My father, a friend and I recently ventured across the border from our beloved Shropshire into the Land With No Vowels. We decided to pack up the panniers and ride up over the mountains of North Wales and down to the sea.
Day one, we rode to Lake Vyrnwy (absolutely beautiful) and had the richest chocolate cake ever! And boy, did we need it! The climb from the Lake up into the mountains was fantastic but hard work. Chapeau to the Polish guy who rode up with me and then proceeded to head back down (twice!) to find his brother on the lower slopes, while I waited for the boys at the top. (Awesome…I am humbled!)
This climb took us into Snowdonia National Park and some truly epic riding and views. It was pretty cold on the top (and no mad French men handing me newspapers to stave off the chill), but worth every torturous pedal stroke.
What a country…
In the afternoon of day 1, we found ourselves standing on the highest mountain pass in North Wales, with burning legs and beaming smiles. The mile along the top was one of the best places I have ever ridden, and to be able to do it with my Father and Friend, was something I shall never forget.
The little path was rolling and turning and snaked its way across the mountain. The sun came out and you could hear no cars, just the muntain stream following the road. (If there’s a Heaven…) The joy of falling off the mountain with no effort was only slightly tempered by the knowledge that we would have to climb again before the final drop to the sea.
By the time we reached our destination we had ridden 115 miles and over two mountain passes. We were beaten but had never felt so alive!
Stay tuned for the return…