Rhayader

There are some places I just feel at home. Home is one of them, Colorado is another, the Isle of Skye and Rhayader follow closely after.

Each year, a mixed bag of us head off for the weekend. We stay at the Horseshoe Guest House (01597 810982 and www.rhayader-horseshoe.co.uk) to attend what is know as a 'Dirty Weekend', provided by Clive Powell MTB (01597 811343 and www.clivepowell-mtb.co.uk). One of Clive's Mountain Guides thrashes us round the Powys countryside for two days, then Clive's wife Francine spoils us with home cooked, local produce washed down with the odd wine and / or ale. We then sit and tell tall tales of imaginary exploits into the evening. Tales that are exaggerated more every year and are only interrupted periodically by one of Clive's one-liners. Clive Powell has done everything we have, and more - but longer, faster and better.

This year (L-R) Adrian, John, Paul, Jason, Sarah, Mike and Nigel attended and enjoyed another two days of rain-free riding in the wilds of Powys. Saturday was a trip out to the East and, after a few warmup road-miles, we went cross country and into the woods.

It wasn't wet, but it has been wet recently and some of the trails are a bit mucky, especially where the forestry workers have been harvesting. There was a little too much 'track' and not enough 'single' in the equation if truth be known, but it was riding with mates and that's always good.

The advantage of having a local guide is that they are pretty up-to-date with the state of the trails and can alter the routes to suit the conditions. Clive planned, and James delivered, a balanced portion of climbs and descents over the course of a very enjoyable morning, but we were all ready to pig-out by the time we met Clive and his picnic hamper in a forest clearing.

I'll keep the exact location under wraps because we shared this part of the forest with one of our rarest and most elusive raptors, the Goshawk. We didn't see the 'little' fella but the huge nest looked very impressive. This thing is like a Sparrowhawk on steroids. Big, fast and ferocious. They live in dense coniferous forests, glide with folded wings between branches at high speed to hunt and they live off small prey and the remains of broken and discarded mountain bikers. Perhaps we'll spot you next time ..

The afternoon served up some 'secret' singletrack, nice descents and two short sections of twisty, muddy downhill - one of which I rode well, one I rode like a numpty. Eventually, we were out of the forest and back on the roads for the return leg and we illegally drafted Sarah all the way back into Rhayader, the bike wash and a large portion of soup du jour, lamb shank, seasonal vegetables and banofee pie. Francine manged to create this little feast in-between catering for a wedding of 250 guests over the road and sorting the following days menu for us. Francine, what can we say that we have not said already ...

Day two always dawns with achy legs and a hastily re-structured route to allow for the fact that everyone is wasted. There must be a misprint though - this route says 'ride up the mountain road twice' !? Well, I spend all week making decisions, so tend to go with the flow at the weekends. Off we went, up the hill, slower than a slow thing.

The reward is a great descent of the 'Golf Links' which is a BOAT (byway open to all traffic) I think. Anyway, we have been disturbed by 4WD's in the past, as well as being sprayed with shingle from the rear wheels of passing motor bikes too, but today was pretty much perfect. Pretty dry, no traffic, no obstacles, just one accommodating MTB'er making his way up the hill who jumped out of Jon's way sharpish - as you would if you saw Mr Incredible approaching on a bike at speed.

The top section is OK, but as soon as you get going, there is an unnecessary transition to the second half and this involves an unwelcome climb to the obolisk before it all kicks off again.

Sarah and Mike, upwards and invariably against the wind, to the start of the fun.

One day I will get some action pictures, but it's too enjoyable to stop. Jon, Adrian and I led down the hill and arrived in a giggling mass at the bottom. Awesome dudes !

Back up the Mountain Road ? Nah, let's climb back up the Golf Links, at least it is a technical challenge in parts and no-where near as boring as the tarmac or as exposed to the wind that funnels down the valley.

It didn't seam long before we were at the top and making the next choice. Half of the guys wanted to 'shred the links' again, so they turned round and fired the front wheels homeward. Jon, Mike, James (L-R) and myself had a date with Rhydoldog, so we set off cross-country and over the road to despatch the short, sharp climb up from the river.

After a quick breather and photo-stop we were off again. This route in particular is why I love riding a bike in Powys. No people, no roads, rough and often indistinct tracks, rocks, bogs, two submerged sections of track (one with water over the BB) and lotsa tricky bits. And then a fast descent with a little of everything. Smooth paths, rough paths, small drops, rocks, kickers, grassy rakes. One day I'll get some action pictures, but ... you know the rest.

Down 'Breakneck' bridleway (one mile, down, straight - I hate it with a vengeance. A pointless way to lose hard-won altitude) and then through some hidden paths to the final singletrack section through the Oak Wood. Stunted Welsh oaks on an unremarkable hillside close to an unremarkable little village in Powys and perfect in every way. I'm not telling you exactly where it is.

This bike can do anything but perhaps not with me as the pilot.

Shower, lunch, exaggerate (again) and suddenly it is over. Do we really have to wait another year before we return. I think not.

Thank you to all my friends who don't mind riding with me, until next time.