mediocre mountain biker: Is Wales a country??

When twenty-ten rolled around, I made a pledge to ride in 3 new countries this year. I'm not one for resolutions and all that, but I definitely want to ride more, and in new places. Meanwhile, I've been aching to ride in wales for years now, from before GG and I had our Scottish adventure. But you can already see the dilemma...does Wales count as a country?

Let's see. They have their own incomprehensible language (with far too many consonants, in my opinion). They have their own national sports teams in international competition. Flag? Check. National identity? Check. Is that close enough? Perhaps I should hold my decision until the end of the year.

This was waiting for me in Wales...

So finally the day had come. I had a free day and was in London. That meant I was going to Wales! About 2 hours from the sister's house in west London, I planned to make a day trip out of it. Wales, like Scotland, has a number of purpose-built riding centers just for mountain bikes!!! Pure genius. The original plan was to hit Afan, a center (or should I say, centre) just outside of Cardiff. An uber-epic 46km loop of single track was waiting for me. Unfortunately, those plans were derailed when the most absurd showing of traffic control ever played itself out, right in front of me. ONE TRUCK turns over. ONE TRUCK. The result? Full stop on the freeway, for all traffic. For two hours.

Now I'm sure there are those among you who are saying, just as I did, two hours? With the engine off? For one overturned truck? Didn't the British build one of the largest empires of all time, stretching to all corners of the globe? Didn't they invent a bunch of stuff like subways and little tea sandwiches? Haven't they produced the two biggest rock bands of all time? The answer to all these questions is yes. But somehow, the 21st century skill of traffic routing has evaded this quaint little island. It defies logic, is all that I can say, having experienced it first hand.

This was my view for 2 hours...

End result - new plans. 3 hours later, I passed the singly overturned truck, and headed to a closer riding center - CWMCARN. Now, I have no idea how to pronounce that, but that's not important. What's important was that it was TOTALLY AWESOME. I can say with confidence that it's the most fun I've had on a mountain bike since August, when I was in Oakridge with the boys. 15.5km of delicious singlerack. So so tasty.

It started with a nice opening gambit, a steep little stair-case track strewn with rocks. After some rolls, it settled into a fantastic and extremely technical singltrack climb right alongside a bubbling brook. Green moss and everything. I had just ridden a road bike for multiple hours the day before, but the goesting was high, weather was perfect, and I was so excited to be on fun trails.

At the top there was a pretty ok view, followed by a peeing-in-pants-inducing descent. Fast, fast, fast, bermed to the brim, and fun. Some choppy stuff as well - part of the fun in riding here was the different terrain, dominated by flat rocks in every shape and size. After some more climbing, more descending, hill traversing, more descending, and more climbing, the final descent brought me back to the parking lot. It was brilliant - a roller coaster line of very tacky soil and seemingly endless berms. Like Whistler for 5-inch bikes.

So yes. Wales basically rocks. English traffic people do not. But I will be back in Wales...there are heaps of trails waiting to be devoured.

The riding "centre" had a pretty nice little cafe and info area