Wayfarer's Stone

A cycling odyssey to North Wales

(Unfortunately this post may be too long for some emails. If so please take a look at it in your browser.)

Looking back, it was a pretty fair trek for a long weekend away on two wheels…

Before I delve into the trip itself, though, here’s a little background. The name of the club I belonged to (Wayfarer’s Cycletouring Club, mentioned in my previous post) was inspired by the well-known cyclist and writer from the 1930s, Walter MacGregor Robinson who went under the pen-name Wayfarer.

Every so often someone would organise a trip up to North Wales in order to clamber up the Nant Rhyd Wilym Pass in the Berwyn Mountains and see the Stone as homage to the man himself and the spirit of rough-stuff cycling.

Runs-leader Bob, Brian, Stu, Ray and John (and, of course, yours truly behind the camera) having an early break just outside Salisbury.

There were two groups from the club that visited in ‘93. One took the more sensible option of driving up to Llangollen for the trek up the mountain. The other group, the one I was in, decided to cycle all the way up from the Isle of Wight, make the journey up to the Stone, then cycle home again over the long weekend.

I hasten to add at this point that there were numerous rather stiff training rides locally on the Island prior to this endeavour. Although I was already pretty fit at the time, these rides certainly helped build up the necessary stamina.

Lymington to Llangollen. 1) Having a bite to eat. 2) Bob leading the way. 3) Trundling past the Avon Valley Railway. 4 & 5) Heading out over the Severn Bridge. 6) Tintern Abbey. 7) A timely tea stop. 8) Not far to go.

Day one was probably the longest of the weekend, with a decidedly early ferry crossing from Yarmouth to Lymington. Once our feet (and wheels) were on dry land the other side, the ride got going in earnest, from the ferry terminal up to Monmouth Youth Hostel in South Wales. Despite the distance (about 130 miles) and the busy main roads, it was a good ride.

Day two took us the rest of the way up through Wales to Llangollen Youth Hostel, where we met up with the other group, including a remarkable gentleman by the name of Peter Handy, who joined us from Kent for the jaunt to the Stone. Although he didn’t live on the Island, he was a very likeable chap and was well known to the club - he was always considered a member even though he lived so far away. Despite his older years, he still kept up with the group on his 1930s single speed, fixed gear bike - no mean feat.

All fresh and ready to go. Heading out to the Stone from Llangollen Youth Hostel.

Day three and, feeling refreshed, we gathered for the trundle up the Pass. Weather conditions were a tad less than ideal, though, with fairly strong winds and intermittent heavy showers.

1) The inevitable puncture. 2 to 4) Such a beautiful area. 5 to 9) Onward, ever upward..

Were they really paths that we traversed, or were they small rivers? One could have been forgiven for any confusion in this regard at times. Some stretches were deep enough that your feet and the bike’s bottom bracket were submerged as you pedalled along, trying to avoid losing your balance to large, water-obscured stones on the track. Other parts were steep enough that either the front wheel lifted off the ground or, if you shifted your centre of gravity forward to stop this, the rear wheel would lose traction. The only option left was to get off and push. It was worth it, though - the grandeur of the scenery was still there even if the sun hid himself away more often than not.

Up at the Stone.

Then, suddenly, we were at the top, reading the commemorative plaque on the side of the big stone. Numerous group photos followed, of course. There was a shelter of sorts near the memorial plaque, though it wasn’t overly effective - a roof and two side walls, no front or back walls, so the weather whistled though. Still, beggars ‘n’ choosers ‘n’ all that. It was enough for us to have a bite to eat out of the weather.

1 & 2) Heading back down and admiring the view. 3 to 7) Out on Peter Handy's cross-country jaunt, enjoying the 1 in 4 (25%) hills, the mud and horizontal rain. All good fun.

Going back down after was decidedly easier. One half of the group carried on back to the hostel, the other half (me included) then headed off into the wilds for the afternoon on one of Peter H’s infamous cross-country adventures before heading back to the hostel.

Heading back to base.

One mistake I made was not eating enough at lunchtime. When I was within a few miles of our base, I got the ‘bonk’ - suddenly I was feeling rather lethargic and cold. Fortunately this was nothing that a tasty snack back at the hostel couldn’t put right. All good stuff!

Halfway home. Duntisbourne Abbots Youth Hostel.

On days four and five, our route back to the Isle of Wight took us via Duntisbourne Abbots Youth Hostel, our overnight stop. Peter H joined us on the return journey as far as Salisbury, where he left us and caught the train back to Kent and home.

Over the five days away, we covered approximately five hundred miles.

All photos above taken with my Yashica T3 on two rolls of the original Fujichrome 100 (which came with their own process lab mailer envelopes.)

---

On to the present day and I still have my faithful steed, a Raleigh Classic. It’s still in good shape, too (albeit with different wheels than in the photos above - I wore those original ones out). Here is a photo of it from a couple of years ago, down on the bridge over the River Urr at the bottom of our lane, here in Scotland. This was a leisurely jaunt to the post box and back and all of six miles(!) in total - the most I’ve done in years..

---

---

If you’ve made this far, thank you for sticking with me and I hope you’ve enjoyed this jaunt from the past. If you did, maybe you would consider a small contribution to our collective future and help plant a tree. All proceeds go to:

---

---