Ride Report : Afan Forest Trail Centre
It's taken me a few weeks to find the time to write up my visit to the Afan mountain bike trails but hopefully it's better late than never. To set the scene... I had picked Afan as I fancied somewhere more remote than my experience at the Forest of Dean and I hoped this area of Welsh Forestry Commission land would fit the bill. My initial car journey took me westerly along the Heads of the Valley road towards Swansea. It's a road which gives more reward the further you travel along it. A multitude of annoying roundabouts and the surroundings of marshy barren hilltops still scarred and ugly from their industrial past gives way to a wide valley with the attractive River Neath wending it's way by a pleasant dual carriageway for many miles. The inaccessible nature of the landscape means that I must overshoot my destination for lack of roads across the mountaintop and have to double back at Neath, from which the increasingly small lane winds its way through a tiny strung out mining village called Pontrhydyfen, clinging to the side of the valley and characterised by two industrial relics, an old viaduct and aqueduct which rise up over the road and dominate with their scale. It also happens to be the birthplace of Richard Burton.
A left turn and I'm heading up another valley, chiselled out by the river Afan. The landscape here is almost claustrophobic, the road being only just wide enough for two cars to pass, dropping away to the river on the left with the wall of the valley beyond it, and rising up immediately to the my right. These places must only see the sun for a little of the day so steep are the sides. It also explains why there are so few roads as you would need an endless amount of hairpins if you tried to assault the sides directly. Perhaps this is something I should have taken note of before choosing which trail to ride... but more on that later...
First on the agenda was some lunch. I am coming to discover than cafes at places like this are much the same. A small selection of carb heavy, unsophisticated food is all that's to be obtained. A salad leaf or two if you're
very lucky. I stuffed myself full on fried eggs, chips and beans, then wondered at the wisdom of this as I staggered forth from the cafe. Good job I'm on an ebike! Hopefully I can get away with such a full stomach!
Taking a look at the well laid out map boards at the entrance to the trail, I took to the first (and easier) of two that I had planned. 'The Blue Scar' trail is 7km long and climbs the shallower side of the valley, up behind the trail centre. The first part of the ride concentrates on gaining height as hairpins carry you up hillside devoid of trees but with wispy yellow grass waving in the breeze to make the field of tree stumps a little more attractive.
The lay of the land on the first part of the trail.
The reward for the climb comes in the form of some lovely rollers and a nice fast section that gives you an appetite for speed. Too soon it's at an end leaving you hungry for more. This bit turned out to be my favourite part of Blue Scar and was followed by a most uninspiring piece of wide forestry track which ran through the 'nuclear wasteland' type of cleared hillside by a stream which was probably lovely when it had trees around it.
This hill felt like it went on forever. Woe betide what it must feel like on an unassisted bike. I think Cwm Rhaeadr has given me very high expectations to beat in terms of pleasant ambience whilst climbing.
It's churlish to complain about a climb on an ebike but I was still glad to reach the top and ride the next bit of fun. I love some of the names on these trails and the section that proclaimed itself 'The Widow Maker' in a ridiculously over the top way, sent a shiver of excitement down my spine.
Can I survive the peril? Look there's a cross where the unwary have fallen!
'Widow Maker' did turn out to be a nice fun section of kinky rollers and was followed immediately by some big berms. And I mean BIG berms (a berm is a bend with the edge banked right up if you've never heard of one before). The only problem with them was that the bottom of the corner was over an inch deep in loose slatey rock, grit and dried dirt, all pooled up and in a shifty mass ready to skitter away at the slightest pressure. I'd clocked this threat and managed to make the first couple by a judicious combination of cautious speed and trying to hit an upper line away from all the debris. However, my luck ran out on a particularly bad one which probably should be approached by hurtling at it like a loon and being almost horizontal as you fly round the banking, taking the very topmost piece of the berm and avoiding all the crud. But I'm all too aware that if I overcook things that hard and fast then I'm going to fly off the corner and be airborne over the tree stump filled hill. So this particular bend, I can't remember if there even was a safe line, but I didn't see it and so I ploughed into the rubble. I know from motorbiking that going at bad surface is doable in a straight line but whilst cornering is a problem. This knowledge is equally transferrable to a bike and so trouble was inevitable since I am not some sort of drift Goddess that could skid it round the bend. As the tire moved sideways beneath me I tried to make some sort of save by falling uphill, but my futile attempt failed and it toppled into the side of the bend which fell away. I was launched into the air and somehow (for the second time) managed to land catlike on my feet. The bike as not so lucky and suffered more minor scuffs to the front fork and a graze to the brake lever.
Thank goodness I ride these trails at quiet times. My pride had just taken quite a hit. Before then I was some sort of enduro queen with leet bike control skills. Now I felt like a kid who needed stabilisers. I wish I'd photographed the berm to see where I went wrong and recall it for posterity, but as usual, I was so embarrassed by my off that I frowned at the scratches then jumped straight back on. This little blip distracted me from the rest of the ride somewhat. There were nicer twists and turns to come, and a few stretches of pretty trail dotted with deciduous trees. And even a bit of boardwalk crossing a stream next to a nice bench where I took a breather.
I finished 'Blue Scar' and returned to my car for a brief pit stop. My heavy lunch was now somewhat digested and although I was annoyed at my failure on the blue berm I felt that it was a silly mistake and that I should go ahead and keep challenging myself with a longer red trail.
There's a mining museum next to the cafe and this pit wheel right by the car park.
