing following the previous day's endeavours.​

I met up with my friends who were just winding up the cafe operation for the day, Bank Holiday Monday. The day's takings were around 30% down on the previous year's taking's on a like for like basis the poor weather, dull but not quite wet enough to justify wearing a coat, was to blame. The water level in the lake was high enough to cover the walkways and quays and wasn't far below the winter levels such has been the rainfall this summer. I was ferried up to my friends' house and was wined and dined and given the guest room. It was a very pleasant evening as we caught up with the past year's news and had a crack at answering the questions on University Challenge – we did surprisingly well. It was a very late night/early morning when I retired to bed.​

 

[vernon]

Day Five - Llangorse (nearly Brecon) to Cardiff with a twenty mile gap.​

It was a two breakfast morning, cereal at the house and a gut buster fry up at the restaurant. During the previous evening I mentioned that I'd have like to have ridden on the Brecon Mountain Railway but I'd not have the time to do so and feel comfortable in reaching Cardiff in time for my train home. Dave kindly offered to give me a lift to the railway and I took him up on the offer. The railway was OK but somehow didn't feel an integral part of the landscape – I think it used the track bed of a standard gauge railway and its locomotives were imported from abroad – it was just 'too clean' and felt like a large scale toy. I had a ride on the railway then joined the Taff Trail which offered an almost continuous descent to Merthyr Tydfil along the track bed of a mineral railway. Someone, Kirsty?, had mentioned that Merthyr Tydfil's environs were bad – she'd understated the grimness in places. ​

The old track bed was very close to houses on several occasions and the coal mining and steel making heritage was visible in the landscape as I passed through. At one point on the trail I came across an open expanse of a cleared industrial site with a large arched retaining wall. I asked a pensioner who was walking his dog what the site had been and I received a fascinating potted history of the site, a steel works, its owner and his unorthodox interview techniques (the wives of the job applicants nudge nudge wink wink) and the subsequent transfer of steel making to Cardiff and the collapse of the coal industry. He also gave me an insight into the hardships faced by the locals in the depression and the raw deal that women had holding together a household with the crippling demands of domesticity and the practise of 'hot bedding' used by shift workers. He also pointed out that some considered Merthyr Tydfil could be regarded as the birthplace of railways as Richard Trevithick demonstrated his locomotive at Pen y Darren. As our conversation explored our shared links to the coal/heavy industry we got to the Aberfan disaster and his bitterness that no-one was prosecuted for what we both thought was a preventable event. The 'heaviness' of the converstion lifted as I described my route and he praised my ability to pronounce the Welsh town names correctly though he was tickled by my total failure with Machynlleth. He though I had a rare gift in being able to enjoy my own company and not get bored when travelling alone. It's people like him who are willing to engage in conversation that make travelling so enjoyable. I never feel alone when on the road. We parted company and thanked each other for the chat it was a most rewarding and enriching half hour.​

Pressing on along the valley I missed Aberfan where I would have liked to have visited the memorial to the victims. Abercynon was crossed with lots of twists and turns as was Pontypridd and I suspect that I was on a different track bed. I'm tempted to have a look at some old maps of the area as I'm sure that there were more lines that you could shake a stick at. The relative steepness of the descent towards Cardiff also made sense of the hugeness of the freight locomotives used to haul the coal and mineral trains along the valleys. The preserved examples are simply humongous. There were some bits of the trail were bizarre – steep stepped descents to pass underneath roads and some poor signposting which led to me making a major error in navigation down a route whose surface deterioration was a clue that thins were amiss. The frustration of the navigation error was lessened by the spectacle of a large dragonfly skimming along a man made watercourse devouring midges. I reckon that the five or so minutes that I spent in silent awe of the insect's ability to change direction instantaneously in three dimensions was the critical time when my lower legs were punctured by the very same insects that the dragonfly was dining on. The itches made themselves felt just as started to leave the carnivorous spectacle.​

