The Lon Cymru is a 254 mile way-marked cycle route from Holyhead to Cardiff. It takes the rider down the full length of Wales, along the flat lanes of Anglesey, through the mountains of North and Mid Wales and down the valleys to Cardiff Bay. In early September 2003, three of us followed, in a somewhat leisurely seven days, this toughest of the Sustrans UK routes. What follows is a account of the epic journey, complete with a few tips for anyone planning to attempt the ride.
A roundabout outside a Ferry terminal is perhaps not the most fitting start to an epic ride through the magnificent scenery of Wales, but this is where myself, Robbie and Graham found ourselves on a drizzly Saturday morning. Not to be deterred by the weather and the somewhat questionable ambience of the starting location, we set off into Anglesey's winding country lanes. What became immediately apparent was that there would be little need for the maps we had had bought from the nice people at Sustrans‚ The Lon Las Cymru has a signpost at every junction and, with the exception of the odd urban section, it was very difficult to go wrong.
The route across Anglesey was pleasant if not spectacular. The island is probably the flattest terrain in Wales which, while being good for the legs, doesn't make for great scenery. We faced a mere three small climbs before the Menai Strait, none of which caused any major problems, or at least none that we were willing to admit to. The first town after Holyhead was Llanfair PG, the settlement with the longest place-name in Britain. It was while passing through the town, and it's rather haphazard cycle-lane system, that we first managed to slip off the route. Whether this was due to our inattentiveness or altered signposts remains a mystery, although it should be mentioned that at one juncture we were directed into a car park and down a one-way road back to where we started. After a detour of several miles along a main road towards Beaumaris we decided that maybe we had gone a tiny bit wrong. We stopped for lunch and then headed back the way we had come. After a fruitless attempt to find a Sustrans sign we decided to temporarily abandon the route and head for the bridge to the mainland.
After a brief spell of holding up an entire lane of traffic over the Menai Bridge we were safely across the strait and were easily able to spot the route markers again. The short section to Caernarfon was fairly straightforward and we arrived in plenty of time. The lady at the tourist office informed us that there were several guest-houses in the North-East corner of the walled part of the town, and we were soon able to find one that suited both our wallets and cycle-storage needs.
After a good night's sleep, and with the weather looking more promising, we were ready to set off again. The route out from the town followed an old steam railway for several miles before branching off to Cricceth. After a short spell of climbing there was a fantastic descent down to the pretty sea-front. The climb up from the resort was long, but much tamer than the guidebook suggests and before long we had arrived at Porthmadog. We had the good-fortune to be the only guests at Snowdonia Backpackers Lodge, located a few miles outside of the town, and were able to enjoy the whole of Lawrence of Arabia's birthplace to ourselves.
We were up bright and early the next morning for what would surely be the toughest day so far. The weather had now firmly turned against us and we donned our waterproofs for the climb ahead. Foolishly taking the guidebook at its word we skipped onto the A496 to avoid the hillier and supposedly equally busy B4410. What followed was several miles of horrific trunk road cycling for only minor savings in time and effort. Needless to say, we rather regretted this detour from the route, and we resolved there and then to follow it exactly in the future, whatever mountains lay in our path.
Soon enough we soon hit our first 20% gradient and some of us were wishing we had packed a little more lightly. But before long we had reached Coed-y-Brenin forest and, after a steep but brief climb, we were racing along stony tracks through "the UK's premier mountain-biking destination". Despite the guidebook's ominous warnings and the recent heavy rain, the trail was far from impassable with our pannier-laden bikes. Robbie was the only one to take a tumble; luckily a metal fence was present to prevent him from plunging to an almost certain death in the rocky ravine below.
The weather was by now looking even worse, but we nevertheless decided to carry on through Dolgellau to Corris, allowing us to get half a day ahead of the eight-day route suggested in the guide-book. This extra distance proved more difficult than it had looked; there were two steep climbs as we passed over Cadair Idris, with several rather annoying cows intent on forcing us to dismount at the most inconvenient moments. The descent on the far–side was pretty fantastic, if spoilt slightly by the presence of a number of gates and the pouring rain. At this point my brakes began to crumble under the strain and I only narrowly avoided a collision with a stationery tractor. A Welsh farmer nearby informed us that Corris was only a short distance away and, with my retarding apparatus temporarily patched up, we quickly descended the last few miles.
