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.
CYB & Penmachno
February 23, 2008, Wales
After the mid-winter 24hr race faction attempt at the Strathpuffer resembled more a rave in a motorhome, February's trip to Wales marked the real beginning of the 2008 Fanylion calendar.
Eschewing the demands of Techno and Shortbread to make saturday's ride a 50 mile miserable, pathetic slog across barely defined hill tracks in the fog, wind and rain just so we could call ourselves 'mountain' bikers, Team Bear (formerly Starkey) erred on the side of caution and organised a trip to the two of the most popular trail centres in north Wales - Coed Y Brenin and Penmachno. The decision to ride at Coed Y Brenin was particularly significant being the location where the mighty beast of Fanylion was conceived. Our spiritual home!
After the spell of gloriously sunny weather we were treated to in February it was an optimistic Team Shortbread that undertook the drive down to the Bear's Lair in Mongleton. The Bear was out hunting when I arrived so I let myself as Bear had left the keys round the back. A quick rummage round his house revealed nothing weirder about him than we already know so I disappointingly retired to the living room awaiting his arrival. Team Bear arrived back from his hunt with Team Techno and quickly set to work on a steaming hot curry. Having suffered with a cold all week this was just what I needed and the conversations reverted to the usual jibberish. We were joined by a mate of Bear's, and potential Team member - Beard. We drank a few beers and watched cycling videos (oh the glamour!) before Team Cove arrived later on. Cove had spent the evening session Carlisle's go kart track, no doubt getting some practice in for the 2008 Xmas do. More beer and curry was consumed before retiring to bed. The morning came all to quickly and I woke with the usual texts from Hodgson enquiring whether we had set off yet. Bear proved his culinary skills once more with a steaming bowl of porridge (with added green and blacks chocolate, copyright Strathpuffer faction) and after a minimal amount of faff we were off. I got a lift with Cove in a car so dirty a tramp would refuse to sleep in in it with Bear transporting Techno. As soon as we crossed the border into Wales the dark cloud in the distance got darker and began to rain upon us. As we got further and further into Wales the heavier the rain got - although it only seemed to be drizzle, visibility was poor and I was secretly pleased we were riding a slightly sanitised trail centre rather than a full on battle with a mountain.
We arrived at C y B perhaps 10 minutes late to be confronted by a lycra'd up Hodgson standing tapping his watch and issueing official warnings for lateness. Sadly missing were Team White Sox and Team Monster Munch. Sox claimed problems with builders, while Munch claimed food poisoning. We did the whole meeting and greeting thing, performing high fives and touching tails before assembling into our lycra. Hodgson through a fit when he noticed valve cap covers on my inner tubes and removed them since they add weight and increase drag, apparently. Now you know! The real roadies among us went for full lycra while the more bashful roadies chose to cover up with baggies over their tights. Baggies over full length tights is wrong by the way. The rain was now heavier and we couldn't even be bothered with the obligatory team pic. After forgetting a waterproof I was indebted to Quad for providing me with his spare one. Rspkt! We began on the longest possible route - 'the Beast' - with high hopes of completing every route at by 12.30 leaving time for a brew and then a repeat in the afternoon. Straight out the car park the pace seemed quite high due to the usual combination of hyperactivity and testosterone. Poor Team Cove, having been on and off the bike recently due to various viruses and lame excuses seemed to be suffering and got spat off the back in the manner of Team Bear when he used to resemble a cake eating sloth. Cove's ability to read (he is Scottish after all) also proved suspect as he followed an incorrect sign and found himself back at the car park! The rest of us waited and waited and, just as we were about to head back for him, he sheepishly appeared. Route faff!!
