THE LAND CYCLING FORGOT
Quiet roads, a mixture of terrain, Shropshire could be one of the country’s best kept secrets when it comes to riding. Once restrictions had lifted we went to see if what the local riders had been keeping to themselves was as special as they said
Name a famous rider from Shropshire? Struggling? Don’t worry, so were we. Shropshire isn’t a cycling heartland, it doesn’t have a broad base of clubs churning out endless talented young riders, a round of the Elite road series, or a storied history from a classic 1970s Star Trophy race. But it does have some fantastic riding.
We were alerted to the UK’S ‘hidden gem’ by Alec Bond of the Mid Shropshire Wheelers, a Shrewsbury-based club who are lucky enough to have this part of the country as their stomping ground.
“The riding round here is extremely good,” he promised us. “You’ve got mountains to the south with the Long Mynd and Stiperstones and if you carry on along those ridge lines you’ve got some great hills all the way to Ludlow. If you went south east you got rolling terrain with more gentle slopes and if you go north or over to the east you’ve got some nice flat runs.”
Shropshire showcase
It’s 360-degree cycling from Shrewsbury, and whatever direction you go it’s a long way before you come across any big cities and busier roads.
Alec then sent us a route that had a bit of everything the area had to offer; starting and finishing on the flat roads east and south of Shrewsbury with some leg-breaking climbing in between.
“You've got mountains to the south and nice flat runs to the north"
The 110km route saw 1,700m of climbing packed into the middle 53km.
It was this section that took us briefly over the Welsh border before it cut back into England, south along the border, back into Wales before turning west to the Shropshire Hills, an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. This was a serious undertaking with constant undulations featuring both steep, narrow climbs hemmed in by high hedgerows, and exposed hilltop farmland covered in gorse and free roaming sheep.
These were the hills that Alec had alerted us too. There are five distinct climbs on the route, the first one being The Bulthy just over the border in Wales. This climb goes up the lump of land that’s constantly in your eyeline as you head west out of Shrewsbury. This is Breidden
Hill, and it’s unmistakable as it seems to stand alone, bursting up out of the flatlands around it.
Despite the intimidating look of Breidden Hill, an inactive volcano that sits in Powys, it’s a relatively gentle introduction to the day’s climbing, even if it does start with a sharp left turn straight into the steepest sections. As the road takes me around what you could call the
“Its highest point is 1,200ft and offers stunning views”
hill's ‘shoulder’ I couldn’t help thinking that if this was in France or Spain a monastery would have been built at the very top, and the necessary road heading up to it would have since become a Mecca for cyclists and one of the most popular Strava segments in the country.
But my disappointment at not being taken to the very top of Breidden Hill was short lived. By the time I was gripping my brake levers as hard as I could, trying desperately to slow down on my final descent of the day off The Burway, I was happy I’d had more than enough climbing.
The Bulthy is followed by Long Mountain, which is more a series of ascents rather than one distinct climb with a clearly defined peak. Its highest point is over 1,200 ft and you get to enjoy some stunning views from the top as you look east over to Shropshire and some quintessentially British rolling green landscape. If the wind had been blowing, I would have enjoyed this section a whole lot less.
The following descent off the Welsh moors is the longest section of respite you get with a flat run taking you to the steepest climb of the day, known locally as the Drum and Monkey, or Abel’s Harp. Both names coming from a pub part way up that has used both names over the years.
Orange is the new red
I was surprised to hear from Simon Evans of the Mid Shropshire Wheelers that this climb formed part of a road race circuit in years gone by. That must have been some race. Despite the fact I was riding at an effort that was just enough to keep me going in a straight line, the LED lights on my Wahoo were almost constantly orange, meaning I was well into the red.
The descent off here was one of the few
main road descents, meaning you covered ground quickly. It was over in a matter of minutes and took us to the main climb of the day, Stiperstones. Starting at 436ft of elevation where you turn off the A488 at Plox Green, the climb heads up through former mining towns until you hit the top 5.3miles later after 1,027 feet of ascent.
It was at this point I started keeping my eyes open for a coffee stop. Hoping to stumble across a cafe with a few bikes parked up outside. Sadly there was little on offer in what felt like a pretty remote part of the country. The one small group of cyclists I did see on the climb had pulled over to fill their water bottles from an outdoor tap outside a village hall.
Coffee stopped
Other parts of the county do have more on offer, or at least they did before we all went into lockdown according to Alec.
“There are a lot of cafes out there that are into their specialty coffee. There were pop up cafes around Shropshire pre Covid. They were taking over village halls and setting up for cyclists during summer.”
Luckily I had enough food with me and only had one more climb to do to the top of the Long Mynd, the high point of today’s route. Thankfully Alec had sent us up the easier side that ‘only’ climbs 760 feet. It’s a beautiful climb too, through farmland before bursting out into the open on the upper slopes. The scenery here is genuinely some of the best you’ll get anywhere in the UK. The weather briefly closed in here so I set off down a descent I wasn’t quite ready for.
“I'm grabbing as much brake cable as I can and still struggling to slow down”
Following some gentle descending the road suddenly drops down to Church Stretton as the hillside falls steeply away to my left. I’m grabbing as much brake cable as I can and still struggling to slow down. Thankfully the road is dry and I’m safely down what I later learn is The Burway (see Box), perhaps the toughest climb in the area. Alec had taken mercy on us after all.
The final 18 miles from Church Stretton (where we stopped at the National Trust cafe) is almost entirely downhill, which makes for a fabulous end to the ride. Despite tired legs the gentle downhill allows me to push on at a good pace with no threat of blowing up.
A tough day’s riding over some big climbs, all on near deserted roads and with a fast finish left me with a big smile on my face, and wondering what other gems the local riders were hiding from us.