Dragon Chasing
Coed Y Brenin 11th and 12th September 2004

It had started as an idea and quickly grown wings to become a reality and now, after much eager anticipation, we were on our way to Wales. Although camping had been suggested it was quickly dismissed in favour of staying in a local Bunk House. We had booked at Braich Goch Bunkhouse (fantastic rate of £12.50 per night) and on arrival we received a warm welcome and a guided tour.
Clean and basic bedrooms and a number of bathrooms, a very well equipped kitchen, large lounge area, most importantly it had its own bar complete with table football and a pool table. www.braichgoch.co.uk

Roll call: Robcoll, Smudge, Jester, Del, Nick, Jenna, Duncan, Stefan, All the gear no Idea, Gruffbear, Goose and Claire.

The mickey taking took all of 5 seconds to start, having a coffee in the kitchen with a wee nip courtesy of Nick, which soon turned into restlessness as we waited for the rest to arrive before we could get out on the trails, if only we had known. Eventually the Reading contingent had finished with their preening especially the ever camp Gruffbear, we were out the door and making for the Mach 2 which was only a short drive away. I should have realised it was going to be bad when the local shepherd went past in his ark or was it Noah. It was raining when we left but by the time we arrived in the car park it had turned into a downpour, grown men tried to get some sort of shelter from a brick wall, not only were we at risk of getting washed away but we had lost half of the group. They showed up a short time later, Jenna had, had a ‘blonde’ moment and taken them to the wrong car park. The twelve strong peloton snaked out of the car park led by Nick for a bit of road riding. It wasn’t too long before we bumped onto the pavement and came to a halt ‘are we lost’ was the question ‘No I just want to put my apple core in the bin’ said Nick. Starting off again, Jester upset a local driver by nearly veering into his car as his foot slipped off the pedal, amazingly we all managed a co-ordinated right turn and began a gentle climb to the start of the Mach 2.

The rain continued to hammer down as we looked for the start, after a turn or two we went through a gate and found a stiff climb ahead ‘Welcome to Wales Boyos and Girlos’. Continuing up we levelled out only for the lead group to find the track stopped and a severe absence of signage, but plenty of Cow, Pig, Sheep, Duck and Goose (no not that one the one with feathers) dung all over the trail. Back down we went to the accompaniment of howling disc brakes, rejoining the now infamous Mach 2 trail, we continued to climb, coming to a junction we figured out a possible direction and started another climb. Stopping at a gate Robcoll bravely volunteered to go back down and check that we hadn’t missed a route sign. He found nothing so we headed ever onwards and upwards. Arriving at the next junction we found once again no sign, two Giraffes stopped us though asking ‘if we had seen Noah about’. Wet through we weighed up our options and how much daylight we had left, before making the decision to abandon the ride and head back down to the bunkhouse and go out early. The way down resulted in a puncture for Duncan and temporary loss of a screw off his quick release and then we lost Smudge and Nick briefly. Nick had called in at the farm to see if he could get directions to the next section but basically got ‘oi you get offa moi land’. The long downhill road stretch saw the latent roadie in us all coming out, as we cogged it down into Machynlleth.

Hot showers and a change of clothes back at the Bunk House saw everyone back in the bar in good spirits planning the night’s festivities. The bikes safely chained up in the Bunk House’s secure storage area and the drying room looking like a bike gear launderette. Stef, All the Gear and Del volunteered for driving duties to take us back into town. Two Aardvarks were looking a bit lost in the main high street would have thought they got on the ark first! We had a pint in the first pub we came too before moving on to the next one where we were lucky enough to get a table and a good meal with a few drinks before making our way back to the Bunk House.

Installed at the Bunk House bar once again we settled in for the night with some good company, Gruffbear showed off his wrist technique on the table football. People had a tendency to go missing for a period of time and then come back with strange looking eyes. Nothing iffy, just a lights demo taking place in the now legendary room 7, the local paper is now carrying a story regarding UFO’s seen locally late Saturday night.
With Gruffbear in tow we left the bar for a nightcap and a jelly baby and mini mars bar munching session in our room, which was you guessed it, number 7. Poor All the Gear and Del were trying to get off to sleep whilst Jester and the Bear proceeded to poison the air in the room good job the window was open. The effects of the whisky leading to schoolboy jokes and laughter, Gruff had a heart attack sitting cross legged on the floor; Smudge suddenly appeared on the floor in front of us with a mighty bang having jumped off his top bunk. God only knows what the people in the room underneath thought was happening, Smudge continued to amuse after Gruff had gone off in search of his bed. Digging out his mobile he proceeded to phone Gruff (who he had been calling Goose for the last 2 hours) and Goose a number of times but hey it was only 2.30 in the morning. Smudge had also taken to calling out to someone and when they replied with ‘what’ telling them to ‘f**k off it was gone 3.00 am when we finally went to sleep, All the Gear with one eye open just in case we came to trim an eyebrow.

