{"id":606,"date":"2012-05-06T20:56:00","date_gmt":"2012-05-06T20:56:00","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/?p=606"},"modified":"2024-02-01T21:09:34","modified_gmt":"2024-02-01T21:09:34","slug":"hereford-to-llandovery-day-4","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/?p=606","title":{"rendered":"Hereford to Llandovery \u2013 day 4"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

In spite of the constant \u201cthump thump\u201d of some dreadful computer-generated \u201cmusic\u201d from a group of adjacent tents, I drifted off quite quickly. But I had a disturbing dream in which my sis-in-law, who is a wonderful and revered person, was giving me a piece of her mind about something undefined, but which was probably associated with my generally wayward behaviour.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I awoke with a jolt, very aware that the thump-thump-thump was still coming from the adjacent tents. I looked at my bike computer: 1.54. What the bloody hell were these idiots doing disturbing the entire camp site at that time? I lay silently fuming, but also aware that my bladder needed emptying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I struggled out of my sleeping bag, carefully leaving all of my silk liner in the tent, put my shoes on and had a wee amongst the trees. I then stomped off to the noisy group intent upon giving them a piece of my mind.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I found a largish group \u2013 possible as many as 20 \u2013 grouped around a camp fire with some electronic device pumping out the noise.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

My opening gambit was \u201cDon\u2019t you people ever get any sleep?\u201d which gained the attention of about one-third of the assembled company.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIt\u2019s two o\u2019clock in the bloody morning!\u201d I bellowed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

A partial silence fell over the group, like a class whose teacher is missing but who have just been unexpectedly visited by the Senior Master. A decidedly ageing hippy whom I had seen the previous afternoon ferrying firewood and wielding a chain saw rose as spokesperson.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m really sorry, man!\u201d said he in a strong Welsh accent which for some unaccountable reason I didn\u2019t expect. \u201cWe didn\u2019t think we were disturbing anyone.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWell you are. The entire camp site.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

It occurred to me that the entire camp site bar one could well have been assembled around the camp fire.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI\u2019m really sorry,\u201d repeated the spokeperson. \u201cWhat\u2019s disturbing you, the music or our voices?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cBoth!\u201d I replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cOK, we\u2019ll tone it down.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

And he was as good as his word and I didn\u2019t hear another thing until I became aware of birdsong at around 7 a.m.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I breakfasted and my packing up was interrupted by a pleasant chat to a young Bristolian lady in a camper van. I was eventually away around 10.30 and shortly after leaving the camp site I heard a cuckoo not far away and attempted to entice it over but either I\u2019m losing my touch or I can\u2019t cwcw in Welsh.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

I arrived at a viewing point below the dam where a couple armed with very expensive looking Nikon cameras with large lenses attached were taking photos. They came and engaged me in conversation and it didn\u2019t take me long to notice that under her leather jacket the lady wore nothing but a string vest. I\u2019m fairly sure that there must be some sort of risk to personal safety, not to say comfort, in sporting such attire on a cold day and, connoisseur of haute couture<\/em> that I am, I\u2019m equally sure that it isn\u2019t the latest Vivienne Westwood. The only conclusion I could reach was that the scenery was not the only subject matter they were interested in photographing.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Soon I climbed above the level of the water and the really spectacular stuff began. Every turn in the road revealed a wonderful view.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

It\u2019s the road that has everything \u2013 hairpin bends, huge majestic sweeps, views across the reservoir hundreds of feet below, red kites, buzzards, glorious sunshine and plenty of other cyclists.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

The first group I met were doing the loop in the opposite direction, fast boys and girls on frames as lithe as themselves. Down they swooped, led by a lass with a huge smile and a pony tail, who must have been travelling at nearly 50 mph when she flew past me.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Although there were plenty of climbs, there was none that defeated me \u2013 yet. I was caught by a chap on a red Specialized who commented that I liked doing things the hard way.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Eventually I left the lake behind and the Tywi reappeared as a river, much smaller than it had been the last time I\u2019d seen it.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Another cuckoo, another attempt at conversation and this time, success! Not one, but two appeared, quite some distance away but there was nowhere for me to attempt concealment in the dereliction of that patch of felled conifer forest. It didn\u2019t take them long to ascertain that I wasn\u2019t the real McCoy and they disappeared back into the trees.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Much sooner than I expected, the junction for Tregaron appeared. I turned right, up the steepest section. I could see the road going up and up<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

and although the sign at the bottom of the hill said 25%, which I\u2019m pretty sure was right, Ordnance Survey had awarded the hills only one chevron at a time. I was off the bike and pushing, 30 paces at a time, with a short rest at the end of each.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Quite some time later I reached  a point where I could ride again and not long after, at 1577\u2032 above sea level, I reached the watershed between the Tywi, which becomes tidal at Carmarthen, and the Wye, which emerges under the Severn bridge near Chepstow. Now came the helter-skelter descent, nicknamed \u201cThe Devil\u2019s Staircase\u201d apparently, one of several, I\u2019m sure. I had expected to walk this, so vicious did it appear on the map, but in the end I rode, trusting my safety to two slender strands of brake cable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

I emerged into the Irfon valley and what a superb sight it was!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Flat-bottomed initially, the road and river were almost plaited together, low, barrierless bridges allowing one to cross the other. Now, of course I had the gradient with me although I was still over 1000\u2032 up. There was an occasional climb but mostly it was exhilarating descent. I reached Abergwesyn and realised immediately that there would be no pub here, so very soon, when I came across a picnic site named Pwll Bo, I took advantage and knocked up a quick cous-cous, courtesy of Ainsley Harriott, and washed it down with a nice cup of tea.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Lunch over, I completed the journey into Llanwrtyd, where there was a cash machine and a loo, and I then headed back to join the same road that I\u2019d cycled up the previous morning. Just before I did so I was overhauled by a couple on good tourers: his was a Dawes Galaxy, hers an Argos. We rode together briefly, and I picked up two vital pieces of information: the first was that in the winter months the Swansea to Shrewsbury line is free to over-60s and the second was that there was an alternative route to the one I\u2019d planned, with two fords in quick succession. I chose it, and thought what an ideal road it would be for Andrij and Rower40 to exchange stories about watery non-events.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The remainder of the ride was the reverse of the previous morning\u2019s, with the exception that this time I stopped for a couple of minutes to watch a treecreeper living up to its name, to take a photograph of the bridge at Builth and to wonder how anyone can own a river – and if they do, are they liable when it floods someone else’s house?.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

In spite of the constant \u201cthump thump\u201d of some dreadful computer-generated \u201cmusic\u201d from a group of adjacent tents, I drifted off quite quickly. But I had a disturbing dream in which my sis-in-law, who is a wonderful and revered person, was giving me a piece of her mind about something undefined, but which was probably […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,5,8],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-606","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-camping","category-cycling","category-wales"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/606","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=606"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/606\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":616,"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/606\/revisions\/616"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=606"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=606"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gentlemancyclist.co.uk\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=606"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}