Fanylion Mountain Bike Team
Official site of the Fanylion Mountain Bike Team. Includes mountain bike ride guides, gear reviews, bike maintenance, team reports and rider profiles of the Fanylion Racing Team.
Preseli Mountains & Brechfa Forest
April 14, 2007, Wales
Getting up at 5am on a Saturday morning isn’t my idea of a good way to start a weekend, but the weather forecast was good and I was due to meet Team Starkey and Team Beard* in Congleton at 7.30am in readiness of another Fanylion weekend. Quickly throwing on clothes, I headed out of the door and into my pre-packed car and was soon on my way. The skies were clear and the thermometer was reading 12 degrees centigrade. At 5.15am. It was going to be hot!
We planned to be at Newport (not the ‘big’ Newport on the south coast of Wales, but a little one near to Fishguard on the west coast) for 10.30am. The roads were slow and tedious - full of the remnants of Easter holidaymakers. We heard from Teams 10 Ton Kona and Ewok who were having exactly the same problem travelling across from London. We reached our destination at 12.30pm, quickly followed by the Southern Faction – we were all badly late but still managed to arrive within 2 minutes of each other – rsPkt!
After a relatively Faff™ free set-up (no Team Cliff Diver you see), we were on our way out of the car park and straight into the Tourist Information shop to buy an OS Map after I questioned the sense of attempting a 23 mile natural trail with nothing but a notoriously bad MBR route map for guidance. The other worry was Team Ewok complaining of a bad back after his long drive aggravated a recent squash injury – we agreed that he should at least start the ride and see how it held up – after all, he could always turn back if it started to hurt badly.
We rode out of the picturesque village of Newport and quickly gained height on smooth tarmac access roads. ‘It’s a great day for a ride’ Starkey said as we coasted up the hill.
I had to agree.
We soon reached the first technical descent, a lovely tree-lined rocky bridleway – I rode ahead to take pictures and watched everyone flash by, grins on faces. We quickly added miles on a series of rocky climbs (with Team 10 Ton flying up them like a mountain goat) and descents, linked by some short sections of tarmac. After agreeing to disagree on the correct route, it quickly became evident that attempting the ride without a proper map could have proved disastrous. After a small detour we found the correct route over a small ford (why on earth this wasn’t mentioned in the MBR route notes I don’t know, but I guess that is why they are so notorious)! ‘It’s a great day for a ride’ Starkey commented. Yes it is, I concurred.
We continued on the correct route for about a mile when we came across more unclear MBR instruction. As we were attacked by the local’s three Irish Wolfhounds (well, attacked consisted of being jumped upon by over-exuberant and very friendly pets) and gaggle of hissing geese we tried to sort out the route ‘it’s this way lads’ the local advised and we passed his beautiful little house nestled in the side of a crag, stream running by his front door and onwards. This is where the first stack of the day happened. Inexplicably, Team Ewok contrived to fall off his bike even though he wasn’t riding it! He was stood there waiting for us all to re-group and decided to simply fall sideways a la Del Boy in that classic episode of Only Fools and Horses.
Soon we were gaining height and could see the ridge of the Preseli Mountains in the distance – all was looking good. Until we reached the road anyway. It seemed the friendly local’s advice wasn’t actually correct – he directed us up an official bridleway, unfortunately it wasn’t the bridleway we should have taken. After 15 minutes of puzzled map-reading we agreed that we had taken a little short-cut (that’s a first – getting lost FanyStyle usually adds miles on, not take them away). So we headed up the steep main road for about a mile and got our bearings. Unfortunately for us, the route we SHOULD have taken looked fun – a great open trail running off the side of a peak, but after the energy-sapping road climb, no-one was keen to ride up it just to see how good it should have been coming down – not even the remarkably fit Team Starkey. All he could say was ‘It’s a great day for a ride’. I think I have heard this before, I said.
In the distance we could see not only the ridge of the hills, but huge plumes of thick smoke being dashed across the valley. They were coming from the ridge we were meant to be riding along. As we got closer, we discussed what our options could be and agreed to at least attempt to get across – after all, we could always turn back. After a short time we came across a fireman heading towards us on a quad bike (we mused about where Team Quad was). We fully expected him to tell us we had to turn back, but even if he had said that, we couldn’t have understood him – his south Wales accent being so think, he may as well have been speaking Greek. We assumed that, by the smile on his face, all was okay to proceed. We soon reached the edge of the smoking scrub (apparently started accidentally our Welsh friend had garbled - but he could have been telling us to flee for our lives). It didn’t seem quite as bad as it looked from the distance as we headed into the smoking and burning scrub. We followed the natural trail that, as it was so worn and scrub-free, remained clear and fire-free.
