The UK has thousands of miles of cycle paths, and one of its longest, National Cycle Route 4, runs from the centre of London to the shores of west Wales, following old railway lines across flat plains, country lanes up steep valley walls, and main roads through urban settlements over many hundreds of miles. In late August last year, I set off on a cycle ride that lasted for almost two days, with about 20 hours of my life spent peddling over a distance of 100 miles. While my original goal was to ride from my home in South Wales to the city of London, I reached my limits just as I was approaching the city of Bath in Somerset. It was perhaps the most trying experience of my life, and yet one of the most rewarding, and is one that come next summer I am eager to repeat and exceed. Naturally, I took plenty of snaps to share with you as I relay the trials and triumphs of my time on the trail.

In the space of four miles between Pyle and Aberkenfig, I managed to have three accidents. First, a thorn lodged into my rear tyre, forcing me to attempt to repair the inner tube until a kind stranger stopped to give me one of his spares (I forgot to bring any spares, stupidly). Then, I managed to fall off while going downhill, thanks to a little spider that landed on my face from out of nowhere. Finally, coming to a short, sharp hill, I switched gears down too quickly and mangled my chain. Following an impromptu break and a brief consideration of calling it quits, nevertheless I persisted on to my next checkpoint at Blackmill in the Ogmore Valley, and from there over my first valley wall into Tonyrefail on the Ely River.

Near Tonyrefail, and appearing in this picture, is the village of Gilfach Goch – literally the little red nook - and the origins its name are somewhat disputed. See, there’s one historian who claims it dates from industrial times, where it was named after “a heap of red cinders, which still remains as a momento of the ironworks that stood there in times of yore”. But then there’s another historian who claims that the name has ancient origins, and refers to a battle in which a Roman cavalry decision was routed by thousands of tribesmen called to arms by local druids; the red in the name recalls the blood of the invaders who died there, staining the land upon which they fell. It’s more likely to be the iron story – there is iron ore in the stream which runs near the village, but the latter is a nice story too. ^__^

Hope you enjoy!