After a spot of fireroad climbing we then rode some lovely rocky singletrack named 'slated' which seemed quite grippy despite the sodden nature of the trail. The roadies among us (I'm a roadie too!) found it pretty rough to be honest and riding the section on his stupidly stiff hardtail did nothing for Cove's mood. Faff then reared it's inevitable head as Quad noticed that his cleat bolt's were loose. After failing to disengage from his pedals he required the assistance of Bear to wrench his way out. Cleat bolts were deposited on the trail to general dismay but after a quick hunt we found them soon enough and we were off again. We began to repeat familiar sections of trail we'd ridden in the past which had been renamed and revamped in places with enough interest to take our minds off the rain. Riding up one section of fireroad I noticed that my own cleat bolts felt loose requiring me to get off and tighten them up. More faff!! And no sign of an Oldham faction member! Cove continued to ride like a shadow of his former self on the ups although everyone else seemed fine. Faff then appeared again in the form of Hog's camelback bladder bursting and spewing it's load all down his back. Like a true roadie he'll do anything to save weight, even risking dehydration. Quad was inching his way back to his prime after another long injury lay off and, under pressure from the pack, began to rediscover his fearsome pace downhill. Be careful though Quad - at your age bones are very brittle and take longer to heal! A long section called Pink Heiffer featured a sweeping berm 3/4 the way down with signs for the Beast heading off in another direction. the leading trio had battered on, enjoying the section too much and were visible below us. Beckoning us down we all regrouped only to agree to climb what we had just ridden down and rejoin the Beast trail. More faff and a further reduction in Cove's mental state resulted! He finally cracked when, after another rocky section, he punctured (he always punctures, it's the law) and tore his gear outer cable leaving him only his granny ring. Reaching us as we regrouped at the end of the section a tantrum ensued as he blamed all and sundry for inventing the ridiculous sport of mountain biking. Gary Fisher, Charlie Kelly, Tom Ritchey - Cove thinks you're all tossers. Well he did for a couple of minutes anyway. To be honest his tantrum was rubbish anyway - Bear informed him that he held the record for the best Fanylion tantrum when he hurled his bike down a Spanish mountainside. As well as having to fiddle and fettle attempting to reshape his bike into a rideable device, Cove had missed Bear dancing and his obligatory Michael Jackson impression. Chamone!
It was at this point that due to the weather, the faff and an average speed of about 2.4 miles an hour we decided to leave the beast be and pick up one of the shorter trails. We followed the Dragon's Back, the theory being that this would be shorter and enable us to grab a brew after in the cafe and then head out again. Little did I realise that the Beast was actually just the Dragon's Back and MBR trails strung together and we'd basically end up riding the whole Beast trail! This proved optimistic and, as we got colder and wetter, the pack began to split. More route faff ensued as we reached a section of trail we had already done. With the elite getting cold - even the elite get cold - we decided to leave the rest to it and batter on with the hope of reaching the salvation of the cafe. It's not strictly British but the Fanylion way when things get tough is to adopt a 'fcuk 'em' attitude and leave the weaker riders to die. They learn to keep up that way, you see. If you're in any doubt, request a copy of the constitution as it also contains other such gems as 'the quickest way back to the cars is to kep riding.' The dragon proved to have a rather long back including a decent fireroad climb which saw the wittering stop and cadence increase. Quad soon got spat off the back and after a number of unsuccessful attacks it was left to Hodgson and Techno to crest the top just in front of me. I've had a cold you see, and I was down in London the weekend before misbehaving. Whatever you say about me, I'll always have an excuse ready.....
More rough and ragged descending spat us out back at the car park. Amazingly, despite the peloton having seemingly been blown to pieces, we all regrouped at roughly the same time with Cove and Bear finding their way back via alternate routes. We regrouped in the cafe for some well earned fodder with Cove handing his wounded chariot over to the bike shop to work their magic on his gears. Hodgson bade us his farewells, only being allowed out for the day. Regrettably, despite his attention being almost solely devoted to road biking and now track racing, he remains fairly handy on a mountain bike. He requires another Lakes kicking I believe....
