https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/gideonbaws .
This latest mission involved not one, but two ordeals disguised as enjoyment:
DIHEURBRAWF UN
Accompanied by my good friend Anthony O'Connor (who, despite his Irish name is in fact Welsh and should know better) I re-cycled (?) Yr Llywbr Mawddach - the Mawddach Trail - on Gideon's Marin Mountain Bike. The route runs along the disused rail track between Dolgellau and Barmouth, in Cardigan Bay.
I did this ride a couple of years ago, also for CRY, when all I had to contend with was incessant rain and a visual migraine. Whilst no changes have been made to the bike in the meantime, changes must have been made to me in the tum 'n' bum department, because I was in agony after the first 100 yards or so. Every turn of the pedals was agony. I tried in vain to find a pedalling rhythm that would not cause me pain in the nether regions. There was a bit of respite when we stopped for a snack at The George III Pub. I had a superb Snowdonia Cheddar Cheese baguette with relish and grain mustard. Thinking it best not to cycle on a full stomach, I asked to take one half away with me. This caused a bit of a debate among the staff since apparently the place is not licensed for take-away and they wanted me to sign a disclaimer in case I subsequently became unwell off the premises. In the end they couldn't find the disclaimer forms and I was allowed to leave, clutching my contraband half a cheese roll wrapped in tin foil.
Once back on the bike, the pain soon returned. Anthony graciously held open the various gates we met along the way, which was a blessing since dismounting and mounting brought tears to my eyes.
The final stretch of the route is over uneven wooden planks, forming the pedestrian bridge alongside the rail bridge over the Mawddach Estuary. Bumpity-bumpity-effin-bump, with stops every so often to give pedestrians right of way. Sheer bloody torture.
Arriving at last in Barmouth, Anthony mercifully suggested that we stop for a bevvy. In the searing heat we pushed our bikes round every street in town but all the pubs had changed into restaurants or else shut down. Finally, exhausted, we sat under an umbrella on the sea-front at a combined bucket-and-spade, ice-cream, coffee shop and bar, drooling over our cold pints of Prava Lager. All too soon it was time to set off on the return trip. Over the wooden planks - bumpity-effin-bump again. After a couple of miles Anthony offered to adjust the saddle but it was of limited help. All I could do was pedal in uneven numbers so that after say five rotations I ended up with the weight on the right cheek while another five transferred the pain to the left. After what seemed an eternity, the car park hove into view. The end of the trail. A mere 20 miles or so, but I have never been so grateful to get off a bike in my life.
DIHEURBRAWF DAU
After an essential day of R and R, the second stage of the trip: climbing Cadair Idris. Of the three well-known trails up the mountain, I chose the Pony Path as being the least exhausting. Huh!
The initial auguries were good. All the car parks serving the major tourist locations in Wales are fiendishly expensive. But here was a sign fixed to the ticket machine: "Ddim yn gweithio" ("Not Working") and footnote in English - "Your lucky day". The weather was fair-ish and Anthony was in charge of the maps. Plenty of food and drink, the right clothing - i bant a ni! (off we go!).
Here's a precis of events:
UP: Climb, breather, appreciate view, let people pass, stop for pee, climb, breather, consult map, adjust back-pack, pull up trousers where back pack has pushed them down, climb, breather, stop for pee, open gate, close gate, climb, breather, take the odd photo, pee, note change of weather, comment on low cloud reducing visibility, put on extra layer, put on waterproof, climb, breather, let people pass, greet people coming back down who passed you earlier, say hello to dogs, say hello to 3 year old passing you, stop for pee, pull up trousers, forget to do up zip. Repeat for 3 miles or 3 hours until reaching summit where a vicious visual migraine welcomes you. Consume medication and beer.
DOWN: See UP, but not quite as demanding. (You might on Facebook or elsewhere notice a derogatory photo of me, taken by Ant, which he annotates as me having a pee after consuming vast quantities of ale. This is not the case; it was simply that my trousers had fallen down.)
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