Yes Men: Mid Wales Bothy Bikepacking Weekender

Photography by Tudor & James of forthehellofit.cc

Yes Men

I just love people that say yes. Maybe not quite what you think, but when you propose something a little bit beyond their comfort zone or that requires a bit of effort, but they agree almost instantly.

I’m fresh back from a dirty weekend with the Yes Men. With a free weekend on the cards and a Cyclist Mag route on my ‘To Ride‘ list with minimal planning required, I put it to my local posse. John didn’t have much of a choice, but Steve was in without much quibble. He’s ridden plenty of off road with us (the image of him descending rocky Exmoor trails with that bloody carradice is etched in my memory) but never camped overnight. We loaded him up with bags and put the fear of God into him about the scarcity of shops and he rocked up to meet us in Llandovery, carrying more snacks than a mule in Moroccan Atlas.

More is almost always merrier in this game, so on a whim I put an instagram message out to forthehellofit.cc, a few lads from Cardiff that we’d met on VeloAdventure Nic’s Spring 100km earlier in the year. We’d only passed each other a couple times and chatted a bit briefly that day, but I had a hunch they’d be good company. Plus we were heading onto their local stomping grounds, so it would be rude not to. With a Yes, Tudor, James and Mike were in.

Little Scotland

The Cambrian Mountains really are the hidden secrets of Wales. Sure, a few people will have heard of the beautiful Elan Valley and it’s reservoirs and six dams. But take your route off the smooth tarmac and onto the wide, rolling and remote gravel roads and soon you won’t see a scrap of human activity in sight. Not a single car or telegraph. Welcome to Little Scotland, just 2 hours’ drive from home.

The route started in Llandovery, and I knew we were in for a treat when I saw that it was made by Matthew Page, the man behind popular Welsh off-road events including Battle on the Beach and Gritfest, the latter of which I’d ridden last year in the same area.

The 140km round route, perfect for a two-day weekend adventure. Definitely achievable for us, given recent gruelling (but still great) multi-day exploits in the Pyrenees. Even better, there’s a bothy in the middle, which was very enticing as I’d never actually stayed in one before.

Bothy: a small hut or cottage, especially one for housing farm labourers or for use as a mountain refuge.

Heading North initially on lanes to the dam of Llyn Brianne at about 20km, we crossed the dam straight onto wide gravel doubletrack, skirting around the edge of the reservoir in the Tywi Valley. Both climbing and descending -neither with too punishing gradients – but with some fast corners and flowing cambers it’s a real treat.

A solid bit of teamwork and a few egg & pickle mayo sandwiches later to haul the heavily laden bikes over the three big farm gates en route and we reach the road again at the ancient – and Wales’ most remote – Soar y Mynydd Chapel. Even though we’re aiming for the Claerddu Bothy that night, there was no guarantee of space, so we carried full camping gear and enough food for two days too.

It’s only 5km on the quiet valley road before it pitches up again and back onto unpaved territory. More of these characteristic wide doubletrack gravel roads, twisting and rolling through the Twyi Forest, familiar scenes from the gravel enduro here last year. The realisation dawns on me that I should really specialise in gravity assisted gravel – I just can’t get enough of pushing it on these fast descents and corners off road.

My ears popped at the end of the gravel road descent, losing 5km and 200m in what felt like seconds. Passing Strata Florida, known for its Abbey ruins, we were so close to Pontrhydfendigaid, with the only village shop on our route. I’d done my homework and knew that it closes at 2pm on a Saturday, but I hadn’t anticipated that we’d make such good time, so we all had our meals stashed on us already. Arriving 20 minutes before it closed, we had time to grab some beers for the bothy in just 7 km and a box of choc ices to share right now.

With only 7km to go and hours left in the day, we chilled out in the pub next door, the Red Lion for a pint or two. It’s not often that our riding days are this relaxed, so we were bloody well gonna make the most of it. A little giddy but feeling we knew each other a bit better, we headed on from the pub to the bothy climb. From Tudor’s BMX background to their Uni days and setting up their own flourishing creative business, it was fascinating to get to know some fellow graveleurs from the other side of the Severn.

After flipping a sheep and a cactus letterbox (yes really, she was very pregnant and a bit stuck) we turned off at the pub at Ffair Rhos to the mountain road. It pitched up steeply and then yielded a little repeatedly, twisting and curling over the hillocks as one of the most beautiful roads I’ve ever had the pleasure of riding. The skies were bright blue, with the Teifi pools not far off the road across the moorland seducing us for a refreshing dip.

You could blink and miss it; the wide grassy track that passed behind one hillock to reveal the most perfect mountain bothy; Claerddu. Though you can hardly call it a bothy; it was more of a cottage, and I’m almost surprised it’s not on AirBnB. Maintained by the Elan Valley Trust, it has not only a well-stocked log shed, but also running water and a flushing loo! Now that is very fancy by bothy standards, and so we made sure to let Steve know that he was getting it almost too good for his first bikepacking trip.