Corris is a small place, with the Youth Hostel hidden up a small road. Its location proved far too cunning for Robbie who managed to sail straight past and down the next hill. Neither myself nor Graham felt inclined to race after him and, confident that he would stop at the foot of the next climb, we waited for his return. Several minutes later he appeared, morosely pushing his bike back up the gradient, just about keeping pace with an old lady walking her dog! Before long we were scraping off the mud at the Hostel and spent a relaxing evening in what appeared to by Corris' only pub. After a hard day we were sufficiently tired to sleep through even the strange and exotic menagerie of snores that permeated through the male dormitory.
After a pleasant breakfast, less pleasant washing up and the definitely unpleasant repairs in the rain, we were finally ready to set off for what we expected to be a steep section out of the valley. In fact there were a only few short climbs, and we were soon cruising through the town of Machynlleth‚ stopping only to buy some lunch and some desperately needed brake pads. Ahead of us lay by far the hardest section of the route, a climb from near sea-level to 1640ft over a distance of eight miles. The ascent itself was hell - or at least it was for those of us who had to watch Graham make an attempt for the land-speed record several miles in front - but the view from the top made it all worthwhile. We ate lunch at the highest point on the Lon Las Cymru admiring the scenery from a fantastic 510m.
The rest of the ride to Llanidoes was mainly downhill and very uneventful and we were soon tucked up in Mount Inn, a very pleasant little pub with excellent food. We had now gained a whole stage on the suggested timetable and we envisioned no problems reaching Cardiff in three days.
By now we had all acclimatised to daily cycling and, with the hardest section of the route behind us, we were looking forward to an easy day. As the mountains of Snowdonia faded into the distance, we raced alongside the Afon Gwyn avoiding the hills looming on both sides. Not long after Rhayader we hit our first unsuitable off-road surface, a two mile stretch of old coach road. The worst part was right at the beginning, with a steep climb up a rocky path. After that the track did improve slightly, although the recent downpours meant that we were in a sorry state by the end. This time it was a group of sheep who seemed intent on causing us the most possible disruption, forever hovering about ten metres in front.
After passing through a gate we were once again on paved roads and these lasted all the way to Builth Wells. After a half-hearted attempt to clean ourselves outside the public toilets, watched by a huge gathering of football supporters en route to watch Wales v Finland in Cardiff, we managed to find a guest house foolish enough to take in three filthy cyclists, and settled down to watch the football.
With long sections on a B-road,this part of the route was not as great as it could have been. Nevertheless the scenery was still fine and the going good; it was only a short time before we reached the point where the Lon Las Cymru divides in two, one route leading to Cardff and the other to Chepstow. We had long ago decided that we would take the former; despite the marginally worse scenery there is something symbolic about finishing at the capital. The decision did not, of course, have anything to do with avoiding passing over the Black Mountains...
We managed to get lost just a few miles from Brecon, and ended up cycling quite a way through some hilly lanes. By good fortune we managed to stumble right across the Youth Hostel, which was located some distance from the town. Had we not run straight into it we would probably still be searching now. It was too far for our weary legs to walk us into Brecon, but luckily the hostel was prepared to cook us a very nice dinner. This just about redeemed them in my eyes for forcing us to pay for a four-bed room.
The final and longest section of the route began in glorious style, winding through lanes beneath the Brecon Beacons. We passed over a dam at the end of the Talybont Reservoir and headed up the only path which didn't have a no-cycling sign in front of it. This soon became impassable for pannier-laden bikes and we were forced to drag our bikes and kit up the hill. After a couple of hundred metres we managed to scramble onto what appeared to be a logging road, although we saw only the one vehicle. This may or may not have been the correct route, but it went in the right direction, climbing gently alongside the reservoir, so we followed it for several miles. At the summit we found the signposts again, and made the descent to the Reservoir. At the end of the reservoir we joined the River and prepared ourselves for a long, flat and very simple ride to Cardiff.
Unfortunately, someone had decided to build Merthyr Tydfil right across
the route, and we soon lost our way in a maze of cycle lanes. After some
assistance from a passing gentleman we managed to rejoin the Taff Trail
as it sped through the valley. From now on the scenery was much more
urban in character, as we passed through the industrial sprawl
surrounding the Southern towns and cities. There was a nasty section
near the M4, but after that the route remained off-road all the way to
Cardiff. Once inside the city we passed through the parkland running
alongside the river, a popular route with local cyclists. When we hit
the city centre the route began to fall apart a bit, but by this stage
we weren't going to complain. After a brief stop at Cardiff Central to
buy our train tickets home, we completed the final section to the
waterfront in record time. As we stood admiring the view across Cardiff
Bay we reflected that, in just a week, we had cycled the length of an
entire country.
Last Updated 13-01-2004
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