Just when we thought we were through, we were suddenly confronted by a wall of thick smoke. I headed the pack and we rode into the thick smoke and fire. The smoke was like a curtain as the breeze picked it up and threw it across our path. By now the ankle-high flames were mere inches from our tyres and we could feel the heat on our skin as we gulped down fresh air every time the breeze blew a clearer patch. My heart was racing as the trail was enveloped by clouds of smoke again. I could hear voices behind me to speed up, but the voice in my head was questioning whether I should carry on or turn back – what had started out being fun and exciting had suddenly become quite unnerving. I pushed on and suddenly caught sight of a series of path markers and breathed a smoky sigh of relief as I realised we were through and were now upwind of the fire. We took this opportunity to take a break and caught our breath as we watched the series of fires disappearing into the distance.
Starkey, 10 Ton and I took turns at the front as we sped across the undulating hills. Team Beard* wasn’t far behind, even though he was struggling with the trail on his relatively low specification hardtail and had taken a detour, headfirst, into the bushes. Bringing up the rear was Team Ewok, who was still struggling with back pains. Struggling with short-term memory loss was Team Starkey as he said ‘It’s a lovely day for a ride’.
We reached a relatively flat downhill section and I asked Team Beard* if he wanted to try out my bike as he had commented that he is considering a full-bouncer of his own. I climbed aboard his Giant hardtail and blasted off, forgetting to explain to this relative newcomer about DualControl XTR gear changes. Equally, I had forgotten how much quicker hardtails pick up speed and I was soon flying through drop-offs, rocky sections and sheep trails at speeds easily manageable on my full suspension, but nut-crunchingly painful on a hardtail.
We soon reached what turned out to be the last technical section of the day as we dropped off the edge of the ridge and onto a high-walled grassy descent. Again I headed down first to be TeamPhotographer and as I reached my position, cows looked down, clearly curious about the ensuing ruckus from their position on high. One by one, the Team flew by. Shouts of ‘rSPkT’, ‘Ouch, I’ve broken my toe’ and ‘It’s a lovely day for a ride’ could be heard. Shut T.F.U. Starkey!
We spun along country lanes in the late afternoon sunshine, Team Ewok now struggling badly with his back, as well as from a lack of food and water. Fortunately I still had some left so we shared water and malt loaf between us. Soon we were back at the cars and, after leading for much of the day, Starkey was nowhere to be seen. I couldn’t resist shouting at him ‘You’re always last’ when he finally appeared – it turned out he had nipped into a shop for an ice-cream. I wonder if he told the shopkeeper what a lovely day it had been for a ride?
We quickly packed up and headed off to Camarthen where we were booked into the Old Priory Bed & Breakfast. I had images of a quaint 300 year-old leaded-windowed guesthouse. I was disappointed. It was in keeping with the usual FanyFare of cheap and ‘cheerful’, faux 1970’s (or was it real 1970’s?) furnishings, shared showers/toilets (not nice when there is an Ewok in attendance) and dark, nicotine-painted corridors.
We booked in and, after watching the conclusion of the Watford v Manyoo FA Cup semi final, had S,S,S. In true FanyStyle, we were all soon at the bar, apart from one man. Where was Team Beard*? Clearly someone hadn’t explained the FanyWay to him so he was blissfully unaware that he was allowed just 15 minutes to complete necessary preening before he was due at the bar. Starkey went to see what he was doing and re-appeared with no Beard* in sight. He finally turned up some 15 minutes later as the rest of us were on our second round of drinks. It turned out he was trying to remove a contact lens and had been fishing for it, but as he had lost it earlier in the day, he had actually been trying to remove his cornea with his fingers. In FanyFashion, no mercy was shown and after a bit of banter, Team One Eye was born.
We headed into the centre of Camarthen – a typically ‘local’ south Wales town. Just 7.30pm and there was already scantily-clad 15 year-olds staggering around, clutching at alcopops, Citroen Saxos with music pumping and the local Heddlu patrolling the streets in their vans, looking for flotsam to pick up and take back to the station. We found a suitably traditional looking establishment and headed in – Steak™ and beers all round. We were soon tucking in, silence descended and we were happy. We all finished off with homemade banoffee pie, topped with Maltesers . We were in heaven. We popped next door for a quick beer but were all flagging so decided to head back the B&B. One by one, the Team headed off, leaving Starkey and myself the last men standing. We managed just one more drink then headed off ourselves, eagerly anticipating the day ahead on the man-made trails at Brechfa Forest.
Sunday morning arrived bright and early. Just as hot and clear as the previous day. ‘It’s a lovely day for a ride’ Starkey said as I buried my head into my duvet.
