A hill camp and a paddle near Brecon
In way of procrastinating over writing the current Sweden blog, here's one of a few days the week after I got back. There's plenty of paddling, but first an overnighter in the hills...
Thanks to various reasons, I'd booked two weeks off for a trip. In the end, I only used up one for Sweden so, after doing a couple of days work in between, I needed to do something with it. A trip to the Lake District and my parents in Notts filled most of it, but the weather stopped any planned wild hill camping I wanted to do. So where could I go on my way between Notts and Surrey. Wales, of course, its only a few hundred miles extra...
Having made this decision at breakfast time on the Thursday, it was getting close to 5.30pm before I actually pulled up in a layby on a quiet road beneath the escarpment of the main Black Mountain massif, west of Brecon. I squeezed my gear into my 40L winter daysack, strapped my newish tiny tent to the outside, and headed uphill straight into the evening sunshine.
My target was a lonely Llyn, below the ridge, where I hoped to find a fairly sheltered spot to hide from a 20-30mph wind. After trudging up soft slopes that would be tough going in a wetter year, but were very simple now, I arrived at the beautiful lake and found a flat spot sort of sheltered by a mound.
The tent is a Six Moon Designs Lunar Solo and whilst I've used it before, this was the first trip to the hills with it. Weighing only about 700g, its very light, but is only a single skin, pitching with a walking pole or a little bendy carbon pole. Its also remarkably spacious for one, with plenty of space. I spent the short couple of hours before full darkness cooking a quick meal and watching the light fade from the day over the distant Brecon Beacons whilst drinking my one and only can of Brew Dog IPA.
At around this time I realised I'd forgotten my headtorch. No worries, I keep a tiny emergency version in my first aid kit. That would be the canoeing first aid kit that I'd stripped down to a minimum just before leaving the car...the spare torch being in the bit of the bag with the canoe repair kit in it that I removed, of course. OK, so it was going to be a long, dark night!
I had my book on the phone, so could at least read. The wind was moderately strong and, as so often in such places, swirling randomly around. The tent stood up to it with barely any movement of the pole and it would clearly handle much stronger winds with little problem. Except for one thing. The taut flysheet had just one area that resonated perfectly with modest wind speeds, fluttering right next to my right ear. It was actually worse in the lulls between gusts, in the stronger gusts the flapping was more of a normal flap that I'm very much used to, not a "thrum" 6 inches from my head. 04
The earplugs were in the other half of the first aid kit tooj,. It was quite a long night.
I woke from a fairly restless sleep to low clouds at first light, around 6am. I knew that proper rain was due by 8am, so got on with a decent coffee and a bit of brekkie, before dropping camp and heading downhill.
I reached the car at 7.55 after an easy 40 minute walk. The rain was bang on time 5 minutes later, proper rain that I was glad I'd missed. After an hour's doze, I headed for the cafes of Brecon.
Later that day saw me established on a far less wild camp, at the excellent Pencelli Farm site by the banks of the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal. So from now on, its a paddlin' blog!
That evening I went for a quick hour and a half's paddle to the east towards Talybont. And a very relaxing paddle it was, but the photos weren't up to much as the light was gone, so I seem to have edited them out...
It was now Saturday, and the forecast was pretty good. Only a modest breeze, and mostly sunny spells. I decided a paddle to Brecon was in order. The shady put in is a rough bank down a gravelly path from the immaculate grass of the campsite, about 50m carry at a guess.
Here the canal is wooded, as it is for quite a lot of its length, a lovely peaceful spot. The bridges are particularly pleasing shapes on this navigation, which dates to the very end of the 18th century.
The canal is a great example of a "contour canal", winding its way along the side of the valley, quite high above the River Usk, but way below the summits of the hills above.
There are decent put ins all along the canal, some of them with signed markers. There are, though, a few bridges that are less canoe-friendly when lowered...
The next few miles were a long, meandering loop, a lovely peaceful passage beneath trees or the slopes of the hills.
The swans here seem to be well trained to swim in formation.