The trail continued through Tongwynlais – I won't be riding any of the audaxes starting there – I now know they are too hilly as they had away from Cardiff and crossing valleys are not fun. Some of the final miles of trail were lined with Himalayan Balsam with their distinctive aroma. The hitherto sparsely populated trail had more cyclists on it along with a couple of groups of yobs. One bunch of kids were point long branches at me as I approached them, their resolve melted when slowed to a crawl and deployed my very best displeased teacher vocal warning of 'Don't you dare'. The sticks were lowered and their bravado evaporated until they were out of harms way and I was well on my way down the trail. The second group of older teenagers laid their bikes across the entire trail and were deflated when I went 'off trail' and rode around the obstruction. The last thing of interest before reaching the Millennium Stadium was the Melingriffith water pump that pumped water into a nearby canal system. It didn't look too healthy despite having had a comprehensive rebuild in the not too distant past. Onwards through a park and over the Taff only to be met by a Sustrans volunteer trying to recruit members. The Millennium stadium was an inspiring site and Cardiff central station was reached with plenty of time to spare before my train to Birmingham then Leeds arrived only it didn't because of a fatality on the line. I was put onto an earlier train to Bristol where I had to change for Birmingham with no net delay to Leeds.​

Conclusion:​

A great ride that does not need to be slavishly adhered to. The Machynlleth to Llanlidoes should have a health warning attached. There's some fantastic scenery normally accompanied by hilliness but the climbs are rewarded with great descents. I could have done with an extra day or two to lower the daily mileage. The ride is the most challenging of all of the Sustrans routes that I've ridden to date. Although I'm unlikely to ride the route again in its entirety, I will ride sections of the route as part of future tours in Wales, particularly the 20 mile gap that I didn't ride between Brecon and the Brecon Mountain Railway and some of the unridden branches of the route.. It is a great ride and is worth contemplating particularly if the mountain road is ridden in a south to north direction to take the sting out of the climb between Llanlidoes and Machylleth. Try to travel as lightly as possible – I took a one man tent and fewer clothes than I usually do to reduce the weight of my touring gear my next step is to shed copious amounts of lard to render the hills less challenging....​

 

[Bigtallfatbloke]

ahh Boyo...see now you've given me a hankering for leeks ad daffs see!..

Most cool read I enjoyed it.

looking down at the Trangia I saw flames on the outside. Somehow the strap had ignited and had burned away

same here mate..I managed to over fill the burner one night and the meths leaked out around the windshield...soon as I lit the thing the entireset + the ground around it went up like a bomb...I was so pleased I hadnt put it as close to my tent as I usually do. The strap melted inot some kind of black oily harded worm like thing...I now live without it which begs the question why it's needed in the first place.

 

[vernon]

ahh Boyo...see now you've given me a hankering for leeks ad daffs see!..

Most cool read I enjoyed it.



same here mate..I managed to over fill the burner one night and the meths leaked out around the windshield...soon as I lit the thing the entireset + the ground around it went up like a bomb...I was so pleased I hadnt put it as close to my tent as I usually do. The strap melted inot some kind of black oily harded worm like thing...I now live without it which begs the question why it's needed in the first place.

Do the ride BTFB. You are much lighter than me so you won't suffer on the 'killer climb'

The burnt strap certainly had an unpleasant soapy feel and a replacement has already been ordered. The strap is a vital part of the unpacking and repacking of the stove during the 'Trangia Tea Ceremony' - the beverage simply wouldn't taste the same if these two operations were altered from the norm.

The conversion of my stove to an incendiary device was mildly amusing and I'm tempted to leave the oily residue on the windshield as a battle honour.

Your account of your Channel to Med ride resonated with me to a degree though I didn't have the retail closure problems that you suffered. The roller coaster ride in northern France was just as unenjoyable for me.

Being in North Wales is certainly like being in another country as Welsh was often the lingua franca and I hadn't a clue about anything that was said in Welsh. They haven't recovered from the great vowel famine and have learned to cope well with less than their fair share of the treasured characters.

