Lôn Las Cymru Trip: Aberedw to Machynlleth

As I sat breakfasting in a sunny spot of the field next morning I saw a fox going about its day, feeling a sense of peace and belonging at our shared moment. After topping up my water supply from the river, I broke camp, said goodbye to my neighbour – a sweet white & brown horse I’d met the previous evening – and headed off to Builth Wells to search for a new pump. Fortunately, although quite a small town, Builth has a bike shop, and the pump I bought even has a bracket that mounts between frame and bottle cage, with the pump off to the side. This time I was careful to ensure it was well-secured.

North of Builth the scenery is beautiful, too much to remember! Bend after bend, in and out through heather-covered hills, rocky hills, forested hills, grassy hills and sheep-covered hills. There was an ancient coach road through forestry land near Llanwrthwl which was good fun! Some sections with large, loose rocks were a touch tricksy without suspension, but I enjoyed myself and managed not to break a bolt or anything else. It was pretty rutted, with some flowing water and plenty of mud despite being mid-summer, so I imagine it’s fairly horrific in winter! It was much better away from the roads and up in the woods though, and there were some nice views across the valley floor at times.

South-west of Rhayader route 81 splits off left to follow a traffic-free road up the Elan Valley and along the reservoirs there. This traffic-free side-route is apparently well worth the detour, but I decided to leave it for the return journey when I’d know if I had time to spare.

There were some good stretches of gated farm roads along the River Wye, meaning a good bit of time with no traffic or traffic noise. That paused for a while when a couple of startled sheep loped down the road away from me, then began gathering more sheep as they continued on like some daft snowball. I’d collected a dozen or so by the time some had the initiative to go onto the verge, and thankfully the others followed like, well, sheep.

Further ahead, after a few more quiet roads winding through the hills, I was looking at the map trying to decide whether to push on 20 miles to reach Machynlleth after nightfall, or take it steady and look for a wild camping spot in the Hafren Forest. I got chatting to a local cyclist who recommended a spot, and generally believing in serendipity I decided to take take it.

I headed up into the forest, location of several rivers’ sources including the Severn, the longest in Britain. The ride from here to Machynlleth is a wonderful section of NCN-8, and one of my favourites of the entire trip: missing the scenery cycling in the dark would have been such a waste! The camping spot too is a firm favourite, far from anyone else in a meadow surrounded by trees, with the young Severn snaking through the valley downhill. The rain kindly hung on until I’d just got my bags into the tent, and I fell asleep to the sound of it and the tawny owls calling, feeling so lucky to be there!

Beautiful camping spot in the Hafren Forest

The following morning I carried on through the Hafren, past the large Llyn Clywedog reservoir, through more hills and open farmland, before beginning to climb the old mountain road towards Machynlleth. Halfway up, the impressively steep Dylife Gorge opens to the right with a wonderful picturesque view to the North. Apparently its steepness is due to being cut by a young, fast-flowing river at the end of the last ice age.

As I enjoyed a rest here with the last of a pack of Welsh cakes – excellent fuel for outward-bound activities – I got chatting with a couple who’d ridden Lôn Las Cymru the previous week! We swapped stories, and before parting they gave me some homemade flapjacks, surplus from their own trip. I’m unsure how one ends up with ‘surplus’ food, but they were absolutely delicious, and I only regret I can’t ask for the recipe!

Some walkers recommended stopping at a viewpoint partway down the other side of the hill, which I duly did and was rewarded not only with another stunning view (thank you again weather!), but also my first sighting of Yr Wyddfa – Snowdon – the highest peak in Wales. I descended towards Machynlleth for lunch, and even managed to top 40mph on the way down!