Brecon Beacons: Weekend Bike Trip

Planning

I had passed through Brecon Beacons National Park a few times before, but never really stopped to shake its hand. I only had a weekend, so I wouldn't be able to explore the park in its entirety, but it was enough time for the Brecon Beacons to do their thing, show off a bit.. get their Brecon Beacons out. (?)

I messaged the biking/camping group chat and received yeses from Zac and Oscar. Until recently, I hadn't been in touch with Oscar for about 10 years - since secondary school really. We followed each other on Instagram - we were both into motorcycles - so a reunion was only inevitable.

A couple of weeks before this trip, Oscar and I spent a day on breakfast at Loomies Moto Cafe, a ride through the New Forest, a visit to the Sammy Miller Motorcycle Museum, and a £1 return ferry to Swanage to lounge on the beach and swim in the sea. It was a very special day; one that I will cherish and remain thankful for forever, it was credit, despite critique, to social media.

Back to the trip - Where to go?

After a bit of googling, these were the locations to check out:

• Gospel Pass (who doesn't love a mountain road)
• B4560 (hairpin corners)
• A4233 Maerdy Mountain Road (more hairpin corners)
• Bwlch Mountain (A4107, A4061)
• Four Waterfalls Walk (lots of thought went into the name)
• Devil's Elbow
• A4069 (The Top Gear Road)
• Hike up Pen y Fan (tallest mountain in Brecon)

The weather for the entire trip was reported to be incredibly hot with almost no cloud - trunks and a towel were essential!

Calimoto

This was the first time I had used Calimoto; a motorcycle trip planner. I gave the app the locations we would like to visit, and then selected 'Winding route' from the road shape options. Suddenly, a bespoke 400+ mile trip was rendered. I transferred it onto my sat nav and that was that. The whole process took about 20 minutes, I couldn't recommend it enough. I can't believe it's free.

Day 1 - Friday

To make good use of July's long summer day, we began the trip straight after work. Oscar was in Glastonbury, so Zac and I were to meet him at the "Riverside Inn" in Cheddar at 8:45PM. Getting to Brecon takes about 3.5 hours, of course, by motorway, but that's not particularly nice. Splitting the trip with an overnight wild camp atop Cheddar Gorge sounded much nicer!

It was seriously warm when I left my house to meet up with Zac. I arrived at his house a bit early; he had only just returned home from work, and thus needed a shit and a shower before we left. Me being stationary, on top of a hot motorbike, wearing full bike kit, was not my desired start to the trip, so I did a few laps around the block and splayed my legs open whilst riding (which worked wonders for my swampy bum).

After about 10 minutes, Zac was ready and we got going. Getting more wind through our jackets on the faster-flowing A-roads, notably the A36, A361 and A362, was pure bliss. We were zipping along! We filtered through the strangely-light-for-a-Friday-night traffic to Cheddar, chipping about 25 minutes off the estimated arrival time.

With about 20 minutes remaining until arrival, I text Oscar to say we were close. He was already there, and replied with glee, saying he had bumped into 2 of his friends who were up for joining us on the trip. The more the merrier!

Cheddar

It was about 8:15PM when we arrived at the Riverside Inn, we greeted Oscar with open arms and said hello to our new friends, Tom and Tristan. They were travelling by car, which meant it was more sensible for them to meet us at a few checkpoints and campsites, rather than to try to keep up with us - we weren't going particularly fast, the roads just got rather nadgery, especially when another car was coming the other way. They had already eaten, so Zac and I promptly ordered some food and drink as dusk began to fall.

Afterwards, we headed back up the Cheddar Gorge road. There were dozens of "car enthusiasts" in the various parking spots along the gorge. It must be quite disappointing to live in that area, although it's a very quaint and lovely little village, the frequent group of loud, terrible-sounding cars going 40-in-a-20, blaring awful music, doesn't quite fit in amongst the rustic surrounding...

