Cyclone Day Trip

Thetford Ride (Number 1)

Only an hour and a half from Milton Keynes, Thetfords vast forest stretches for miles.
As you approach the visitors centre you can only imagine how it sprawls through the countryside.
Thetford is renowned for its fantastic singletrack and although it is flat there are still areas where you feel breathless; "That was fabulous" Matt exclaimed with a boyish, gleeful smile, "That was worth the trip in itself, that was awesome" he continued, after his first proper experience of what Thetford offered.

Most of the riders didn't know the area or what was in store, after all it was flat! Malcolm had brought his hardtail so he was in for a pasting. He was used to his `full-susser` and despite the fact there was no rocks, he found out that Thetford had its fair share of bumps.

Stephane was completely new to the joys of mountain biking and showed a good degree of fitness. A top effort since he had been at a concert the night before and had only managed a few hours sleep.
He 'warmed' to the area and was brave enough to wear shorts! But regretted not investing in some Spuds since he said he felt like a windmill when coping with some of the more technical trails.
As he departed he said happily that he would surely get a good nights sleep tonight!

Steve Pope was back on familiar territory and feeling smug. He had the best weapon of all. A steel hardtail, and probably the best choice for Thetford. It allowed him the comfort for day of bashing and smashing his limbs and since the weather was dry didn't need disc brakes (that he didn't have) at all!

The day was segregated by lunch back at the visitors centre, a sprinkling of power bars and hot tea and coffee, accompanied by a supply of Gavin's jelly babies. Spirits were high and everyone spoke of the earlier action.

It was Simon's first trip out and he was giving his new steed its maiden voyage on `proper` terrain. He had been putting plenty of effort in at the gym but was finding `real` mountain biking more strenuous than he thought. Despite seeming to struggle he battled on and when he returned to the infamous 'Hails Run' for a second time he was more the confident and tackled it with gusto.

The run off area of 'Hails Run' (a.k.a The Beast of The East) is full of mountain bikers discussing its twists and turns. After the second run everyone said it was better second time over and talked about the sinews of the twisty, technical trail. It appeared it was the highlight of the day, and a definite for next time.

Back to 'The Black Route' and the effort it needed. Flat it was but you had to keep pedalling (and pedalling) ; there were no hills to coast down and a solitary bomb hole (Eh! Matt) The bomb hole appeared out of nowhere, planted within a simple forest trail, the only indication that it was there was a sign saying ' Warning - Extreme Caution `. There were no other clues but before you knew what was coming the drop was there, and as Matt said
"Whaaaheeee!"
Full of surprises round each corner the forest was full of bikers and most of them were going in the right direction!
But that didn't include us! The trails were one way. No one told us!!
The forest has different grades of trails and the only one to do was the Black one! Gavin had steered them round in the morning (the original guide Dave Griggs being out of action with a back infection) , so it was Matt who took the helm in the afternoon. (After a short detour and then eventually referring to the map - Thanks Gav!!)

Matt was used to whatever the trails threw at him, being an experienced rider he constantly commented on the virtues of his new found woods. He loved bringing us through to the end, and reflected how useful the radios had been that day when we had separated earlier. "A good investment, after all", I said.

It was indeed the perfect weather and the conditions were excellent. (Gavin was pleased since he may get away with not washing his bike for another week!) There was very little mud and no puddles!

On reflection Woburn has some fine singletrack, but Thetford is the daddy. Only a 90 minute journey away and with only a make-shift guide it will definitely be a place to be revisited later on this year.


Riders Gavin Vanner
Matt Smith
Malcolm Dorn
Stephane Jansem
Simon Garner
Steve Pope

