As we scanned the extensive breakfast menu at Abergavenny’s Angel Hotel, the day’s first challenge was deciding how much to eat. A big day demands someone to moan to, so I’d roped in Chris Moores, a long-time ride buddy who, 10 years my junior and 10kg lighter, always keeps me on my toes. It was early June, and he was quick to get his excuses in about being woefully short on miles, but I assured him muscle memory would see him through. We’d hit the Tumble within a couple of kilometres, meaning a full English – or should that be a full Welsh? – would be too much ballast to drag up a 16% slope on cold legs. Instead, I opted for two eggs, a sausage, beans, and toast. Then more toast. Every carb would count over the nine hours of riding ahead.
The Brecon Beacons National Park covers 1,347sqkm (520sqmi), and three years ago its Welsh name Bannau Brycheiniog was officially reclaimed – Bannau meaning ‘peaks’, and Brycheiniog referencing the early medieval kingdom that covered the area. I’d ridden here many times, but never attempted a ride like this: covering the entire National Park from east to west and back again, ticking off all seven major passes – my definition of ‘major’ being those that have featured in races for generations. Plotting the route was great fun, right up until I clocked the final stats: 250km with 4,000m of elevation. I was going to need that extra toast.
We rolled out of Abergavenny on a cool, dry morning and hit the Tumble barely warmed up. With breakfast sitting heavy, we were doing uncomfortable battle with one of the kingdom’s most feared ascents. Famous for hosting a multitude of races, including a recent brace of Tour of Britain summit finishes, its unrelenting 10-16% gradients offer no chance for recovery or gathering of thoughts. My legs felt dire from the off, so we just ground it out. This was no time for heroics; it was going to be a long day.
Halfway Hardship
(Image credit: Andy Jones for Future)
With one giant climb in the bag, it was straight onto the next: Llangynidr Mountain – not the classic side but the opposite flank. We still got to enjoy the hairpins, flowing down rather than crawling up them. One thing you’ll notice about riding the Brecon Beacons is that, unlike the Yorkshire Dales or the Lake District, the gradients are slightly shallower. This makes them a touch easier to ascend and a lot faster to descend. Whereas dropping down the passes of Cumbria is a brake-grabbing fright show, these descents flow and sweep much like the Alps, allowing you to truly enjoy your free speed. As for the Welsh road surfaces, they aren’t merely better kept than England’s crumbling gave us a helping hand to the exposed, weather-beaten summit.
This was the most westerly point of the ride, and with 100km in the legs, we were starting to think of lunch. There was no time limit on today’s ride, so we could stop for actual food instead of inhaling a couple of gels and pressing on – the luxury! I’d picked out the Dwy Afon Cafe in Craig-y-Nos Country Park, which fell conveniently at mid distance. Not only was it perfect for our needs, but it’s also home to an excellent information centre explaining the geology of the area we were riding through – red sandstone layers giving the mountains their steep, flat-topped shapes and dramatic valleys.
Unfortunately, by now, Chris was starting to look a little dishevelled. He’d been pulling hard turns on the flat – maybe too hard, because he knows no other way to ride – and his head had dropped. I was having none of that, though. I told him we were halfway: let’s eat, recharge, and he’d be just fine. Sausage sandwich and chips wolfed down, it was back on the road and into a flurry of three passes network – they offer some of the smoothest, most unblemished tarmac this side of the Continent.
Riding up to Brecon, it was time to head west – as far west as we would go – so we jumped on the A40 and got it done. This is really the only downside to linking all the passes together: the roads running along the north and south of the park are unpleasantly busy, but it’s a necessary evil to knit together the climbs.
After an almost 40km slog – into a direct headwind, I might add – we made it to the base of Black Mountain. It’s a 7.2km monster of a climb with sensational views and a picture-perfect hairpin, perhaps the most spectacular in Britain. Again, we tapped out a steady rhythm, with the peak ahead of us and the ever-improving vista to our right. Sweeping left through the giant switchback, the wind that had been in our faces finally in quick succession, starting with the sensational Bwlch Cerrig Duon. This tiny sliver of a road, passing through immaculate scenery, was the perfect wake-up for our cafe legs. Flowing down the other side and picking through a succession of tiny, hedge-lined rural roads, we headed back south for a date with the Devil’s Elbow. Not to be confused with the significantly more evil Devil’s Staircase further north, the Devil’s Elbow is still fearsome enough to be worthy of its fiendish moniker.
The Devil’s Elbow
(Image credit: Andy Jones for Future)
At this point, even though we’d stopped for lunch, Chris was still consuming food like a human trash compactor. We raided the boot of photographer Andy’s car, and Chris demolished whatever he could find. The approach to the Devil’s Elbow was rugged and dirty, twisting into a cul-de-sac of towering valley sides with just one way out: up a wall of a climb. From a distance, catching sight of the road cutting its fearsome zig-zag into the side of the hill struck fear into the heart. Thankfully, it wasn’t quite as heinous as it had appeared; it never goes over 20%, but it was still by far the hardest ascent of the day.
By now, I could see Chris’s lights were starting to go out, and I had to switch to full Mr Motivator mode. “Come on, it’s all downhill after this,” I promised, lying through my teeth.
It feels far away from the madness of the modern world.
The backside of the Elbow is a rough old road. After some more climbing, we crossed to the A4059 for the next pass: an easy, big-ring ascent across Penderyn Moor. This is, without exaggeration, my favourite road in Wales. Surrounded by vast swathes of grassland that stretch to the horizon like some American Midwestern savannah, the immaculately surfaced road cuts through the serenity with you at its centre. It’s not so much a road as immersive therapy, a place of total and utter calm that feels far, far away from the madness of the modern world.
