The Mawddach Meander

 

In the early 1960s the then Headmaster of Queen Mary's Grammar School in Walsall, had a wonderful idea - to purchase a property in Wales for the benefit of the school's pupils. Funds were duly raised, and Farchynys (Stallion Island in Welsh) on the river Mawddach was purchased. Pupils have been enjoyingthis stunning part of southern Snowdonia every since, their visits chronicled in former pupil Paul Walton's 'Marians on the Mawddach: An English School's Love Affair with a Welsh Estuary'. Initially, it was just the Coach House and 10 acres of the headland, but The Barn and The Cottage (the latter available to rent by the general public) are now also part of the school's Farchynys estate. As a member of the teaching staff, the Coach House or The Barn can be hired outside of residential trips. It is from The Barn I set out for further exploration of what has become one of my favourite cycling destinations.

The Barn, Farchynys

With the days becoming hotter, record breaking high 30s forecast in the coming days, I leave early. To my right towers Cadair Idris (Idris' Chair), it is from here, legend has it, that the Welsh giant Idris sat looking across the sea for the approach of his equally gargantuan Irish foes. Once through Bontddu, I turn left at the crossroads and head upwards into the Rhinogydd: two-chevrons-on-an-Ordance-Survey-map up, taking-the-bike-for-a-walk up. Once I would have gamely battled on but now I figure, if walking is as quick as cycling then walk. I remount and grind on through the hamlet of Taicynhaeaf. 

Heading away from Taicynhaeaf

The road is still sealed here, and with over 200 days of rain a year, I'm in part of the Celtic Rainforest that sporadically lines the west of the UK. The lushness of the surroundings are further helped by the close proximity of the river Cwm mynach (the first of many tributaries of the Mawddach I'll encounter today). 

The river Cwm mynach

I'm headed up the 'hidden' valley of Cwm mynach (Cwm is valley in Welsh, I've just written valley of valley!), where you're unlikely to encounter little else other than glorious sights and the wildlife within (I won't see another person). Across the bridge, and soon the tarmac gives way to gravel and up I still go, but the gradient is mostly gentle, the odd sharp but short rise. 

The bridge across the Cwm mynach

I press on towards the lake that is the source of the river, Llyn Cwm mynach. To the east are a set of hills, Foel Ispri sitting at the southern tip. There are a number of gritstone buttresses (Craig y Merched) frequented by climbers - the interestingly named Rhino's Buttress among them. 

The hills to the east of Cwm mynach

The ancient woodland here is being restored, native broadleaved trees finding a place alongside the conifers from commercial forestry. With the native trees, come the mosses and lichens typical to the Celtic Rainforest - greenery that is the base to support the rich wildlife. A pile of logs provides a place to rest the bike against and chance for me to look back down the valley towards Cadair Idris.

The ubiquitous log and bike shot

This trip has been a while coming, first planned for Easter 2020. The pandemic put paid to that, then travel restrictions and, well, life getting in the way of journeying over here from England. I read a miscellany of the poems and prose of Edward Thomas during the lockdowns - with only essential travel permitted, they were a vicarious portal to further afield. 'Over the Hills' a reminder of previous journeys by bike:

                                           Often and often it came back again

                                           To mind, the day I passed the horizon ridge

                                           To a new country, the path I had to find

                                           By half gaps that were stiles once in the hedge

The horizon ridge - Cadair Idris from Cwm mynach

The road now bears east around the top of Llyn Cwm mynach - forest becoming moorland. Sounds from the lake, geese I think, fencing preventing further encroachment and confirmation. 

Llyn Cwm mynach

Now the descent towards Coed y Brenin Forest, the high peaks of the Rhinogydd - Diffwys, Rhinog Fach, and Rhinog Fawr recede into the distance. That part of the ride where you wish you had wider tyres - 700 x 35 has been fine up to now, and will be for the rest of the ride but right now I wouldn't say no to something more plush. There are tame sections where I feel comfortable to not touch the brakes, to gain speed, but elsewhere I'm heating the disc rotors to egg-frying territory. Top-tip: after descending from around 2000 m to 900 m on a battered Pyrenean gravel road, don't squat down close to a disc rotor and touch it with your knee.

Saying goodbye to the Rhinogydd - Diffwys (I think!)

The same track is taken as far as the river Gamlan (tributary two) then a choice. I don't cross the river and instead take the track headed south east, that soon turns to tarmac and with it signs of civilisation: dwellings, walled fields.

About half a million in today's property market

On to the A470 at Ty'n-y-groes, but only briefly, across the Mawddach and into Coed-y-Brenin: the King's Forest. A majestic place, dense tree coverage suggesting another world, one removed from the everyday (just watch out for the armour clad mountain bikers - there's a trail centre here). Back across the Mawddach and another tributary, the Eden, a companion to my left. To look around is to see why the river takes that name. There's a cafe to take on coffee and water (the latter free from a fountain inside). There's also a pristine, period correct early Specialized Stumpjumper to see.

Now you know the Welsh for Specialized Stumpjumper

It's then a long, slow climb out of the forest. Follow the National cycle Route signs not those for the council road - sounds perfectly rideable, doesn't it?

E-bike country - the council road in Coed-y-Brenin (rougher and steeper than the photo suggests)

Another pile of logs to rest the bike (I'll spare you another log and bike shot) and with just saplings in front, a fine view across the valley to the Rhinogydd. This high up in Coed-y-Brenin is to taste solitude, others must come this way (there's a pile of logs for a start) but I've yet to see anyone else whenever I've ridden through here. A place to slow down, contemplate, extricate from the day-to-day life:

                                                      What is this life if, full of care,

                                                      We have no time to stand and stare?

                                                      from Leisure by W. H. Davies

Across the valley - the Rhinogydd

A paved road provides a quick descent to Pont y Llyn-du, a bridge across the Gain (what's that, tributary four?), and from here you can take your pick: Llyn Trawsfynydd and its decommissioned nuclear power station, Llyn Tegid and the town of y Bala, or, as I do, a grass track along the river, weaving in and out of sheep and then a narrow road towards Dollgellau.

The river Gain

The road is exposed, no tree cover, and the rising temperature of late morning felt. The front tyre is squidgy too. I just try pumping it up and chancing it - it works, only once more do I need to inflate before finishing the ride. Back home, the next day, I remove the inner tube - can't spot a puncture but the tube would fit the front wheel of a penny farthing! I've had this before - does heat lead to such expansion?

Ribbons of tarmac, and sweat - it's getting hot

Quiet country lanes now, eventually following the course of the Wen (number five) and then a surprise, the Coed-y-Brenin Forest Garden. It stops me in my tracks, what beauty.

                                                    A poor life this if, full of care,

                                                    We have no time to stand and stare?

                                                      from Leisure by W. H. Davies

The Forest Garden, Coed-y-Brenin

Farchynys is within reach. Cadair Idris returns to sight as I approach Dogellau. Here I cross the river Wnion (number six, yes?) three times as I pick up the Mawddach trail, heading west. At Penmaenpool, the toll bridge (30 pence for cyclists) gets me across the Mawddach, fittingly the last river to cross.

Looking back across the toll bridge at Penmaenpool (other courier services are available)