Date: Sunday 28 March

Gavin V. Vanner

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Wales 2004

Day 1 Cwmcarn

Everyone always remembers their first experience of 'real' mountain biking. Whether it be a 'crash' course in Derbyshire, like it was for me (Jacobs Ladder and Mam Tor ( or Mid-Wales (Devils Staircase and the Splashes Ride) or even something more mundane like Thetford (Hails Run) you never forget that day!
The group had varying degrees of experience ut for all, this was their first trip to Cwmcarn and its solitary Whyte Twrch Trail. Short in length, under 10 miles, it was a case of big lungs for the first climb. (Eh? Matt)
This was due to be a weekend of big lungs and strong legs not to mention a good supply of water. The forecast was for fine weather, not just for the Friday - the first days riding - but for the whole weekend and sure enough we weren't let down. The hardest choice to begin with was what to wear!
It wasn't long before the first lung buster was climbed and shortly after before the trail took its first victim(s). It was Mark and Simon's first tumbles in Wales and their first experience of technical riding. Damp in places with a myriad of rocks and routes, finding the 'right' line was difficult and it didn't take much of an error to see you looking for the best place to land!
The hills then open up into the singletrack where you can hone your trail skills and see how much it has paid off for all those extra trips to the gym or extra miles in the woods at home. Cwmcarn singletrack is one of the finest in the country. Big grins were shared by simmering brake blocks (or discs) and the more you rode the better the trail became. Switchbacks a plenty, shared by rooty climbs washed down with a gentle hop, skip and jump over more rocks. It was typical Welsh singletrack!
The trail belied its miles and refreshing water breaks were welcome if only to give you more energy for the next section.
More climbing was sprinkled with excitement and the chance to see some native adders frolic in the undergrowth. (An interesting sight to behold once you'd climbed yet another big hill).
New riders mixed with the old and experienced and more tumbles were shared with laughs and joles!
More rests saw energy replaced and more opportunity to attack the trails with gusto. One last final climb to the summit and an opening in the barriers for one final descent. Brakes ready (no more so than for brake friendly happy Nick) and off we go!
Arguably one of the trails best features was 'that' final descent. A mixture of burms, rocks and routes and an odd place to put a sheer road climb, and off down again, avoiding looking down the scree to the impending drop!
Steeper and faster it became, eyes opening wider, hands sweatier, adrenalin running higher, Quicker and quicker your reactions becoming, steeper the drop!
One final glance at the car park some 150 feet down and realisation the end was ner. One extra pedal and the last descent was over.
An almighty "Yeah" was shared by all, and another trail in Wales was over. Until next time, anyway!

Day 2. The Wall. Afan Goed.

Trepidation was in the air on day two. Everyone now realised the extent of the Welsh trails. It was decided during a make-shift breakfast that we should decide the 'best' route to take. The longest and newest route was not open yet so the choice wasn't as great but just as good nevertheless.
Afan Goes offered a number of trails. 'The White Trail' was probably the most difficult with the highest degree of technical riding involved, and the longest. It contained bigger rocks stepper drop off's and long singletrack climbs. The other two trails were similar in length but offered different types of terrain. Essentially, 'The Wall' had the most exiting finale of a switchback drop that descended for many miles. Climbing up to it was the drag since most of that wasn't particularly technical, although that may suit some riders.
'Te Penhydd Trail' was the rawest of the trails and the original train of Afan Goed. It had a number of technical sections but not as many as the others and also contained a couple of water crossings. The simplest of the three it would be for the trail on Sunday.
It was through that this was the best option to ride the six to seven miles to the start, at the Visitors Centre so the riding started straight from 'The Camp'.
Today was the day of Nick's infamous brakes (the ongoing saga) and his now legendary trail friendly baguettes. With every ones breakfast attempting to repeat itself we arrived at the visitors centre. It was another beautiful day and other riders wer all singing the raises of their mornings' ride.
It was 'The Wall' that would be our challenge and armed with tucker and water, Malcolm's trail tools (and map) and Nick's baguettes we set off.
After a tad of confusion with the first part of singletrack, the trail crossed a picturesque bridge tat encouraged a couple of photo opportunities. It was also a chance to show off any war wounds that the trail had taken and to check up on yesterdays scrtches and bruises.
The climb was long and once at the summit of the fire road, it was another chance to refuel as the trail continued ever upwards. A quick dash into the trees saw us reminisce yesterdays ride, a mirror image of the trails from Cwmcrn. Grip was good throughout, tyre choice not essential, since the terrain was perfectly dry but demanded lots of upper body strength from the constant pounding felt from the forks. It was now that the former days of riding was taking its toll on the backs and bums f everyone bar Malcolm) the hard ass, hardcore hardtrailers contemplating suspension or at least a suspension seatpost to quell the agony.
More switchbacks saw the trail dance thoughout the trees and smiley faces were greeted at every gate-stop that we encountered. (A welcome rest to some).
More climbing disappeared into more rocky, rooty sections before a quick blast downhill for another quick rest and time for Nick baguettes. Provisions running low it was a welcome time for a stop, even if it were at the bottom of a bi climb (eh! Matt?).
More rocks and more roots and the trail now had to climb to the very top of the woods. Split up into different stages the climb in places took you by surprise. One moment you were on a small decline the next a must steeper incline. Disorientated, the climb meandered through the trees some more before finally resting on a small fire road. A crowd stood in the way of the final descent and Gavin saw fir to make the way by brushing past a by-stander and almost knocking him into the undergrowth! (he was riding a full-suspension bike so Gavin thought he'd show him the merits of a hardtail!). "Lead the way" was the call, and off we went.
The final descent was what everyone was waiting for and with great anticipation all wondered if the long climbs had been worth it. 'The Wall' had a big reputation to live up to and it so surely it had to live up to it?
'Slam!!' went the fork on the first gnarly bit. 'Whack!!' was the sound permeating through your saddle. Perspiration turned into sweat, seat turned into a flowing river as shirts became wetter and wetter. Palms heated as if under a grill as grins turned into grimaces, excitement into elations, trepidation into concentration. This was a downhill for the big boys and it wouldn't suffer fools gladly. Down and down, over rock and scree, root and boulder to a crescendo of complete satisfaction.
Steed and body intact. 'The Wall' had been ridden.
15 minutes later everyone was down and the meander back to base on the road was all that was left. A quick race to the accommodation was washed down with a splattering of drink, some alcoholic. (Eh! Malcolm) and time to relax by the river.
Cooling down and resting time to share emotions and saviour the evenings entertainment with more trail stories!

