Fear and Loathing on the Farteg Hill

I should have gone to Afan after all...

Only the other day Gareth and I were discussing that after 6 months of abusing our bikes on a variety of terrain, neither of us had suffered a puncture. 'It's only a matter of time' he wisely replied.

There's a mountain not far from where I live, and every time I pass I look up at the steepness and the maze of trails that criss-cross their way down, and promise myself that one day I would go exploring up there. Trail centres are brilliant but for me there's something exhilirating about getting up summits and finding new trails on the bike. And it's always nice to have some local loops to play around on.

It looked so promising on the map!

A spur of the moment decision today and I was off. The sun was shining as I left the house, after a brief scan of an OS Map of the area I dug out of the cupboard (circa 1995 but surely not that much could have changed?). A footpath which looked great on the map (they always do) soon degenerated into stream crossings and marshland.

Undeterred I carried on, eventually coming to a heavily padlocked gate with an imposing sign saying 'PRIVATE PROPERTY KEEP OUT'. Knowing from experience that trespass is a civil matter and I could happily wheelie through the land baron's living room and the police were powerless to do anything about it, I again pressed on. It wasn't the well surfaced trails of Afan I could have gone to, but I was enjoying nonetheless.

But half an hour in my enjoyment soon came to an end. The trail disappeared completely and I found myself standing in a steep, heavily wooded ravine, bike on shoulder, scrambling up a steep bank with stingy nettles ravaging my shins. Going back was not an option. After a bit of Ray Mears' bushcraft I hopped back on the bike to cross a stream, when I heard the unmistakable rapid hiss of air from my rear tyre. As I screamed an expletive into the air, I reflected on my decision for the first time ever not to pack a pump and spare tube, as 'I wasn't going to be going that far'. Karma is a bitch.

'GARRRRREEEEEEETTTHHHHH'  I shouted as loudly as I could, but it was to no avail. The 2-mile walk/push back to the car was a chance to remind myself never to make the same mistake again. I should have gone to Afan after all. Never mind, it was a great day for a walk through Ystradgynlais.