Beyond Storehouse Bridge, a marina marks the start of a more open section, where the highest summit of the Brecon Beacons, Pen y Fan, pokes its head over the fields. By now, there was very little breeze reaching me, and the reflections were lovely.
Having gone through a huge long loop, the canal comes closer to the Usk, entering a sloping woodland parallel to the river, but a hundred feet above it or so. From the canal you can't see the river, but I did stop and find an easy way down to it.
Some of the bridges have "stretched", slightly worryingly, as the slope has shifted. They have been thoroughly reinforced now!
The canal crosses the Usk on a fine aqueduct at Brynich. There wasn't much water in the river below!
Immediately after is a lock. Its a slightly awkward portage when alone, as there are two large gates to open, and passers-by kept trying to close them before I could carry the canoe across.
Its about another 2km to Brecon, at first still rural, but now there is some road noise. Pleasant enough though. Soon enough, you pass under the bypass (a bypass bypass perhaps), and the first buildings start to appear shortly afterwards.
A short urban paddle passes several historic buildings, and some sculptures celebrating the industrial archaeology of the canal, until you reach the wharf, which lies just a short distance from Brecon town centre. It also has a handy cafe...so made the perfect spot to stop before returning from whence I came.
The return journey was just as pleasant, it really is a tranquil place to paddle. At the lock, I wandered down to the road bridge for a view of the river below, the only section of the Usk in this area that I haven't paddled. Looks like it will be great when I get round to it, but it does need winter water levels!
The aqueduct was obvious just downstream, a hefty 200 year old bridge that was built to last!
As I paddled camp-wards, despite stiffening knees and ankles, if possible the canal became even more beautiful, one of the nicest I have paddled thanks to the stunning countryside around.
The swans were still line astern, this time on the parade ground.
I was pleased the bridge was raised, I really couldn't be bothered to lift in and out again!
Bridge 152 marked the final hundred metres to camp. What a lovely paddle. Nothing exciting or dramatic, just gentle rural paddling through the beautiful Welsh countryside.
The next day I was heading home...but the forecast was looking too good to go straight back without another paddle....so watch for another blog "soon"....
Thanks to various reasons, I'd booked two weeks off for a trip. In the end, I only used up one for Sweden so, after doing a couple of days work in between, I needed to do something with it. A trip to the Lake District and my parents in Notts filled most of it, but the weather stopped any planned wild hill camping I wanted to do. So where could I go on my way between Notts and Surrey. Wales, of course, its only a few hundred miles extra...
Having made this decision at breakfast time on the Thursday, it was getting close to 5.30pm before I actually pulled up in a layby on a quiet road beneath the escarpment of the main Black Mountain massif, west of Brecon. I squeezed my gear into my 40L winter daysack, strapped my newish tiny tent to the outside, and headed uphill straight into the evening sunshine.
My target was a lonely Llyn, below the ridge, where I hoped to find a fairly sheltered spot to hide from a 20-30mph wind. After trudging up soft slopes that would be tough going in a wetter year, but were very simple now, I arrived at the beautiful lake and found a flat spot sort of sheltered by a mound.
The tent is a Six Moon Designs Lunar Solo and whilst I've used it before, this was the first trip to the hills with it. Weighing only about 700g, its very light, but is only a single skin, pitching with a walking pole or a little bendy carbon pole. Its also remarkably spacious for one, with plenty of space. I spent the short couple of hours before full darkness cooking a quick meal and watching the light fade from the day over the distant Brecon Beacons whilst drinking my one and only can of Brew Dog IPA.
At around this time I realised I'd forgotten my headtorch. No worries, I keep a tiny emergency version in my first aid kit. That would be the canoeing first aid kit that I'd stripped down to a minimum just before leaving the car...the spare torch being in the bit of the bag with the canoe repair kit in it that I removed, of course. OK, so it was going to be a long, dark night!