Either good times or good stories

I had googled a hiking path that leads up to the top of Cheddar Gorge named "High Rock", which it was. Google Maps estimated it to be about 20 minutes of hiking. Hah. Yeah, probs do it in 10. We parked in the lay-by at the beginning of the trail and locked our bikes. Tom and Tristan parked beside us, shielding our bikes from the road, which gave us peace of mind that they would be safe overnight.

I am in these photos because I was too preoccupied trying to survive, let alone take photographs, so I stole these off Zac.

Let's talk about the hike up. Google was right. It was rocky steps and roots for 20 minutes. I was a sweaty mess of a person - we all were. We were carrying our camping gear whilst wearing bike kit - actually, we left some of our kit in Tom's car, but even so, it was still a lot to carry. If it wasn't for Tom letting us use his car as storage, I would probably have been wearing my jacket and helmet too. TO HIGH HROTHGAR! We passed a few walkers that were coming down the opposite direction "nearly there lads!".. we were all red-faced and dripping with sweat, we must have looked a sorry sight.

The reward at the top was immense: a pale blue sky with an incredibly vibrant sunset in the distance, numerous places to pitch our tents, no one else around, and off to the side was a knee-wobbling, sheer drop to certain death, down to the curving road beneath, PERFECT!! We were accompanied by goats that patrolled the area with a shit-on-everything-in-sight policy in place that they followed with excellent discipline.

Once we put our tents up, we lay on the grass - probably in some goat poo - and stared at the clear, star-filled sky for about 30 minutes. That night, we all experienced some slightly disturbed sleep due to the noise of the wind smacking the tents with its gale-sized hands, but it wasn't the end of the world.

Day 2 - Saturday

I was woken by sunlight beaming on the top of my tent - balls! I thought I missed the sunrise - I quickly unzipped the door and poked my head out. The sun had only just come up - phew! I looked around; no movement or sound from the other tents, no goats nearby - plenty of tiny poo droplets though, the goats laid down the law around our tents, good and proper!

There was someone else sitting in a small blanket of sun, enjoying the view. I checked my watch; it was 5:25AM. I took some photos and videos of my surroundings before interrupting the stranger's peaceful human-free moment. We engaged in conversation, he said we had a great idea camping there, he didn't expect to see anyone camping, and that he was going to return that evening, with his camp setup, and do the same. He had an American accent; he was from Texas and was visiting with work. He asked if the bikes by the trail entrance were ours, to which I said yes, this meant he had seen them when arriving and they hadn't been stolen - result! I hope he enjoyed his camp that night.

We packed up our camp, leaving no signs of us ever being there, and headed back down the trail. It was so much easier going down. The trail was rocky, it appeared like something from Spain - absolutely not England by any means.

We were on the road by 7:20AM (!). Riding north towards Bristol, we rode up Belmont Hill on the B3129 which was fantastic. We then passed underneath the Clifton suspension bridge and were looking out for any open cafe. By about 8:20AM we were in Westbury on Trym, I pulled into a road that had a sign marking Village and Shops -> and parked our bikes on a small central island, pretending to be cyclists.

There were quite a few options for where to eat. We ended up picking a quiet, nestled away alley that had a fruit store, a florist and a cafe.

Breakfast

We sat outside the "Number 7 Kitchen", our table half covered in the not-too-powerful morning sun, and ordered breakfast and coffee - it was ever so pleasant. Full English (they had nice sausages), no black pudding, with extra hash brown. Lovely coffee too.

Oscar got chatting to the local elderly ladies, who felt compelled to stop and introduce themselves to him, they informed him of everything they were intending to do that day. It was lovely.

"Do you know her?" I asked. "Yeah, met her 2 minutes ago" he replied. 🏌️‍♀️

The toilet of the establishment got absolutely murked that morning. Albeit with great respect, each of us spent at least 10 minutes in there.

Nearing 11:30AM, we had spent a couple of hours following the route, getting hot, and needed a little break. I was explaining to Zac, over the intercom in our helmets, that there seemed to be a river running alongside the road we were on - I could only tell because of the blue squiggly line on my sat nav - perhaps we should pull in for a quick dip, although it was nearly lunchtime, perhaps we could wait for a pub with a stream out back.

