Mystified by Marin
News Posted: 15 June 2007
Everyday Cycling Goes to Gwydyr
One of the original man made trails in Wales, Marin was a place that I’d never visited before and I’d blindly resolved that the newer and flashier trails at Llandegla and Coed y Brenin would relegate the Marin to the ‘old hat’ or ‘not tricky enough’ ranks. How wrong could a person be? I arrived prepared for a tame old time and left with gilt edged memories of one of the most bewitching rides of my life.
I arrived at Marin trail after completing Coed y Brenin’s Tarw Trail the day before, so I was dialled into rocky North Wales conditions. The weather was warm and overcast and after the hyperbole of the CYB trailhead, the understatement of the Gwydyr Forest car pack was a strangely soothing antidote. No coffee shop or retail therapy here – just a car park, trail map and the enticing slate metalled singletrack disappearing up the hill. For those wanting bike hire and more emenities, Llanrwst and Betws y Coed are a few minutes drive away. However, we can prepared and had fuelled up with flapjacks and drinks on the way, so once bikes were assembled and checked, and helmets donned, we engaged our low gears and spun the cranks up the first engaging singletrack climb.
Above: A pause for breath on one of the climbs
The climb gently intersected the contour lines, edging up the side of the tree lined precipitous drop to our left. The maturity of the trail immediately struck us, the hardpacked dirt and slate blending seamlessly into the environment. Already I was bewitched by the magnitude of the scenery and the incredible topography that Gwydyr Forest is rooted upon. The singletrack climb ended and we emerged onto rocky forest road and the start of a steady gruelling climb which teased us with its multitude of false summits. ‘The top’ would be reached, or so we thought, a corner turned, only to find another stretch of fireroad angling off into the ever more dense evergreen. The day was hot and humid and the cloud cover began to burn off. The length of the climb and the conditions demanded a steady hyptonic pace, slowly lulling us into the epic Marin experience.
We began thinking that the trail map had betrayed us and there was to be no singletrack in sight, when along came Pigs Might Fly – the first section of rocky singletrack descent. Any illusions that the young upstart trails at Llandegla or the newer offerings at CYB would upstage the Marin paled very quickly. Savage slate like dragon’s teeth, drop offs and sandy chutes demanded total concentration and commitment. We arrived at the bottom of the section with scorching hot brakes and the realisation that the trail had physical and technical challenge in store for us in huge amounts.
Above: The singletrack reward for all that hard work
Then came the second uphill assault, again through thick forest. After the delight of the first descent, every pedal stroke uphill was like banking currency that would be withdrawn and gladly frittered away on the next singletrack plummet, which went by the name of ‘Blue’ but left us anything but. Here came the first bite of the dragon’s teeth, spitting one of us over the bars and reminding us that the downs here need much concentration and respect. Luckily, no injuries or mechanicals resulted and we were quickly on our way again, soon to be spat out, awed, bruised at battered onto the relief of the fire road. Then, to our right, the forest opened up to reveal an awe inspiring sight. Stretching before us was a still shimmering lake, and beyond, the hazy triangular massif of Snowdon. More distinct in the middle distance, the jagged and irregular Carnedd and Glyderau ranges. The oppressive, claustrophobic evergreen plantation had masked just how far we’d climbed and our reward stretched before our eyes and injected fresh impetus into our legs for the rest of the ride.
Above: Snowdonia looms across a mountain lake - all in a days work at Marin
Here it occurred to me that an indefinable something separates the Marin Trail from a host of others. It manages to transcend the ‘paint by numbers’ feel of a lot of man made trail centres, whilst still offering that ‘roll up and ride’ experience. Maybe it’s the grandeur of the scenery or the maturity of the trail, which seems to have naturalised with age. Maybe it’s the subtle way the route folds in over itself and creates that effect of being blindfold and spun around – you lose your sense of direction and surrender to the numbered blue arrows. That joy of following a brand new trail and never knowing what’s around the corner. Or maybe it’s something altogether more mystical. The forest is built on old slate mines - abandoned slate works and buildings are everywhere. It looks like a long forgotten battlefield where once a war between forest and man raged, and the forest won.
And so the Marin rolled on into the hot afternoon. Testing climbs followed by juddering rocky drops then, just as things began to seem formulaic, a wonderful tree lined section of gently climbing singletrack away from the country road, across a forest-engulfed stream with a footbridge, flights of rocky steps, bike on the shoulder, then boardwalk and more rolling singletrack over open sandy gorse thicket. Ruined cottages and mine works. Variety and surprise was around every corner.
Above: Ruined building that's lost it's battle with the elements
Then came a strange familiarity – a feeling of retracing old ground – of seeing the same place from a different angle, like a dream. The trail crossed its outward leg, the internal compass reset itself – we were on the home stretch. We then remembered the huge climb at the start that we cursed for nearly an hour. This could mean only one thing – an electrifying switchback descent back to the car park. Rocky root and plain evil in parts – it was the classic ‘leave ‘em wanting more’ ending to a sublime drama of a trail that I’m reliving in my head days later.
Above: Endor with it's stone bridge and hike a bike section
We arrived back at the car park with battered bodies and bikes, dehydrated and dust strewn. I checked the trail map. Was it really 25km or 25 miles? Why had I taken so long to get around to riding Marin Trail, and when could I get around to coming back and doing it all over again?
Quick Facts: Marin Trial is located in the Gwydyr Forest, near Llanwrst in North Wales and at 25km with over 1000m of climbing is a good day out for the average rider. We took our time and spent 4 hours, though in faster moods, some riders will do it in 2.
More information: http://www.mbwales.com/gwydyr_forest
Trail Map: http://www.mbwales.com/pdfs/gwydyr.pdf