Lôn Las Cymru Trip: Llyn Ogwen and Glyderau
I’d been riding through the edge of Snowdonia National Park – the mountainous region of north-west Wales – for a few days now, and yet I didn’t feel I’d actually been anywhere near the mountains. The tantalising views from Caernarfon enticed me to head deeper in, to be cradled between the peaks, and I decided I would begin my return trip south by routing through the heart of the national park.
Before setting off I headed back to Llanfairpwll to top up on supplies and look for portable gifts for my wife and boys. While browsing through a very touristy shop I bumped into Nick and his partner. Nick was now clean and dressed like a normal person, and it felt strange to see him so: I was still in biketour-land, but Nick had rejoined the ‘normal’ world, and it reminded me that all-too-soon I too would have to do the same.
After a quick catch-up I found some suitable souvenirs, plus some whisky and a whole Bara Brith, a traditional Welsh fruit loaf. My body had now adapted and was demanding a much higher daily input of calories, and I was more than happy to do its bidding while also furthering my cultural education.
By the time I’d packed up camp, loaded up the bike and was heading off it was mid-morning, and with clear skies it was beginning to get pretty warm. I dared to hope that my ride through the mountains would be rain-free, knowing I probably had some tough climbing later on, and not really needing the weather to make it any harder.
I meandered along a valley-side through open farmland, looking forward to escaping the noise of the nearby North Wales Expressway, and soon enough reached Lôn Las Ogwen (National Cycle Network route 82). Formerly a railway used to bring slate down from the quarry, this is a beautiful, quiet trail with some gorgeous sections along the river. Being a rail trail also meant I could gain a few hundred feet up locomotive-friendly gradients before the steeper climbs later on.
The huge slate spoil heaps of Penrhyn Quarry
After several miles the rural setting suddenly gave way to alien landscapes of Penrhyn Quarry’s slate spoil heaps, before I rounded a corner into the long and straight section of the lower Ogwen valley. Flanked by mountains to the East, South and West, and with a great view of the Glyderau range at the end, this was what I was hankering for! The valley bottom was broad and flat, the cycle route a quiet road along the foot of the western side. The far side was occupied by a main road, but if the noise of it carried across the valley I was impervious to it, engrossed in my surroundings.
I had paper maps for the main tour route, but since today was unplanned I’d only scouted through Karl’s suggested route on my phone. I knew the route climbed up and swung left at the end, but I didn’t know where, or what the gradient would be like. As I began up the climb I still hadn’t spotted the route, and I eyed the mountains, wondering if I’d soon regret the indulgence of buying a bottle of whisky and a whole cake on top of everything else I was hauling.
As it turned out the climb was only a few hundred feet, though still plenty with everything onboard. I left the fertile river plain below and headed into more rocky and rugged terrain, trying to recall names of some of the peaks I’d be passing. Carnedd Fach, Glyder Fawr, Tryfan. I wasn’t sure which was which, but the names rolled around my head as the road curved up, crossed the valley side and on to the upper section.
View towards the upper Llyn Ogwen valley
Near where the outflow of the reservoir Llyn Ogwen tumbles down waterfalls to the lower valley my attention switched to the next section. The cycle path ended here, and I would be joining the main road along the northern side of the Glyderau mountains, and the only way onward. Although reassured by Karl that it was fine to ride, I had resolved to retrace my steps if it didn’t feel safe enough.
As it happened I found a broad road with plenty of passing space, great visibility, and flat or descending for the next 5 miles. I stuck some effort into it, racing along at 20mph – double my average touring speed – and enjoyed the freedom, the views, and the cooling airflow until I reached Capel Curig, and stopped at a shop to relieve them of some salty crisps and a deliciously ice-cold Sprite.
From here the route almost doubled back on itself to head west towards Snowdon, Wales’ highest peak. For the next 40 minutes I battled strong headwinds all the way along the southern side of the mountains, crawling along in first gear making painfully slow progress. Heavy downpours obscured the tops of the Snowdon range in front, and I hoped my thoughts of a dry day weren’t about to be drenched.
With wide open views of valley below and mountain above however, I enjoyed every arduous minute of it, and finally, as the peaks forced the road south and it fell away into the next valley, I paused to rest. I was exhausted by struggling against the wind, and although I knew I’d be leaving these views behind I was glad to have an easy downhill stretch in front of me.
When I felt ready again I pointed myself down the hill and flew downwards, until and the narrow winding road forced me to sit on my brakes and go slow instead. Annoying, but I otherwise wouldn’t have stopped to properly enjoy the view halfway down. I took a classic ‘my bike was here’ photo which, with the lake Llyn Gwynant behind, the sun’s rays shining on the valley floor, and steep-sided mountains around, is one of my favourites.
A few miles later I found a tiny side-road back up into the hills. I was pretty damn tired by now, and decided to follow it and see if any wild camping spots might be hiding along it. There was no traffic, and little more than a handful of houses and farms, and pretty soon I came across a perfect camping spot by the river, complete with a pre-built fire circle and plenty of fallen wood.
Once camp and dinner were seen to, I made a fire. Despite a total lack of firestarters or tinder, this went surprisingly well, and I spent a long time gazing into the flames while enjoying cake and whisky. To reduce the next day’s load, of course.
For me, the joys of bike touring are as much about these still, quiet evenings, simply observing my surroundings, as they are about the riding itself. When even fire-watching couldn’t keep my eyes open I rolled into bed, exhausted, but buzzing from the day, and so grateful for the opportunity to be there.