Of Mice and Men, a bit of Tolkien, A five mile push, loneliness, darkness and the worlds loudest snoring man.

30th December 2011.

The best laid schemes of mice and men,
often go awry,
and leave us nought but grief an' pain

I suppose I kinda instigated the idea of a last trip of 2011. After missing the BB200, the Winter Bivi and knowing I'll miss the Mach 'n' Back in Jan I was feeling a bit miffed and it seemed like a chance for me to get one last trip in before 2012.

So it was set an overnight trip to the Moel Prysgau Bothy in mid Wales. I packed accordingly and left my tarp at home. (I also in the rush left my map & Aquapak at home as well)

As I was travelling in from a couple of 4 star luxury spa nights away so I said I'd make my own way up to the Bothy and meet the others there.

I set off up the Elan Valley in the rain, past the spectacular reservoirs, at times it hammered down so hard it made me feel like I was directly under them! (it should be noted that for some reason I had put shorts on.) As I followed the tarmac all was well, moist but well. Once the tarmac road had ended my route was to follow a simple bridleway along the side of a nice looking stream for about 6-7 miles, it would take me to the front door of the bothy. 6-7 miles on a bike? 30mins, maybe an hour tops. I reckoned that I'd be first at the bothy, lighting the fire and welcoming the others as they arrived with hot coffee and hugs. Things however, did not go to plan.

Dead marshes
As I left the tarmac I couldn't make out where the bridleway started, no obvious tracks or way-marking, I was a little more confused than my normal state of perpetual confusion, no matter I had a copy of the map on my phone, the only problem was keeping it dry whilst looking at it in monsoon conditions. It showed the Bridleway following the stream and looked simple enough. Basically follow the stream for about 5 miles to the forest, how hard could that be? After 10 mins of faff I was off, not on a track but following a general direction and doing okay. Then it all went wrong, very very, wrong!

"Dreary and wearisome. Cold, clammy winter still held sway in this forsaken country. The only green was the scum of livid weed on the dark greasy surfaces of the sullen waters. Dead grasses and rotting reeds loomed up in the mists like ragged shadows of long forgotten summers."

I soon could not ride, in fact I could barely push, it turns out that the bridleway I had chosen goes through a fucking massive swamp! 2 foot tall clumps of grassy reedy stuff covered the ground and the babbling brook of a stream as indicated on the map was an angry raging torrent branching off in multiple directions. The bike was heavy with all the gear on and the only real way to make forward progress was to carry it on my back. Occasionally I'd find and push along some sheep engineered tracks which whilst lifting my spirits usually only lasted  no more than a few yards.

Every other step I was sinking to my thighs in saturated ground, at one point my leg came out of the mud dark reddy brown and I wondered if I'd just stepped through a rotting sheep. On I went trying to pick out the clumps of grass to prevent sinking and failing miserably (I went over more than a few times). I was constantly referring to my (getting wetter and wetter) iPhone praying Apple had designed some moisture redundancy into my only map source. I had to cross dozens of streams and ford the raging torrent (which went over my waist) twice!

Once again I had ignored the fact that bridleways in remote Wales are generally complete shit and totally un-rideable on a bike! (I may have also been told this, but as usual, I applied pig ignorance to advice offered)

As I carried on each step toying with the fact this is far too hard  and too slow and that maybe I should head back, hit the tarmac and get safe. Light would fade soon and rather than being first there I now had to face up to the fact that I would be lucky to make it at all. The ground around looked bleak with no natural shelters, no tarp, no map and no where dry to lie down either. I pushed on determined to make the tree line before dark though.

2 miles in, 3 to go to the forest, 2 back to the road,
3 up, 2 to go,3 back,
4 up and oh it's dark but at least I can a faint outline of trees through the dark and the mist.

At no point was I really worried, honest!, I had a big warm sleeping bag, a waterproof bivi bag, fuel and food, I could use my Thermarest bed as a sort of boat come floatation device on the sodden ground, never was it a proper problem, it just would have been a long long night. (A tarp would have been nice though.)

It's dark at four
The light went completely at about 4:30pm but I'd just managed to reach the edge of the forest. The Bothy was about 1.5km away now as the crow flies but I was proper knackered and drenched to the skin. If I stopped I'd get cold fast. It was at this point, exhausted, I started doing dumb stuff.

Dumb stuff #1
I'd lost the non existent bridleway but found the forest. So eager to get to the tress I climbed the fence and thought I'll just walk straight through until I hit a fire road. In the forest it was pitch black now and rather than bog it was bog, puddles, branches and roots. I must have gone 300m into the forest when a better more sensible voice told me I could get lost pretty quickly dong this and that I should stop, turn back, go back to the fence and follow it. Even non existent Bridleways have gates. This I did, found the gate and just as before no obvious bridleway presented itself on the other side of the gate just a boggy gap through the trees.

I once again toyed with my options, I could hunker down here for the night, the trees offer a bit of shelter but still no dry ground was apparent. I could bin the bike and walk, the bike had been a complete hindrance since I left tarmac. In the end bloody mindedness saw through and I pushed on through the boggy gap until I hit a fire road.

Dumb stuff #2

So happy to be on fire road I just set off loving the fact I could make quick progress on my bike, I zipped along in the dark with a second wind. Sensible voice then kicked in! Best check your direction it said, so I did and I'd cycled about 2k the wrong way! Pillock! .

Lights a hoy!
Once in the forest and checking my wet phone I had to wind around some fire road and then use a short cut through to get to the bothy. I wound my way round the tracks and eventually saw car lights across the valley I then saw the window lit up of a building. Anyway after a bit I found the way through to the Bothy (well Memory Map on my iPhone did).

As wet as an otters pocket but oh so happy to be there and so very very relieved. Stuart came out to meet me after taking bets on whether I'd land or not, I don't know who won?

The fire was going, the snug was warm, the bothy was in good nick and it's amazing how a bit rehydrated food, coffee and good company can make it all worth while.

That night I was so exhausted I could have slept through an earthquake (This I've done before when I was in San Francisco) but for some reason I didn't sleep that well?

Things I leant:
Don't rely on electronic GPS (a second map source should be carried as a backup)
If you leave a bit of kit at home you'll end up really needing it
The bridleway from Elan valley to Moel Prysgau Bothy is spectacularly bleak and unridealbe
Taylor's mate snores very loud
Always listen to Ian when it comes to routes in Wales
Moel Prysgau Bothy is very nice and the MBA do good work
Homemade custard based dehydrated desserts don't really work
Somebody somewhere makes Titanium hip flasks
Stuart is retired
iPhones can get surprisingly wet and still work
MemoryMap is expensive but very good