After making the short journey to Betws-y-Coed we assembled at the hostel adjoining the Swallow Hotel. Delighted to have a dorm to ourselves (and no doubt the other residents were too) we quickly showered and washed muddy kit before retiring to the bar. It proved poorly stocked (what, no ale??) meaning we were all forced to drink lager with the exception of Techno, who stuck to stout. Our numbers swelled as we were joined by Downhill Maniac and Foghorn Leghorn/Gordon Ramsay who had come to ride on sunday. The plan was to have a few pints then hit the bright lights of Betws-y-Coed in search of steak and chips. However, taxi faff ruled and the unanimous decision was taken to remain where we were sat and eat at the hotel. Benefits to this included the fact that we were 8 yards stumble from our dorm - always handy. Reflecting on the day's riding opinon was mixed on the quality of the trails. Personally I thought they were excellent, nice and rough with some nice rooty and rocky sections combined with some smoother, swoopy stuff. Techno was disappointed there wasn't more climbing, the sadist. I guess more climbing menas more descending so I'm with you there Sam! Steak was consumed and wittering commenced which got stranger and stranger, as it usually does. I can remember a few choice stories and phrases...monk's chain...seagulling....bitty....chocolate fireguards...etc. Upon last orders we stumbled to bed, praying that the weather the next day would be better.
It wasn't, and we awoke in the hazy, polluted room to reveal an overcast sky and heavy rain. Hmmm. The usual cooked breakfast was consumed although marks are taken off the Swallow Hotel for me being served cold baked beans and an absence of porridge. What sort of establishment doesn't sell porridge?? I bet the locals get porridge. Even Bear can make porridge! Bah. We quickly drove to Penmachno to ride a trail Bear had promised we'd love. It began with a fireroad climb and then some wet singletrack with a couple of nice downhill sections. It was then a mix of fireroad and singletrack, like any generic trail centre. On this occasion though, despite a couple of good sections, the singletrack seemed to lack a bit of 'spark' and character. I'm not sure what it was - perhaps our bikes were too good for it and took some of the challenge away? Cove, with knackered forks yielding a mighty 6mm of travel, may beg to differ! Some sections though, seemed pointless with little thought put into the construction. I mean, why put a totally flat silly twisty section of singletrack through a felled forest? Just because it's singletrack? After one section of trail Team Ramsay informed Bear that it was 'FOOKIN' GASH' in his usual understated manner. Bear didn't take kindly to this and so we all joined in the well known sport of Bear baiting, criticising his choice of route. Enraged he put the hammer down and stormed the last few sections of the route with steam coming out his ears! During the ride we had passed the usual motley crew of trail centre rider congregating at the beginning and end of sections , clad in armour and full face helmets on xc bikes. And why is it, when you approach a section said riders waiting at the start will then ride on ahead of you, invariably holding you up? Gets on my wick, that does.
Throughout the ride I had kept a close eye on Bear - his baggy lycra due to his recent weight loss program proved especially alluring, and he rode amazingly well compared to his former self! Rspkt Bear! Years of abuse and puffing away like a asthmatic walrus on anything resembling a slope have inspired you to turn into a sleek racing snake. Next stop elite? Watch this space, it could happen! To be fair the last couple of descents at Penmachno were very good, with much more use being made of the steep slopes. If only the initial 16 miles had been more like that. At the end of the day though we were out in the countryside having fun on bikes and while the trail wasn't perfect there were many worse things we could be doing. Like playing badminton with Mastiles or extreme shopping with Shack.
A quick change and cafe stop saw us bid each other farewell. After travelling with Cove back to Bear's I completed the journey north and was home by 10pm, tired but happy. Another quality weekend of biking had been had and it was great to see such a good turn out of riders in February. I can't help thinking though that each ride now seems to have the same hardcore group of attendees - to the rest of you, come and join us! It's fun, honest. I'll see the hardcore in the Lakes in March!
Bread Out.
Riders present
Bear
Hog
Shortbread
Techno
Cove
Leghorn
Dowhhill Maniac
Enjoyment level
Wet!