Entering Claerddu and exploring the little wood-panelled rooms, the log burner and back kitchen, the narrow staircase and upstairs bunk rooms, we were all beside ourselves. We’d struck pure gold up here in the remote mountains.

With hours to spare and no great urgency to do anything at all, I cajoled the guys into a walk down to the Teifi pools on the other side of the road. They each grabbed a can whilst I pocketed my hipflask; which I can tell you I was very grateful for after a brief and brisk swim in the cold, clear blue waters.

As John and I sun-dried ourselves on the beach of Llyn Teifi, we all skimmed the slates that made up the shoreline – the perfect tool for the job. There’s so much more to riding bikes than just riding, in my book at least.

After trudging back up to the bothy across the boggy hillside, we lit and stoked the stove, and boiled up some water with the Jetboil for noodles whilst the other guys tucked into their cold sandwiches. Taking pity, we brewed up the extra Cup-a-Soups that I’d packed for them to share for something warming. Before we knew it we were joined by two other riders from Bristol doing the same route in preparation for the mighty Torino-Nice Rally. They insisted on testing out their kit and camping outside under tarps (in rather exposed spots, but they didn’t seem to like my advice on that matter) – which although slightly commendable, was bizarre given that there was loads of room in the spacious and warm bothy just a few metres away.

As we sipped hot chocolates, huddled around the stone fireplace, I saw two more figures pop over the brow of the hillock through the tiny glass-paned bothy window. The two burly Welsh lads had both come up to the bothy for a night ‘escaping the Mrs‘, before hitting the MTB trails the next day. By the amount of beers they were carrying along with them, they were certainly here for a good time!

Waking up in Paradise

When you r̶o̶l̶l̶ ̶o̶u̶t̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶b̶e̶d̶ shimmay out of your sleeping bag & liner to the sun streaming in through the tiny square panes and find it’s warm enough to go out in just a shirt even at 7.30am, you know it’s going to be a great day. With sheep and lambs munching just a few metres away and the wild landscape outside waiting to be explored, just a few chocolate croissants and minutes of bag-packing, rubbish-sorting faff stood between us and hitting the trail. Remember kids, leave no trace.

Back onto the stunning tarmac it soon turned into a stony, slate road, suitable only for 4x4s, riders and walkers. Trails like these get me going so much, so I couldn’t help myself but race John down these twisty, puddle ridden trails, dodging from side to side to get the best line around the holes and corners. Of course Steve got a puncture – it wouldn’t be a decent trip without it.

The river crossing wasn’t too bad at all although I think only James and I rode it whilst the others pussy-footed around it, trying to keep their shoes dry. I’ve kinda learnt to accept it and not care too much, because it’s easier to get your feet wet and they’ll dry out this time of year, which is easier than trying to dodge every bit of water.

Passing a remote farm in the hills, the gravel road took us to the head of Claerwen reservoir, again contouring around the East coast of the water towards the imposing dam. Tudor pointed out the gravel roads metres below at the base of the dam where he’d ridden the Trans Cambrian – the other Welsh ride on my ‘To Ride’ list. That one’s just been bumped up the priority order…

A sharp hike-a-bike push and gravel climb took us up to Llanerchi Wood. What came next could only be described as an Enduro descent down slate-strewn, slippery singletrack through the trees, ending sharply at the road at the Garreg Ddu Dam, crossing the water and descending the road to the highly-anticipated Elan Valley Visitors Centre, next to the village. The humble cafe there was a welcome break as we gulped down tea and coke, filled jacket potatoes and burgers.

With the Welsh contingent heading all the way back to Cardiff today, we said our goodbyes to Tudor, James and Mike, and carried on out of Elan on the back lanes heading South. We popped out onto another final gravel section at km90, along the Wye Valley Walk, as we followed the Wye Valley. It’s fast woody singletrack just a few kilometres long, but a lot of fun.

After more pretty back lanes to Newbridge-on-Wye, the route heads onto a B-road for 10km heading back South to Beluah. It was leg-sapping and demoralising, with Steve, John and I riding file whilst tens of cars and motorbikes whizzed past at high speed. Each rapid downhill was countered by a wall of tarmac on the other side which reduced our speed to near-zero, which was made harder by the laden bikes. After a while of silence we passed a roadside pub and made the excellent executive decision to stop for a shandy/lime soda and chill before tackling the last bit of main road. Savage gravel climbs? No problem. Relentless main road – now that’s what I struggle to cope with.

Thankfully we were back onto lanes for the last stint into Llandovery, passing by the way to Sennybridge camp and motoring on to the promise of a roast in the pub where we’d all met up the day before. And rolling back into town, we were not disappointed!

Temtped?

If you’d like to give it a go yourself, you can find the Komoot file to follow or download here. I tried to find a way around the draggy main road section near the end, but there’s no real alternative without going miles out of the way – up to you.

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Thank you to locals Matt Page & photographer Anthony Pease for the inspiration, and my Yes Men for making it so damn good.