We seemed to speak that very pub into existence; we turned a corner and there it was. "The Bridge Inn", Kentchurch.

They didn't open until noon, but there was activity in the garden. We parked in some shade and introduced ourselves to the chef, who was in the middle of a 16-hour hog roast. I don't know the name of the technique he was using to cook it, but I'd never seen it before!

Whilst we waited for them to open, we took a dip in the river, which involved scaling down a steep dirt bank.

We then ordered a bowl of chips and a pint of Hereford something or other.

Gospel Pass

Awesome. Gospel Pass is like the New Forest except it goes to the gym and eats less bread.

We also rode the B4560 and stopped on the very hairpin that Zac and I were getting excited about, on google street view (nerds), the week before the trip.

Blaen y Glyn Uchaf

Oscar yelled as we passed this national trust car park, so we turned around and parked up. He had been there before but didn't know where it was when looking at a map. All of a sudden it was right there in front of him! Seemed to be a running theme for this trip. It's a pretty hard name to remember, it must be said.

Stopping to dunk under some refreshing, cold water is the best feeling when on a bike trip in summer. It was about 28-29 degrees at this point. I will think about these times in winter, wishing I was back here.

After the waterfalls, the rest of the ride, which was estimated to be about 2 hours, was cut short due to both mountain roads being closed. Oh well, we were shattered anyway. Oscar had already peeled off to meet Tom and Tristan about 15 minutes beforehand, so we thought it was wise to just call it a day.

Zac and I stopped at an expensive pub that served obviously-microwaved food, and the locals were incredibly bizarre. We were too tired to care, we just wanted to get back on the road, and go to our campsite for the night.

Four Waterfalls Walk

We met up with the others, somewhere that belonged in a Tomb Raider game; it was a beautiful-looking place. A huge fallen tree draped over a strong, violent waterfall. I found the waterfall's younger brother - he had much lower pressure - and had a shower, using actual cleaning products - I felt reborn afterwards. It was seriously cold, my feet were numb and my knees were shaking like mad.

This area was mainly just rock, so didn't seem like somewhere to camp particularly easily. We walked back up to the top. Oscar and Zac found a campsite next door for £8 per person, so we went with that!

Day 3 - Sunday

It was a great night's sleep for everyone. The grass was incredibly soft and comfortable, but it was setting my hay fever off.

We got up, used the toilets and showers at the campsite, and then discussed plans for the day. Oscar, Tom & Tristan seemed really content and happy with yesterday and were fine with heading home. I wanted to hike up Pen y Fan, but Zac wasn't very keen on doing that. I was preparing to do it alone, which wouldn't be as fun, but the weather was begging for it. Even the locals had been saying it was incredibly rare to have this weather.

The toilet block was small, but at £8 a night, you can't complain.

Zac and I parted ways with Oscar, Tom & Tristan and headed north, down the Devil's Elbow.

We followed the route and again, looked out for a cafe for breakfast. We were also in need of petrol. If only there were somewhere with both a petrol station and a caf-

Glanusk Services

Glanusk Services is both a petrol station and a cafe. It's situated on a long, fast A-road. It seemed to be popular with bikers, there were loads of them parked and it was only 9AM. It must get really busy later on in the day.

I had another Full English and a cappuccino - "when in Rome" and all that!

Someone burst through the door and, during some questionable hearing from me, said "Anyone here ever ridden at Thruxton?" to which I thought "I have ridden at Thruxton, but only in a go-kart, maybe I should stay quiet." The rest of the cafe was also quiet, although, perhaps they too had some moderate go-karting experience. He said again "Anybody here ride a Thruxton?!" - OH, a Triumph Thruxton RS. "Someone's knocked it over!" a man shot up out of his chair after putting two and two together, without even finishing his breakfast. They both left the cafe and went into the car park where there was some commotion. Poor guy. Some white Mercedes had bonked it over.

