Monday August 24:
I said goodbye to Leigh and Becky on Monday morning and struggled to get the heavy bike out of their back yard and out onto the street. I rode across Anglesey to South Stack RSPB Reserve were Becky was working at the time and had a little wander round, enjoying the clear warm skies. I thanked Becky again and headed off for my next stop and campsite – Dolgellau.
Tuesday August 25:
I’d fancied a go at mountain biking having been into it when I was younger so headed up to Coed Y Brennin where I hired a hardtail XC bike for £28 including the essential damage waiver. Bargain!
I started with a few laps of the easy stuff. Flat wide trails with a few little jumps and berms. After that I attacked some of the more technical stuff on the Red Fox, a 10 km trail with some steep and narrow climbs.
Having built up some confidence I decided it was time to tackle the purple run. This started with a really tricky, rocky climb. I surprised myself by even overtaking a bloke on a full suspension Marin. Bet he felt a twat.
After the tricky stuff it was a long drag up miles of forest tracks, seemingly forever. I almost turned back thinking I’d gone off the route but eventually found the entrance to the downhill part of the route. I was a bit surprised how little altitude I’d gained given that the lung-busting climb.
The route downhill was fairly steep with a mix of rocks, roots and some decent size drop-offs. Hammering over the rocks on a hardtail bike had really taken a toll on my legs, which were beginning to tire by now. My hands were aching from gripping the bars too.
About midway down I came to a section of large U-shaped rocky features, about six feet tall. I got over all and was just descending the last one when it went wrong. All of a sudden I was off the seat, flying through the air over the bars. It was as if it was happening in slow motion and all I could think was that I was about to break my arms and the trip would be over. I hadn’t even touched the brake. My rookie error was not dropping the seat enough to shift my weight right back over the rear wheel.
I hit the ground with a hard smack, landing on my hands and knees on the stone surface. The pain wasn’t immediately obvious apart from the stinging in my hands. I felt a bit sick with the shock of it, but dusted myself off and carried on down the rest of the trail sheepishly. It wasn’t until later that the sharp stabbing pain in my ribs started, meaning coughing, laughing and sneezing caused extreme pain for months afterwards. I found out many months later that I’d broken a rib, which I suspected I may have done, but theres nothing Doctors can do for it so I didn’t bother going to see anyone. Looking back on it, I must have either hit the bar ends as I travelled over them, or more likely landed on them when I hit the ground. Anyways, I wasn’t going to let a little bit of pain stop my adventure.
A Very British Adventure 