Cycle tourists meet the RSF

(… in at the deep end!)

by Michelle Mills
(Crook, County Durham)

The day started off much like any other really, you know the type, five keen cyclists, some just acquainted, all looking forward to what was described as "A nice ride out to see Hells Pool. A spectacular place that hardly anyone has ever heard of, let alone visits."

Hmmm, I suppose alarm bells should have started to ring then (must have had it switched to the "trust your fellow cyclist mode"!) we were ready for inspection at 10am. Flasks of tea - check. Sandwiches - check. Waterproofs (it was August in Wales after all!) - check.

Wagons roll. It all seemed very "Famous Five go to Dorset." It wasn't long before things took a turn for the unexpected...

My partner and I are cycle tourists; we have travelled all over the world and have had lots of interesting and memorable experiences. This year though we decided to tour a bit closer to home as we have encountered so many problems and damage transporting our bikes by plane (you name it, it's happened to us!)

So in June we took our tandem by ferry to Ireland for a three-week tour. Ironically the bike got wrecked anyway! We were only four days into the tour when a motorist who hadn't seen us on a roundabout, knocked us down and ran over the front of the tandem.

Shaken but not deterred (or seriously injured, luckily) we bought two new solo touring bikes in the beginning of August and headed for a tour of Wales. Surely things couldn't too rough there; could they? We followed the Welsh National cycle route from north to south, then on our way back up towards the west coast on our way to Holyhead we thought we would spend a night at Blaencaron Youth Hostel, two miles out from Tregaron.

It turned out that the volunteer warden was a member of the RSF, and had some of his fellow members staying too. They were some of the nicest people we've met; in fact we ended up staying for four nights! We all shared our cycling tales and experiences and had a good time. Someone even brought some homemade cider, which went down a treat! Then on the second evening it was suggested (by the warden) that we join them on a ride the next day. It sounded like a good idea, so we agreed. No reason not to we thought. (Oh, that wonderful thing - hindsight)...

We rode into Tregaron first to find it was market day. I spotted a huge tray of flapjack (perfect cyclist's tucker), so I bought one for us all to share later. We set off again just as the heavens opened, so out came the coats and capes. The route was excellent never the less, virtually traffic-free (as is much of Wales actually), quite a few tough climbs, which we enjoy, and beautiful scenery. We turned off the road onto farmland in quite a remote area where we had to dismount as there was a steep climb on a slippery slate surface. It didn't help that we were being chased by a couple of angry dogs at this point! But all this was quite normal for us so far and I foolishly began to wonder what all the fuss of being an RSF member was all about.

That's when we got to the top of the hill and I saw the ferns and the bog! It looked impassable. But our leader assured us we could get through as he had made the same journey two months before. But that was before the ferns had reached "Jurassic" proportions. They were up to our chins. As no-one had thought to bring a machete we had to do our best to fight our way through. It was torrential rain by this time and not only were we getting soaked from above but we were up to our knees in freezing cold bog water. We soldiered on. Pushing away we were covered in ferns, not to mention the bikes. It was then one of the party asked me if he should send me an application form for the RSF membership - Ha! Ha! It's not always like this he jested. It's a good job I've got a sense of humour!

We eventually got out the other side of the ferns, which I wasn't sure was that much better. It was almost a sheer drop down a very wet grassy bank to the river, where Hell's Pool was. The idea was to go down to take a look and then have our lunch. Easier said than done when you are wearing SPD's. There were arms and legs flying everywhere. There were water bottles and flasks disappearing down the hillside, being swiftly overtaken by my other half who did a particularly spectacular "toboggan style" slide with an impressive 360 degree turn halfway causing us all to hold our breath (well, he was the one carrying the flapjack! - both survived intact.) it's no wonder all the sheep were staying at the top; and people say they're stupid.

Seeing Hell's Pool made it all worthwhile, it was stunning. But I couldn't help wondering if we were going to have to go back the way we came. We already looked like the cast of "Dad's Army"!

"No" said our leader "I think the best way is to continue down and cross the river."

His suggestion met with blank faces and open mouths.

"It's OK" he added reassuringly (he was very good at this) "It's quite shallow further round. We can form a human chain and pass the bikes across."

(I'm not making this up!!)

After another session of even higher ferns and deeper bogs that had been hiding round the bend (oh, joy!) we reached the part of the river that we had to cross. Not so much river as torrent, considering all the rain recently.

But it didn't seem to matter any more, we couldn't get any wetter, it was even becoming quite funny. I just wished I was a bit taller. We made the chain across the river and managed to pass all the bikes safely to the other side. Hooray!

It was actually a great sensation wading across and we all felt a real sense of achievement in our teamwork. After a short steep climb up the other side we were back on tarmac.

"So that's what the RSF is all about then." I said

"Sorry," came the reply "we thought you'd done it before!"

"Hmm," I said "I suppose the one good thing is; the next time we are on tour somewhere, cold, wet, hungry and looking for somewhere to camp we can always say - it could be worse, we could be in Wales with that crazy lot from the RSF!!"

Actually, all whinging aside we had a great day, it was certainly an experience and we've even done a bit of rough-stuff ourselves since we've been home, so couldn't have been that bad.

Anyway we would like to thank you all for your hospitality, it made our holiday. So, cheers Steve - top bloke! OK Norman - you've talked us into it, send us an application form.

Oh, and Simon - whatever did happen to the rest of that cider?