In Abergavenny: around the Black Mountains

August 18, 2022

With a clear calendar, a rested body, a well bike, and a dry day of course I’m going for a bike qride today; and of course Rachael’s going for a long walk, which she’ll present in her own post. I stare at the map a long while, looking at options that go off to the west and the east - there are many riding opportunities starting from Abergavenny - but in the end nothing within reach by a day ride looks as enticing as heading back up to Gospel Pass again. I’m a little more knowledgeable about the terrain now and know that the pass is through a high divide in a larger formation, the Black Mountains. It takes some experimenting with RideWithGPS but I finally come up with a right-sized but challenging route that completely encircles the formation. Fifty miles, 4,000’ of elevation, a few miles of off-road conditions - it looks just right for a ride to take on my own. I’ll ride it counterclockwise, starting by biking up Gospel Pass to experience the climb from the other direction.

I get started by nine, getting an early jump on the day to allow plenty of time for a ride that might slow me down with a few surprises. There’s the chance of showers arriving by three so I’d like to make it back by then; and worst case I need to be back in time for our 6:00 dinner reservation if I don’t want to suffer the Wrath of Rocky.

It’s overcast and cool when I bike down from our hill, cross the River Gavenny, and start climbing. Visibility is much better today than when we dropped into the valley but I’m hoping I’ll see some sun before the day is out.

Beginning the climb toward Gospel Pass. After a few miles I’m back on the narrow singletrack we coasted down two days back.

There’s one steepish spot on the ascent, but other than that it’s an easier ascent from this direction as the road gradually climbs the small River Honddu toward the pass. The miles pass easily, the road even quieter this morning than it was before. Biking more slowly and not being in a rush to beat the rain, I take the time to stop and admire a few spots we just whizzed past then.

Looking across the Honddo Valley. That’s Saint Martin’s Church on the slope of the hill. It looks worth getting to - it’s apparently very crooked, its tower tilted more than the Tower of Pisa.

Not today, thanks. I’ve got some rough road ahead and they wouldn’t survive the journey.

Llanthony Priory. The front side is a hotel, on the far side are the ruins of the priory. Reasonable rates, serves meals, looks like an exceptional place to hide out from the world.

A barn near the priory, one Graham Finch will recognize. He took a much better shot at it on his pass through here two months ago.

Or if the priory is booked up you could stay here. Surprising that Llanthony, a tiny village, supports two hotels.

No information on this roadside ruin, Llanthony.

Church of Saint Mary the Virgin, Capel-y-Ffin. Interesting tower.

The church is in a lovely setting above the river, it’s cemetery bordered by yew trees that must date back to when the church was built in 1762.

The summit at Gospel Pass is unchanged, except for slightly better weather conditions and visibility. Same old sheep, same old ponies, same old stunning views every which way you gaze. I look my fill and then continue north toward Hay until I come to the first turnoff and zag back west, dropping off the north side of the mountains.

The road north to Hay-on-Wye. I’ll descend it for about a mile before coming to the turnoff that doubles back almost completely and keeps falling.

That’s the road I’ll drop down to when I reach the turnoff. It’s down there in the bracken, and then makes a right turn to cross over the saddle straight on and continue falling.

It’s not just the sheep that favor the bracken here.

The drop down this unnamed paved track is spectacular, the best part of the day. Everything about it feels exceptional today - the scenery and grazers of course, but the abundant birdlife is noteworthy. At least five or six buzzards, a red kite, ravens, and four different partridge sightings - three singles that flushed so close beside me they startled me - and then a flock of ten or so that scurry up a driveway when they sense my approach.

And the ride itself keeps my attention and focus on the narrow track, watchful for a car around the next bend that never actually comes. At one point it drops off about 20% through a twisting, narrow, steep walled chute that feels like I’m dropping down a luge run.

Here’s the lower road I angled onto. Completely empty other than myself and the wildlife and grazers. I don’t see a vehicle the whole time time I’m on it until I bottom out. Ahead is Twmpa, or Lord Hereford’s Knob, forming part of the great northwest scarp of the Black Mountains. We saw this earlier from the pass, but the closer view from further down is even more impressive.

I love the row of gnarled oaks that line the path at this point.

Another one. Each was striking, but I liked the way this shows its roots twisting up through the slate.

A huge fungus. It must be approaching two feet high. While I was photographing it a partridge flushed out from nearby, not five feet away from me.

Another view up at Twmpa as I round its northern face.

After startling three singles I finally see a partridge I can take a shot of. He’s the trailer in a group hustling away from me.

So much hair! I wonder if he ever trips on his tail.

Finally, after dropping over 1,200’ I bottom out. My thinking now is that I’ve seen the best of the ride; and with still half of it to go I should concentrate on making time. One thing after another though jumps up at me for attention though, beginning with the charming catwalk in Vilindre.

The folks at Primrose Farm must really like their cat.

A books & bus stop, outside the Vilindre Village Center. Looks like an appealing little community.

Beyond Vilindre the climbing begins again as I work back up the northwest corner of the range. In order to keep my ride to a manageable length I’ve cut corners in a few spots - meaning I’ve got a few miles on pretty sketchy roads and tracks, the sort Rocky would definitely frown upon. Between the steep grade and marginal surfaces I spend a fair amount of time walking over the next mile or two.