I had my book on the phone, so could at least read. The wind was moderately strong and, as so often in such places, swirling randomly around. The tent stood up to it with barely any movement of the pole and it would clearly handle much stronger winds with little problem. Except for one thing. The taut flysheet had just one area that resonated perfectly with modest wind speeds, fluttering right next to my right ear. It was actually worse in the lulls between gusts, in the stronger gusts the flapping was more of a normal flap that I'm very much used to, not a "thrum" 6 inches from my head. 04
The earplugs were in the other half of the first aid kit tooj,. It was quite a long night.
I woke from a fairly restless sleep to low clouds at first light, around 6am. I knew that proper rain was due by 8am, so got on with a decent coffee and a bit of brekkie, before dropping camp and heading downhill.
I reached the car at 7.55 after an easy 40 minute walk. The rain was bang on time 5 minutes later, proper rain that I was glad I'd missed. After an hour's doze, I headed for the cafes of Brecon.
Later that day saw me established on a far less wild camp, at the excellent Pencelli Farm site by the banks of the Monmouthshire and Brecon Canal. So from now on, its a paddlin' blog!
That evening I went for a quick hour and a half's paddle to the east towards Talybont. And a very relaxing paddle it was, but the photos weren't up to much as the light was gone, so I seem to have edited them out...
It was now Saturday, and the forecast was pretty good. Only a modest breeze, and mostly sunny spells. I decided a paddle to Brecon was in order. The shady put in is a rough bank down a gravelly path from the immaculate grass of the campsite, about 50m carry at a guess.
Here the canal is wooded, as it is for quite a lot of its length, a lovely peaceful spot. The bridges are particularly pleasing shapes on this navigation, which dates to the very end of the 18th century.
The canal is a great example of a "contour canal", winding its way along the side of the valley, quite high above the River Usk, but way below the summits of the hills above.
There are decent put ins all along the canal, some of them with signed markers. There are, though, a few bridges that are less canoe-friendly when lowered...
The next few miles were a long, meandering loop, a lovely peaceful passage beneath trees or the slopes of the hills.
The swans here seem to be well trained to swim in formation.
Beyond Storehouse Bridge, a marina marks the start of a more open section, where the highest summit of the Brecon Beacons, Pen y Fan, pokes its head over the fields. By now, there was very little breeze reaching me, and the reflections were lovely.
Having gone through a huge long loop, the canal comes closer to the Usk, entering a sloping woodland parallel to the river, but a hundred feet above it or so. From the canal you can't see the river, but I did stop and find an easy way down to it.
Some of the bridges have "stretched", slightly worryingly, as the slope has shifted. They have been thoroughly reinforced now!
The canal crosses the Usk on a fine aqueduct at Brynich. There wasn't much water in the river below!
Immediately after is a lock. Its a slightly awkward portage when alone, as there are two large gates to open, and passers-by kept trying to close them before I could carry the canoe across.
Its about another 2km to Brecon, at first still rural, but now there is some road noise. Pleasant enough though. Soon enough, you pass under the bypass (a bypass bypass perhaps), and the first buildings start to appear shortly afterwards.
A short urban paddle passes several historic buildings, and some sculptures celebrating the industrial archaeology of the canal, until you reach the wharf, which lies just a short distance from Brecon town centre. It also has a handy cafe...so made the perfect spot to stop before returning from whence I came.
The return journey was just as pleasant, it really is a tranquil place to paddle. At the lock, I wandered down to the road bridge for a view of the river below, the only section of the Usk in this area that I haven't paddled. Looks like it will be great when I get round to it, but it does need winter water levels!
The aqueduct was obvious just downstream, a hefty 200 year old bridge that was built to last!
As I paddled camp-wards, despite stiffening knees and ankles, if possible the canal became even more beautiful, one of the nicest I have paddled thanks to the stunning countryside around.
The swans were still line astern, this time on the parade ground.
I was pleased the bridge was raised, I really couldn't be bothered to lift in and out again!
Bridge 152 marked the final hundred metres to camp. What a lovely paddle. Nothing exciting or dramatic, just gentle rural paddling through the beautiful Welsh countryside.
The next day I was heading home...but the forecast was looking too good to go straight back without another paddle....so watch for another blog "soon"....