Zac and I were thinking what it would be like if matey came in like "Someone has knocked over your Tenere, Mattie!" I'd be like "Ahh leave it, it's used to being on its arse, I'll pick it up after" Just off-road adventure biker things... <3

Top Gear Road, A4069

Wait.. the A40 heading west, after Glanusk Services, is worth mentioning

The A40 heading west

The A40, heading west, was miles of continuous sweeping corner after sweeping corner, in and out of shaded woodland, it was magical! We met a small bit of road work, in which there was a red traffic light - we stopped and waited. Zac, quivering in his boots, told me there was a rather fast-looking Triumph 1200RS boi waiting, MENACING behind us, and asked if we should let him past. I thought holy shit, yeah, these A40 locals are probably mental.. the roads around our local cafes can be nuts on a Sunday, let's get him out of our hair immediately. On green, we waved him past and he set off like it was the TT...

"Big boy"

"GET BACK EEREE!!!" We, jokingly, screamed in our comms

"MYY MT-07'S GOT A BONE TA PICK WIV YEWW!!" and our puny 700cc CP2 engines started screaming too.

We had our funny 5 minutes, and turned off, to head for the top gear road.

Zac wouldn't stop going on about this road. Fine, fine, we'll do it! God sake. So annoying! (Lol) It was really good, I'm really glad we did it. I can't remember anything specific about it, just that it was a great road, and we didn't want to stop for photos; just enjoy it.

My bike hit 10,000 miles shortly after, which I felt kind of emotional about. It had taken me all over the UK in the year and a half of ownership, it hadn't once complained or kicked up a fuss, and I'd put it through some terrible trails. I pulled over to take a picture of the odometer. 10000.

Pen y Fan hike

By now, Zac and I were having such a great time, he was up for hiking up Pen y Fan. Whilst following the route, I had a "low battery" warning sound on my intercom, so we agreed we should play it clever and turn them off to save them for the trip home. Big brain move. It's times like that when I think "Yeah I'll be fine in a zombie apocalypse." Speak to you in a bit dude! Bye. We arrived at the parking area about 10 seconds afterwards.

We parked the bikes next to a nice-looking Triumph 1050 Speed Triple; little learner bike - he should know we smoked a 1200RS earlier, yeah, get good mate! We locked our bikes and changed from bike attire to more casual clothes. We asked a few people in the car park how long their walk was, it was between 2 - 2.5hrs.

There were some refreshing streams along the way to dabble our heads in, which helped prevent the heat from becoming too much - it was still about 28 degrees and relentlessly sunny.

I wanted to take a picture at a slate diving board thing like this one but couldn't find it; we must have been in the wrong place.

On the way down, in our pants, we fully submerged in one of the small waterfalls. It was lovely. Moments afterwards, whilst drying off in the sun, we both felt a bit uneasy, and of a headache coming on - as if that spot of water was under a spell and we had been cursed. It could also have been heatstroke from hiking up a mountain when it's 28 degrees. We needed to find a spell tome that would cure all diseases, to rid this evil curse.

Heat stroke

Bollocks, I think we got a bit of heat stroke. Or sunstroke. Either way, we got stroked, and it didn't feel good.

It was way too hot to be riding anywhere below 50mph. It felt like being sat by a stationary bus; that warm cloggy air heat. Blerggghh. I saw the next town along was Talybont-on-usk, which looked lovely, we stopped there.

"There you are, lovely! In the valleys!"

"In the valleys!"

At the White Hart Inn, the potion to fix our curse came in the form of Ham Egg and Chips with a pint of Orange Juice and Lemonade. We re-filled our water bottles and hoped to feel better soon.

I don't know what happened, but suddenly we were about an hour away from home. The last thing I remember before that was buying a Mango Loco flavoured Monster energy drink, about 2.5 hours away, I must have gone into auto-pilot. The Monster took the wheel. Either way, Zac and I were happy we were nearly back home.

We got to our respective homes after two 12-hour days of riding and slept like a log. I woke up with a crazy dry mouth the next morning - I must have been holding back all my snoring so that the guys slept well, then let it rip when I got home.