Well, I rode the Cambrian 1A yesterday and it was absolutely stunning. By far my favourite road ride that I have ever done.
Set off from Llandrindod at around 10:20 am with moody grey but dry skies and it didn't take long for the climbing to start. I had created my own GPS file, by chucking the controls into bikehike and letting it do it's thing, and set my mind on following the route, no matter how stupidly hilly the little lanes became, and how many little offshoots it sent me round from the main A roads (more about that later.....)
There was an absolutely gorgeous stretch that looped alongside the A44 on the way to Rhayader and I grabbed a quick pic, not realising this would only be the start of the increasingly epic and verging on mythical scenery. Already by this point I was glad to be on a new bike, with the compact on the front and an 11-32 on the back (although I couldn't actually use the 32 sprocket...more about that later too...)
Got in to Rhayader pretty quick, as it's not far from Llandrindod, so didn't need supplies and controlled at the Museum. A lovely lady signed my card and was very much in shock when I explained the route. You all know what it is like, non-audaxers think 100 km is a MILLION MILES when to an audaxer it's just a short day out. With her warning of "Tregaron? It's pretty 'wild west' out there you know" I headed off up the mountain road into a ferocious headwind. This was, of course, all part of the plan as it would be a lovely tailwind on the way back after all those hills, so I smiled to myself, revelled in my new-found low gears and carried on spinning steadily upward.
Eventually, the GPS pink line turns left. Left? There is no road left? Oh *heart sinks. There is a byway. Guess who hadn't redone the Cambrian1A file when she realised that bikehike in openstreetmap is happy to send bikes up green lanes and bridleways unless you tell it otherwise? Yes, that would indeed be me. It did go a long way to explaining why my original 105 km was significantly under the 113 km predicted for the ride. So I had some choices a) Panic, cry a bit and head back the way I came in a sulk b) Panic, but appreciate all the lovely riding done so far that day, and head back the way I came and even possibly ride some of the 1B I had done previously as I know that area well c) Don't panic, head onwards and see what happens.
Sometimes A would have been the most likely option, but not yesterday, not in such a beautiful place. B very nearly happened, I was having such an enjoyable time I actually stopped caring about getting the audax done and was just happy to have got out so did consider it.
In the end I went with C. What's the worst that could happen? All roads lead to roads and I would eventually end up either rejoining my pink line, or rejoining the A44. If I met the A44 first I decided I'd just turn round, and smash out a Strava time to the best of my ability back over the mountain road to Rhayader. If the absolute worst happened and I got totally lost and knackered, I could stay at the first hotel I found and sort it out in the morning. It would be fine!
As time went on, I realised the road was heading south and, flicking out the GPS map, I would eventually re-find that pink line. Not that I cared. I could have been 50 miles off course at that point...I have never ridden such a stunning little lane in my whole life. Running alongside a totally deserted mythical valley with a gushing stream, kites overhead and just complete tranquillity. I thought about getting photos but realised with the headwind, climbing, long stop trying to work out where I was going to go if I kept following the road, and a sixth sense telling me the climbing was only just beginning, I pressed on. Not with the normal innate urgency I seem to have that prevents me from appreciating the surroundings though, just calming soaking everything in whilst cruising past.
A brief interlude for an amazing bit of descent put an even bigger smile on my already-smiled-to-the-point-of-aching face.
On entering a wee village I managed to grab a postie and get confirmation I was on the road to Tregaron so this settled me a bit as I was beginning to get concerned about my lack of fluids. The new bike didn't come with bottle cages so I just stuck an old one on thinking it would be more than enough to get me between stops. The stretch between Rhayader and Tregaron was a lot longer than expected and was very hungry and very thirsty for the last 10 km. Straight in the Spar to control with two bottles of Oasis and a carton of orange juice. Bliss, utter bliss! At this point I see a few riders coming into Tregaron "they look so much like audaxers" I chuckled to myself. "No, hang on, that one has a Carradice, they MUST be audaxers"......heading out toward Beulah I start seeing more and more, and then the familiar faces appear. "Ahhh the Elenydd 300!" It's funny, when you are on an event, you can ride for miles without seeing anyone else, but when heading in the opposite direction the gaps between riders are no where near as big as you would imagine.
The climbing started again pretty quickly and became increasingly challenging, even with the new gearing, at one point I had to weave back and forth across the road to keep from stopping. Right at that moment I really wanted that chain to sit on that top sprocket, but it was having none of it. Bastid thing! Still, I made it up all the climbs, without stopping at any point, across that mountain road. What a road, it's immense! Who the hell thought putting that there was a good idea, well, thank you. So hard, yet so rewarding getting up to the top. If I am honest, I wasn't overly fond of the descent down what I now understand is the devils staircase. Now, I like going downhill very fast on a bike, but a mountain bike, with big tyres and lots of grip. Riding a skinny tired roadie down a narrow exceptionally steep gravelly and slightly potholed road, especially with a whole number of riders coming up (meaning no cheating and taking corners superwide) was not really my idea of fun. Still, looking at the faces of those riding up, it was still the better option heh heh.
At the bottom of the Devils Staircase was a control for the 300 km and the volunteers were most kind and refilled my water bottle meaning I had plenty of fluid to get me to the next control. I couldn't stop for long though as was getting increasingly concerned with the ticking clock. The 'normal' 100 km time of 4 to 5 hours clearly wasn't going to apply to this one and I did wonder whether I would be back in the limit. Then I had an epiphany - who cares if I don't make it back? The ride wont be validated....but it wouldn't take away from what an amazing day and ride it had been so the whole thing had already been worthwhile. The audax validation would just be a bonus.
Once the mountain road was over it was nicely undulating to Beulah. Or was it? I did ponder several times on the way back to the van whether things I was now considering to be 'small hills' were so because my perspective on what constitutes a climb had changed so much in the few hours preceding that point. All that climbing made me hungry but not for decent food. Oh no, on arriving at Beulah services the only thing I wanted to eat was a giant sized grab bag of Walkers crisps. These are becoming my audax food of choice. I carry all sorts of 'suitable' riding food (most of which returned with me to Llandrindod) but none of it compares to crisps for getting me back blasting along again. I don't ever eat crisps at home etc, so why I do on audaxes I don't know, but they work, and that's fine by me. The tailwind back from Beulah to Llandrindod was a blessing and picked up the pace considerably along the decent B roads meaning there was no danger of being out of time and arrived back at just gone 4.