Not bad, as long as I stick to the grass strip up the middle.

Sorry, Rocky. See what you missed out on?

Up on top of a plateau, the riding is muddy but easier again. I’m being led here by that silly sheep - he kept running down the track in front of me for a few hundred yards, stopping often to look back to see if I was still coming.

Dropping again, straight at the face of Waun Fach, the highest peak in the Black Mountains.

Waun Fach. It looks like there’s a technically easy route up, following the Dragon’s Back. The views from the top must be astonishing.

Rounding Mynydd Troed, anchoring the northwest corner of the range.

Finally leaving the mountains, I still have twenty miles to go and it’s nearing 1:30 so I really do need to keep on task, especially with the weather suddenly looking marginal or worse. I vow to basically just bike through now, but life keeps interrupting. There’s a real scare when the route I’ve marked dead ends at a private pasture filled with horses and a gated, private facility that looks like an outdoor adventure camp. The pavement returns only about an eight of a mile on the other side of this, but it’s not clear whether I can blaze a trail through. Not good, because if I back up and reroute it will significantly lengthen the ride.

I pick door #2, the adventure camp, and make it through undetected. At the far end I’m back facing the fenced horse pasture again on one side, a bramble expanse on the other, and a tiny gap between that I can’t see past. In for a penny, in for a pound so I keep going, and after getting scratched up a bit on the brambles it’s a relief to see a thin trail appear that sees me through. Whew!

Looking west toward Llynn Syfaddan (Llangors Lake) and the peaks beyond. The weather is starting to look concerning.

So that’s good. Out the other side I’m dropped on to a B road and make good time all the way to the Usk, which I cross over the beautiful, narrow ancient bridge at Llangynidr. I’m back on a better time schedule now and it’s not raining so I stop to admire the bridge and a bit of traffic drama.

The bridge at Llangynidr. It’s a good thing these cutouts are here because there’s enough traffic that you can’t really time the crossing. And obviously there’s no room to pass by otherwise.

So what happens when two cars face off on a narrow bridge? Someone backs up. Look two photos back again and think about it. How are your skills backing up?

On the other side, I continue on another lightly trafficked B road when suddenly I come to a line of cars stopped in my lane, with no shoulder to pass them on. The oncoming line is empty though and as I’m staring at this scene two other bikers arrive and just start biking down on the wrong side. With them as sweepers I feel safe in following, and am amazed as I keep biking past idling cars for what feels like a quarter mile.

Finally the answer comes at the gate to an event of some sort, with an attendant waving cars in. There are throngs of people around and a sea of canopies. Something big. Beyond the gate the situation is reversed - now my lane is bare and the oncoming one is clogged solid for the next half mile. It’s opening day for the Green Man, one of the largest outdoor music festivals in Britain. They’re sold out, at its capacity of 25,000.

Then, I come to the final stretch - the Monmouthshire to Brecon Canal. I’ve mapped myself to bike the last five miles into town on it, but now that I’ve reached it I can’t get there from here. It’s fifteen feet below me, with access across a stone wall with narrow steps up both sides for a stile. I stare at this for a few minutes considering my odds of getting myself and the bike across and down the other side without breaking either myself or another derailleur and finally decide it’s too foolhardy even for me to attempt.

So now I really am concerned about the time as I pick what looks like the best detour route - which looks pretty good until it deteriorates into a walking path across a pasture with woods on the other side. I give it a go, hoping all the while that at the other end the trail to the canal will be manageable with a bike.

Anther bit Rocky probably wouldn’t be amused by.

And it is. I make it to the canal, the ride beside it is great and worth more time then, if I had it; and more words I’d I had the time now, which I don’t either because I’m due for my teeth cleaning appointment. Bye for now.

Along the Monmouthshire to Brecon Canal.

Heart

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Ride stats today: 51 miles, 4,400’; for the tour: 1,944 miles, 114,200’

Today's ride: 51 miles (82 km)
Total: 1,943 miles (3,127 km)

Rate this entry's writing	Heart	12
Comment on this entry	Comment	8

Rich FrasierA great ride and a great report. I felt like I was riding along with you!
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1 year ago

Kathleen JonesI’m sorry I didn’t think to mention this before, but there’s a bloke who lives in Abergavenny who’s written a series of cycling guides called Lost Lanes, for the north, south, west and central England, plus Wales. So far. HTTPS://lostlanes.co.uk.
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1 year ago

Scott FenwickYou continue to amaze with your ambitious route planning and exceptional photos. I am certain that Rocky is now a bit sad to miss out on such an epic ride!
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Scott FenwickIt was an exceptional day alright, but then so was her hike for her. Oddly enough she’s expressed no regrets so far.
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1 year ago

Scott AndersonTo Rich FrasierThanks, Rich. I feel really fortunate to have had this day. I wanted to put down enough about it that I can keep its memory alive.
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1 year ago

Rachael AndersonTo Scott FenwickActually I was very glad I wasn’t on that ride! I loved the hike I took and it was great to have a break from the saddle!
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1 year ago

Susan CarpenterCertainly a ride to remember - should go in the Team Anderson Bushwhacking Hall of Fame
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1 year ago

Scott FenwickTo Rachael AndersonLooking at that well documented route plan, I anticipated your view. My comment about you being sad was entirely tongue in cheek!
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1 year ago