Back to the rat race, we joined the A470 and strapped in – because the next 10 miles are some of the fastest you’ll ever ride. In the shadow of Pen y Fan, the park’s highest point, we began one hell of a descent. We engaged our biggest gears, assumed an aero tuck, and gripped the bars for 20 minutes of pure adrenaline.
Riding on a high
(Image credit: Andy Jones for Future)
Once in Brecon, it was Coca-Cola time. We rolled into a petrol station, and right away I knew Chris had ‘gone’. He was exhausted, angry, and felt he’d let me down. He had not at all. Given he’d taken on this nine-hour epic from a base of doing the odd two-hour ride, he had done us both proud. Still, it didn’t lessen his dejection at having to abandon, loading his bike into the photographer’s car. I inhaled a Mars bar – they never used to be so tiny, I’m sure – and downed a Coke, and then I was off. There were 60km left, and I swear my legs hadn’t felt this good all year. I was feeling strong and loving it.
Come hell or high water, I was getting this ride done
There was just one giant hill left: the Gospel Pass. Arriving in Hay-on-Wye, I stopped briefly to snatch provisions from the car – including gilet and arm warmers, as it had started to rain, just in time for the final ascent. The Gospel Pass is worthy of its holy name, and with rain in the air and shafts of light breaking through gaps in the clouds like heavenly beams, it felt magical. With 220km in my legs, I was tiring but focused. Come hell or high water, I was getting this ride done.
Until now, I’d waxed lyrical about the quality of the roads on this ride. With hardly a blemish, they had been near-immaculate – but that ended with the descent off the back of this pass. With mud, debris, potholes, and barely wide enough for a single car, it really might be the worst road in Wales. At times, you’ll find yourself descending not much faster than you were climbing. Eventually, it improves, and before I knew it, I was closing back in on Abergavenny. The last five miles dragged a bit, but as I rolled into the car park at the Angel Hotel, I was on cloud nine. What a ride.
The Brecon Beacons are a magical place. Under clear skies, the endless views from every peak, stretching across lush green farmland and barren, windswept plains, are magnificent. The riding is hard but never savage – the perfect place to ride a bike. So, download this GPX, pick a ride buddy – ideally one who’s done a bit of training – and head to Bannau Brycheiniog. It will be a day out you’ll never forget.
The ride
Fancy giving it a go? Download the GPX route here.
The route Simon and Chris set out to ride
(Image credit: Andy Jones for Future)
KEY TRAVEL INFORMATION
WHERE TO STAY
We stayed at the Angel Hotel in Abergavenny (£175-275 per room per night), and I’d recommend it – the staff were friendly and the rooms fantastic. You can eat at the hotel, or there are plenty of restaurants in town. houseofcaradog.com/the angel-hotel
REFUELLING OPTIONS
We planned three stops but ultimately only needed two. At 61km, the Glanusk Cafe on the A40 just outside Sennybridge is a great early option, featuring a shop to fi ll up on water. For lunch, we hit the Dwy Afon Cafe in Craig-y-Nos Country Park on the A4067 (roughly 120km), which serves sandwiches, cakes, sausage rolls, and hot and cold drinks. Finally, Brecon has plenty of cafes, but in need of a quick sugar hit, we gulped down Coke on a petrol station forecourt.
BIKE SHOPS
If the worst happens and you need a repair, there is Gateway Cycles in Abergavenny: (gatewaycycles.co.uk); Bi-Ped Cycles in Brecon (bipedcycles. co.uk); and Drover Cycles in Hay on-Wye (drovercycles.co.uk).
OTHER THINGS TO SEE AND DO
The Brecon Beacons are also fantastic to explore on two feet as well as two wheels, highlights being the hike up to the highest point, Pen y Fan, and the quest to fi nd Llyn-Y Fan Fach, voted one of the most beautiful lakes in the world. If you’re a lover of fi ne whisky, then make a beeline for the Penderyn Distillery: penderyn.wales/tours-breconbeacons.
THE FAMOUS FIVE
These are the five most famous passes in the area. They’re also some of the best climbs in the country.
THE TUMBLE
Length: 4.7km
Height gain: 362m
Summit height: 473m
Average gradient: 8%
Max gradient: 16%
Strava segment: here
KOM: Afonso Eulalio, 12.27
QOM: Illi Gardner, 15.09
BLACK MOUNTAIN
Length: 7.2km
Height gain: 367m
Summit height: 498m
Average gradient: 5%
Max gradient: 8%
Strava segment: here
KOM: Ed Laverack, 15.58
QOM: Illi Gardner, 19.07
BWLCH CERRIG DUON
Length: 5.7km
Height gain: 260m
Summit height: 482m
Average gradient: 4%
Max gradient: 10%
Strava segment: here
KOM: Ben J., 11.42
QOM: Illi Gardner, 13.11
DEVIL’S ELBOW
Length: 1.9km
Height gain: 189m
Summit height: 453m
Average gradient: 10%
Max gradient: 20%
Strava segment: here
KOM: Andrew Feather, 5.36
QOM: Illi Gardner, 7.21
GOSPEL PASS
Length: 4.7km
Height gain: 278m
Summit height: 554m
Average gradient: 6%
Max gradient: 17%
Strava segment: here
KOM: Andrew Feather, 11.01
QOM: Illi Gardner, 13.15