7 o’clock Sunday morning and Jester was out of bed on springs much to the bedraggled and well hung-over Smudgers annoyance. With everyone packed, bikes stowed in and on cars and a few casualties a convoy of 7 cars and two men in a van rolled off from Braich Goch for the legend that is Coed Y Brenin. Spirits were high and the weather was dry as we made our way into Dolgellau stopping off for some fuel at the Little Chief.

Arriving in the car park we met up with Tatty Tiger and Doug and got our bikes ready to go, it was then that the heavens opened, we hid briefly under some trees before braving the downpour to ride onto the trails. The plan had always been to ride the MBR in the morning and do the Red Bull after lunch, so it was to the MBR we headed and certain death.

Riding under the sign you soon got a taste for what was to come as we started a stiff climb up the trail it did eventually level off and there was the first section waiting for us. It looked so innocuous, I will never forget that trail as long as I live, rolling into it nothing wrong so far, 100 yards along there were a few rocks, and then ‘Jesus they’ve dumped a rock garden over the trail’ as I hit the next part and that was how it continued all the way down. Just as you got your breath back and some feeling in your hands there was another section of rocks to navigate, reaching the bottom without stacking I allowed myself a big grin, the boys in front of me were stood there with equally big grins on their faces. The rest of the group came down safely although Del had a minor secret stack with no cameras to catch it.

Tatty Tiger very generously made the offer of showing Claire the sports trail so off they went to do that. Whilst we headed off along the next part this was particularly neat especially the rock formation, almost like a hump backed bridge just before the gate. A fairly flat trail followed before we rode over the bridge above roaring water and on to the next climb, a superb technical section followed a steady climb over lots of pebbles and rocks, one of those, keep going because if you stop you will struggle to get going again.

Regrouping again at the top we had barely said ‘look what’s coming’ when the rain started again, up a short climb, and it was onto a great section of rocky single-track complete with a boulder three quarters of the way along. Then it was a relatively fast section of single-track just a few rocks to negotiate before the lights went out, well a section that suddenly went into the woods that were dark and gloomy and just to keep you on your toes there was a steep drop if you wandered to far too the right, coming round a corner took you down the hillside with a sharp left at the bottom which caught more than one of our group out. This section got a big thumbs up from all, before we embarked on the ‘grandmother’ of all climbs, steep and never-ending or so it seemed at the time. More rocky single-track beckoned and this one was a delight, about halfway through, it banked ever so slightly and led you onto some stone flags before pitching you towards a couple of drop offs before it spat you out grinning like a fool.

Nick plays in the rock garden	Doug swoops down on Del	all the gear nails the downhill as Jester looks on

A gentle downhill stretch of fire road led us onto a steady almost enjoyable climb where at the top we found a clan of Mountain Bikers sheltering under the trees and Gruff, chainless rather than fixing his seat post. With a nip in the air a group of us rode on down a fairly steep descent to a rutted drop, Jenna had a ‘blonde’ moment when she nearly missed a sharp left turn.
Jester, having backtracked so he could try a drop again, made it only for it all to go pear shaped a couple of yards on as he narrowly missed going over the bars. Nick showed his caring ways once again ‘are you ok Jester’ ‘yeah just disorientated’ ‘well get out the way then’ shouted Nick.

The trail continued down for a good distance before putting you onto some ‘Cannockesque’ track along the side of a hill, a drop to your left once again concentrating the mind like nothing else does.
A short climb completed and it was almost done, a smiling but soaked group elected to do another long climb to catch the end of the Karrimor route. Rob Stef and Jester elected to make for the visitor centre.

All meeting up in the car park like drowned rats a speedy change followed and bikes stowed we were just about to leave for Dolgellau when two sheep ambled up ‘have you seen Smudge….?’ Arriving back in Dolgellau for an early tea, we managed to back up the traffic with our convoy as we parked up. Jester gave Goose a few heart stopping moments as Goose nervously drove his car with three bikes on the roof under the roof of the Pub’s garage shutter.

We managed to take over the dining room, but it was a tired group, more interested in filling their tummies than re-enacting the previous night’s shenanigans, then there was the mystery of Stef’s hot chocolate. Nick who had been in fine wisecracking mode all weekend was shut down in seconds, by the waitress ‘it’s a garnish’.
Jenna showed us all how much work she does on a Friday afternoon with the awarding of some natty homemade badges ‘Best use of Emoticons in a forum post’ went to Smudge ‘I stacked it at Coed Y Brenin ‘went to Jester.
Another bill paid, it was time for the group to make their weary way home thinking how they were going to explain those big grins to partners and work colleagues.
Did we catch any Dragons? Not this time but there’s always next year.

That’s about it for our first weekend away but we still have plenty going on, we are not stopping just because it’s dark or winter:
3rd of October is the Killer loop at Howgills, Date to be confirmed but we are at Cannock again in November. Proposed for spring next year is a trip up to 7 Staines and we will of course have the 2005 Dragon Chasing Weekend at Coed Y Brenin. Read this every month, still haven’t made a Forum ride, what are you waiting for, Smudge to pick you up?!!!!!

Words by Jester

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