Why we went. We didn’t. That’s the point of this one. The weather was gorgeous and it would’ve been a shame not to spend it on the bikes, so we went out for cake and let the day decide. This is what motorcycling should be: don’t plan too much, go for a ride, and somehow end up in one of the most beautiful places you’ve ever seen. The day gave us a video. That’s the video you’re getting.
Cake for breakfast. We start a lot of days at Ma Bakers at Prees Heath, and it’s earned a Biker Friendly Approved sticker. It’s a small family-run café with lovely owners, a rail of second-hand kit sold for the Blood Bikes, and a lorry park outside, and it’s an easy base for jumping off into Wales or Shrewsbury. I had cherry pie with custard and whipped cream at nine in the morning. Two things to know before you go: the car park is tiny, and the potholes on the road in are the real hazard. Also, it is not The Raven. The Raven is the big biker café at the A41 and A49 junction, two doors down, and both of them do Thursday bike nights in summer, so if you don’t like people, pick another night.
The rant. Over the pie we heard there’s a plan for a Starbucks, a KFC and a Greggs at the junction. We did a small rant about it in the video and we stand by it: there are three unique independent places there already and nobody needs another cut-and-paste coffee shop. The only thing we can do is ignore the big names and keep buying pie.
Fast Trak. Next stop was Fast Trak Diner at Battlefield in Shrewsbury, which is on the 2026 Bike and Brew passport and which we’d been to once before. It’s on an industrial estate, in the training school’s building, so at first you don’t think café. Inside it’s an American diner, and the women who run it ride; one of them has toured Europe and done Route 66. There were two Z900s outside and one was lowered, which looked mean, and Glyn would like it noted that I said I want an inline four. There was also a tired little Honda 125 that brought my CBT days straight back.
Welshpool, a surprise for someone still discovering Wales. We’d said the next place would be a surprise to you. It was a surprise to us too. We ended up at the Inglenook Café in Welshpool for lunch: chips and a panini, £10.90, and a portion neither of us could finish, which makes it fairly priced in my book. Somewhere between Shrewsbury and here you cross into Wales and the villages go to 20 mph. Take that seriously. There are a lot of cameras and a lot of police and the roads are too good to lose your licence on.
Lake Vyrnwy. I came here once on my 125 and found the road shut. This time it was open, and freshly dressed when we rode it in August 2026, so there were chippings everywhere and the bikes waddled. Waddle, waddle. A whole line of trees along the lake road had come down with their roots out, which looked like a storm had been through. And I saw a dragonfly. I’m not explaining that.
The pass. Very close to the lake is a road I’d wanted to attempt for a while. Its name is Bwlch y Groes, the Pass of the Cross.
A confession. The video went out with Hellfire Pass, the English name, on the thumbnail, and some locals weren’t happy, fairly. Swapping Welsh names for English ones is a sore point, and we’re all for respecting the place and calling it what the people who live there call it. By the time we realised, the video was already out. So on this page it’s Bwlch y Groes and nothing else. I’m still practising saying it. If any Welsh speaker wants to send us a voice note, we’ll take the lesson, and Glyn needs it more than I do.
It’s one of the highest public roads in Wales, up around 545 metres, and whether it’s the highest depends on who you ask. The old bike factories tested machines up here and the International Six Days Trial came through more than once. It’s also a famous cyclists’ climb, which tells you about the gradient.
How hard is it? Is your clutch wrist ready? There are two very different ways up.
- From Lake Vyrnwy, the way we went. About four miles and 300 metres of climbing, so under 5% on average, but that hides it. The steep bit is the first couple of kilometres, up to around 16%, before it eases towards the top. It’s single track with passing places, steep enough that Glyn couldn’t believe they let cars come down it, and gravelly on the inside of the top bends.
- From Dinas Mawddwy, the famous side. About three and a half kilometres at around 11% on average and one in four (25%) at its worst. It’s the side cyclists come to suffer on. We looked down it and took the other road off the top.
For a rider a year in, the Vyrnwy side is doable in first and second if you take it slowly and look well ahead for cars, sheep and gravel. The Dinas Mawddwy side is a different animal: a hill start on a one-in-four is not where you want to discover your clutch control. It’s single track all the way, and the road from Llanuwchllyn is closed to buses and motorhomes, which tells you how tight it gets.
It felt a bit like riding in Thailand, which is where this whole thing started for me. It’s scary because it’s narrow, and lovely as long as you don’t meet a car.
The top. You’ve got to look at this. The valley drops away on both sides, a bird of prey was hovering over something, there’s a stream you can hear but not see, and it’s eerily quiet. Anybody who says there’s nothing to see round here has clearly never been here. Someone who’s not from the UK can’t quite get used to places like this being basically on our doorstep. I absolutely love this part of Britain. Somehow it feels strangely like home.
The bit about humans. At the viewpoint, somebody had had a piss in a bottle and left it there. The problem is the people. Take it home with you. The place will still be here when we’re all long gone, and it deserves better than a crisp packet.
This is why we never get home. It was six o’clock at the top. The ride home is under three hours; with our stopping it’s five. We’d been optimistic about going out for a drink that night. That didn’t happen. We signed off at the top, because that was kind of our destination.
Down to Bala. Don’t go back the way you came. The road down the other side towards Bala Lake, Llyn Tegid, is beautiful, and some of it made the video. We rode home from there.
The GPX. We didn’t record one on the day, so we’ve drawn it from the video and our stops: Ma Bakers, Fast Trak, Welshpool, round the lake and up from the head of Lake Vyrnwy, where the pass road leaves the lake road. It’s one way, to the cross at the top; the run down to Bala isn’t drawn yet.
