Photographs by Ray HardmanA stiffish headwind challenged me all the way to the tea rooms. Two earlier arrivals shaded their eyes from my screaming yellow cycle top as I ordered my tea and tea-cakes (£1:80 total - Whew!). Then, following a chat, a prompt start was made to head for Pontblyddyn, along the side of the Alyn. On turning left there was a sign showing 8 miles to Llandegla but not warning that 6 of them were uphill. The murky winter day was being pushed aside by glimpses of sunlight trying to give an appreciation of what spring can be like. Up (and up and up) through the trees alongside the stream gushing its way down to the Alyn and all in the absence of wildlife - just the sheep looking contented as the sun's fingers slipped further into their winter fleeces. No new lambs yet but in another month they will have a lot to do. A brief respite of a couple of hundred yards at Rhydtalog saw a little downhill but only to have to now select the middle ring for a harder lump up to the Llandeglas. A little unexpected rain had the waterproofs out and back on the bike with it completely dry again; but they could stay on for the helter skelter down the steps. The Clwyds came into view, lit up with the sun and enjoyed as the downhill took us to Pant. Here a lady walking three dogs advised it to be safe to pass through but I found it difficult with a dog licking my front tyre - it was coming clean. And then it was left onto the A525 to pass the Trout Farm and resist calling in to sample Stephanie's bacon sandwiches and home baking, but to carry on along the old road to Bwlchgwyn to make sure I reached the highest point of the highest village in Wales. Heading down to the steps for nearly three miles to Cefn y Bedd and the warmer climbs forming the edge of the Cheshire plain, the plain itself was now bathed in sunshine. With lunch beckoning there was a little urgency in dispatching Llay and Marford on the way to Vernon's at Holt. Refreshed, it was on through Farndon and into the wildlife at last. A buzzard skimmed over the hedge to check out if there was any life left in my legs, thought better of it and veered away to chase something else. Rooks were up in the taller trees, glitters of starlings in the fields and blue tits along the hedgerows. I carried on through Tattenhall to round the castle (weakly coloured in today's light) at Beeston and head back home, picking a route to avoid the lessening wind. Total round trip was 72 miles. Elevation -you bet. Verdict: glorious.
RH
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