Having said that the effortless switching between Welsh and English as shop keepers and their assistants conversed with each other and Englis speaking customers was stunning. I wish I could do that with my elementary French.

 

[Cathryn]

I've just found this and will save it for the weekend! Looks brill. Any photos??

 

[vernon]

I've just found this and will save it for the weekend! Looks brill. Any photos??

I'm afraid not. I didn't take my camera with me

But here's a link to web based images of things that I found interesting;

Ruston Shunter Similar to one spotted at Manchester

Llanfair PG station sign:

Menai Suspension Bridge:

Caernarfon castle as seen from the street:

Articulated locomotive as seen at Caernarfon:

The cycleroute by the railway was line with blackberries sometimes the pauses to eat particularly appealling examples were a serious impediment to progress:

Criccieth Castle:

Vincent Comet similar to the one seen in Portmadoc. The exhaust beat was just wonderful:

Gelert as seen on the WHR at Portmadoc:

Fairlie Locomotive as seen at the other end of Portmadoc on the Ffestiniog Railway:

More to follow......

 

[Cathryn]

Ha!!!!! Very funny, Mr V!

I love the steam trains! Bit of a fan of steam trains, me!

 

[vernon]

Ha!!!!! Very funny, Mr V!

I love the steam trains! Bit of a fan of steam trains, me!

There's one or two nice view coming up later today but currently the supermarket beckons.

_=V=_

 

[sadjack]

Just got back myself after doing this route over the last 5 days. This was my first ever tour as a shorter one earlier in the year had to be canceled for a variety of reasons. So it was without the benefit of a "trial run" that I took on this, what to me turned out to be a real challenge.

I simply carried far too much and the hills in the middle part of the route killed my legs.

I learned a lot and I have a few questions of you more experienced people which I will post elsewhere.

Vernon, hats off to you mate, I know just what you mean about that hill from Machynlleth, it took me over 2 hours of cycling and walking to get to the top of that!!

Despite the hills and the heavy load (a mistake I will not be repeating ) I enjoyed the route and will be doing it again in better weather to see the views that the rain and low cloud kept from me this time.

 

[P.H]

A good read, thanks.
I did it in 2003 and enjoyed it despite it raining everyday.

 

[vernon]

A good read, thanks.
I did it in 2003 and enjoyed it despite it raining everyday.

The rain was a constant theme with everyone that I met during my five days of riding. There were only two heavy rain sessions - one during the night when i was in my tent and once during the day when I sheltered in bus shelter.

I even managed to get a hint of a 'cyclist's tan' despite being heavily tanned from a holiday in Crete.

 

[vernon]

Just got back myself after doing this route over the last 5 days. This was my first ever tour as a shorter one earlier in the year had to be canceled for a variety of reasons. So it was without the benefit of a "trial run" that I took on this, what to me turned out to be a real challenge.

Vernon, hats off to you mate, I know just what you mean about that hill from Machynlleth, it took me over 2 hours of cycling and walking to get to the top of that!!

Despite the hills and the heavy load (a mistake I will not be repeating ) I enjoyed the route and will be doing it again in better weather to see the views that the rain and low cloud kept from me this time.

Sadjack,

You are now ready for anything that Sustrans can throw at you in terms of hilly routes and needless impediments to forward progress in the form of those awful labyrinth barriers on the Taff Trail. I'd even venture that you are up for a LEJOG as there's nothing on the route that rivals the Machynlleth mountain road.

As for the better weather, it seems that I enjoyed the best weather that Wales had had in the past five to six weeks so don't get your hopes up for a sunny ride

One thing that I forgot to warn potential Lon Las Cymru riders about is the presence of midges. They are not as voracious as the Caledonian Luftwaffe but can be present in high enough numbers to be a nuisance. I suffered a few bites but the subsequent lumps have not been as itchy as the the ones created by their relatives in the Great Glen and its environs.