After a quick breakfast, we were on the road to Brechfa in no time, planning to be riding by 10am. We got to the village of Brechfa but couldn’t find the trailhead. It turned out that Starkey had assumed that it was there, but hadn’t actually checked. We carried on the road towards Abergorlech as the name of the trail was the ‘Gorlech Trail’ (named after the River Gorlech, which the trail crosses on two occasions). Quite why he hadn’t checked before we set off, I don’t know.
As we drove into Abergorlech we saw a guy on a Pace hardtail. Starkey wound down his window and said ‘excuse me’. ‘It’s up there on the left’ was the reply before we could actually ask – I can’t imagine how he knew what we were about to ask him – maybe it was the car full of eager-looking Fanys and a bike rack dripping with BikeBling.
After the usual FanyFaff™ (comprising each rider asking Starkey for help fixing brakes, adjusting gears, cleaning chains and pumping tyres – had they all forgotten he is no longer the guy that likes to play at bikes – he actually wants to RIDE them)! RsPkt.
We were soon on our way and as is the norm in man-made centres, the initial climb was mainly fire road and smooth singletrack winding through the trees. Alistair had carried on where he left off yesterday – leading from the front. Myself and Starkey following closely, with Team One Eye and Ewok bringing up the rear – it seemed One Eye was beginning to show his inexperience riding with the Team as he had started to run out of steam a bit.
The first descent was a bit of a disappointment after all the climbing – a short and relatively simple hard-packed route winding through the stumps of recently felled trees (felled, I assume, as part of this forest’s development as a cycling centre). Then we were climbing again – but I told myself it didn’t really matter because the climbing is always relatively easy in trail centres – all fire road ascents leading to singletrack descents.
Pace Hardtail Guy had told us that the descents get better on each section, and he wasn’t wrong. Soon we were rapidly losing altitude, with amazing views across the valley. The singletrack descent had steeply-built berms to carry your speed through and table-tops & doubles were coming thick and fast. We were told that they all had get-outs but none of us really needed them – nothing was too daunting and they could easily be rolled through - I, for one, certainly wasn’t going to attempt jumping anything – not on my first ever run down the mountain.
More of the same ensued for several miles, until we reached a fantastic section traversing the mountain-side, short twisty descents to get up speed followed by equally short climbs. The tight turns on such a dusty day were testing our nerve – would we get the traction needed or would our tyres wash out? Several times I nearly found the latter to happen, but somehow managed to stay on the trail.
A short break to regroup saw us passed by two locals who looked the sort to be more interested in attempting suicide on the downhills rather than trying to clear climbs as quickly as possible. They were some way up the long climb when we set off in pursuit. Yet again Al was in front, Sheldon wasn’t far behind (despite complaining incessantly of struggling due to the previous night’s alcohol consumption) and I wasn’t going to be happy if I didn’t get past as well. We reached the top of the climb some way ahead of the locals and stopped to chat as we waited for Ewok and One Eye.
They confirmed what we had been hoping to hear – we were at the top of the final descent. We filed through the rock-gate (designed to stop motor-cycles getting on the trail) one by one, leaving good-sized gaps so we could all ride at our preferred speed without holding up or being held up. And jeez it was worth it – maybe it was the knowledge that it was the final descent, but I pumped on my pedals harder than before and gained speed quickly on the fast track. Not only was it fast, but it was also steep – so steep, in fact, that I spent most of the descent weighted really far forward and the back of the bike seemed more likely to lift off the trail completely than offer any traction. For the first time ever, I could really appreciate the benefits of riding a bike designed with angles specific to downhill riding and I wished I had one at that moment. All too soon we were at the bottom and one by one we were caught out by the complex series of twists designed to slow you down before rejoining the access road back to the car park.
It was still only early afternoon but we were all keen to pack up and get on the road quickly for one reason or another – for Al it was the call of football, for One Eye it was the prospect of tea with his mother (seriously) but for me it was because I knew I had a long drive home – at least four hours to Sheldon’s to pick up my car then another two back home.
But, all in all, it was a superb weekend – amazing weather and bone-dry trails all weekend, some fantastic natural riding on Saturday in an area never-before visited by the Fanys, and another first on Sunday riding one of the newest trail centres at Brechfa. We had to agree (if only to shut him up) that Sheldon organised the best-ever weekend in the history of Fanylion and he is the rightful successor to Hodgson as the head, the heir to Fanylion and we, his brood, are rightfully indebted to him for his hours and hours of selfless organisation. Even though he can’t be bothered to find out what village a ride starts in…
Elvis Preseli has left the building.
*Team Beard was a provisional name pending the official name being created on the Saturday night.
Riders present
(l to r)
Starkey
Ewok
10 Ton Kona
Mastiles
One Eye (formally Beard)
Enjoyment level
Thousands of screaming teenagers.