THE BIG RIDE
We head to South Wales for a twist on the classic Gap route, starting from the new bike hub in Talybont-on-Usk
We head to the new bike hub at Talybont-on-Usk in South Wales for a twist on the classic Gap route
While it may be the quintessential Brecon Beacons route, ‘The Gap’ isn’t what it once was. As the capability of our bikes has improved and the trail has worn in, the descent to the north is no longer the gnarly rock fest it once was. So we’ve decided to mix things up, with a new route of our own to try out.
We’re starting from Talybont-on-Usk – one of Wales’s designated ‘cycling hubs’, which has developed a new Village Hub and Bike Wash to put it back on the MTB radar. Built by the community with lottery funding, this has toilets, showers and changing rooms, along with parking, making it a convenient place to start rides from. There are printed route guides available, a bike shop down the road, and the local cafe, pubs and accommodation providers are all eager to serve cyclists.
Joining us on our mission are Keith Lee, the owner of the Bikes & Hikes shop and hire centre, and local riders Andrew Skyerm and Nick Griffiths. After a big breakfast at the cafe, we decide we’d better head out onto the dusty trails before midday. Well, after five more minutes’ fettling, to get my lovely new Whyte S-150 just the way I want her for her maiden voyage.
Hello, sailor!
We’re immediately off-road, joining the sleepy canalside path. But only briefly, as we peel off to
cross the water and start climbing the hillside. It’s a long, long climb to start, but it’s not too steep and the hard, stony surface is good and has enough technical interest to keep our minds off the gradient… kind of. The trees offer some useful shade from the hot sun beating down on us, so we find a rhythm and make our way up the hill, with the locals entertaining us with stories and insults as we go. Once we break out into the open, where a challenging rocky climb awaits us, the talking subsides a little as we dig deep and follow Russell’s instructions to attack the ascent for his camera. Repeatedly. It’s not a massive hardship, though, as the sun’s out and the trails are dry and challenging, plus I want to see what my new bike is capable of, so we dutifully oblige.
As we ride along the hill, the views start to open up and we can see for miles and miles. This is slightly daunting, as the plan is to ride all that way and then back again. We’re still not at the top, but the gradient eases off a bit, until we bear left to go through a gate and between two peaks. From here, it’s just one last push to get to the summit, but we’re determined it won’t be an actual push and, despite the best efforts of the rocky climb to deter us, all make our way up – the local riders using their knowledge, while Russell and I plough through with force and ignorance.
All of us, regardless of tactics, are no doubt helped by the added pressure of a group of Navy men sat at the top, watching us. We gratefully accept their congratulations, but as they sit there with their huge rucksacks and tell us of their vast yomp across the mountains, we don’t feel all that special any more. Their packs are probably no heavier than Russell’s big camera bag, mind. After we discover Andrew is the king of banter and able to roast some pretty tough men (and not get us killed!), we also realise we aren’t cooling down much sat in the baking-hot sun, so we bid our farewells and head in opposite directions.
Mind The Gap
Once the trail starts to head back down, everyone gets competitive and serious again, and an impromptu race begins. Although wide, the track is rough, fast and fun, and the width means we can attempt overtaking – much to Russell’s annoyance, as he wanted a picture at the top. So, after grinding our way back up, we rip back down it once again, kicking up dust and rocks as we go. At the forest track, our locals zip ahead, along the eastern side of the Pentwyn Reservoir, to the road.
On the other side is the disused Torpantau railway station and ‘Devil’s Tunnel’ (stretching 666 yards), but the entrance to this is across 100m of private land and it’s extremely wet inside, so we wend our merry way along a bridleway instead. A narrow, worn dirt trail slices through the lush green grass and around the hillside, and we relish the brief flat section before we start a rocky climb once again. Just through a gate, there’s a technical descent and, after not seeing anyone for ages, we again have an audience watching us. We manage to