Day 3. The Penhydd Trail. Afan Goed.

Thers's nothing like good breakfast to start the day off and that's exactly what we needed. The toilet was finally giving into the torrent of abuse it had encountered from the Indian meal the night before and the Italian food hadn't taken too muc of its toll, nevertheless 7 guys and one toilet don't mix well!
It was Neil who had flown the flag with the climbs and was he the held mantle for the 'best' digestive system (poor toilet), if only he hadn't sat on the loo so muc he sould have been even quicker. Had he also saved his stomach he may have decended quicker! (sorry Neil).
The final day had again started with sunshine and the excitement of another fast, dr ride. Todays ride would again start from 'Camp', but this time we would follow the ridge behind the accommodation until reaching the road. We would then join the trail half way round.
Todays ride was the least manmade and it offered a splattering of what the other trails had to offer and some natural woodland too, similar to that at Woburn.
Map in hand it was a chance to test Malcoms ordance skills as we had to dissect the trail from basic maps. The trail at the back of the camp took us up the the ridge until we reached a road climb and a big one at that. The road disappeared round a benda carried on up. After turning onto a makeshift fireroad we sought reference in the map again which suggested another climb up an ascarpemnt. (More climbing!) A chance for a photo shoot to demonstrate the hills and another look at the map. The climbing was starting to take its toll and some even wondered if we would find the 'proper' trail!
A short break over and another to check the map again things weren't looking too good. You could see where we had travelled from and it was an emtremely steep climb. Had we have taken the off-road route we may have had less climbing to do (hindsight is a wonderful thing).
It was then that Neil continued up the path, through the trees only to return to say "the trails up here boys!" and a welcome sigh of relief came from all!!
We had joined the trail on one of the simplier sections, a grassy but muddy fireroad that for the most part went downhill. Speed was good and everyone it the trail. Especially Simon who saw fir to launch himself into one of the muddy parts with a twisting, out-of-control splosh! (on the flat? What was he thinking about?).
More fireroad saw a tall climb in front of us that in turn disappeared into the trees then opened up to be greeted b twisty sections of open singletrack. The riding was fabulous mixing all the terrain that we had encountered the last couple of days. One section went into another segregated by the motorcycle unfriendly wooden barriers. Sections like 'Hidden Valley' and 'Sidewinder' gave enormous grin factors and then onto another. 'Dead Sheep Gully' just as good as the first! There was a short blast down hill and then some very technical roots and rocks amalgamating into a river crossing. The first of thee we were to encounter.
Arriving at a visitors centre it was decided that we should separate and Matt led a group back to 'Camp' on the road while Nick, Gavin, Malcome and Neil would continue the route. The climbing was long, not like the terrain from earlier which for the most part wasn't dissimilar Coed-y-Brenin or Llanwrtyd Wells (other excellent ride havens) so the ride now continued upwards!
**I'm not one for telling tall trail stories but during the ride I encountered a couple of hazards not usually associated with mountain biking. The first was when I had just ridden some singletrack through some undulating woods and when exiting was almost frightenend off my bike by an obstacle. A Kite! Not the one that you fly at the park but but a huge bird that flew across my path! I gues it was surprised by me!! It certainly surprised me!!
The second experience of the day was when descending the latter part of the trail, full of undulating smooth rocks the trail ws up high out in the open. Putting some power through the pedals I noticed something black in the middle of the trail. The trail was narrow so I concentrated on what it may be. As I approached it did not move, but once within 10 feet of the object I slammed on my brakes (I don't know what the others must have thought behind me, Why is he stopping?) but the black object turned out to be a big, fat toad!! Surely lost! And a complete surprise to me! Two of the most unusual trail hurdles in one day! Bizarre!!** (Note;Ed)
The final swansong was the manmade route that joined us to the trail that same morning only this time it was down! And what a storm. 30 miles per hour of grin factor on the first section, and then a tricky deliberation of the last technical descent of the day.
Not wanting to let the side down the long road descent turned into a peleton express back to 'Camp' true Tour-De-France style and time for everyone to completely wear themselves out. Arriving back exhausted it was time to refuel once again say our goodbes and enjoy a nice leisurely journey home in the sunshine.

Thanks to Paul Keating for organising the trip and accommodation - excellent. Thanks also for the gret weater. New friends were made and enemies encountered in the form of cycle gremlins (but they are there to be quashed the next time a Welsh trail is in sight.