You know you’re in a sorry state when you’re sat by the trailside scoffing a sharing bag of crisps, legs and body completely fried. 

That was one such moment when I bikepacked the Trans-Cambrian Way in Mid-Wales, a 174km route with a smidge over 4,000m elevation earlier this summer. 

The route starts in Knighton on the English-Welsh border, taking you deep into the Cambrian Mountains via Rhayader and the Elan Valley, before finishing in Dovey Junction. 

It’s recommended you spend three days riding this route, but I planned to do it in just over a day and a half, starting on a Friday evening. 

Why? Simple reason – because there are only two trains a day from Dovey Junction on a Sunday, one at 09:54 and another at 14:07 (thankfully since riding the route, it seems as though Transport for Wales have added more trains). 

If you think that sounds torturous, there’s a method to the madness. 

I’d be riding Mother North in Norway three weeks later – a 1,008km gravel ultra-endurance race with a mammoth 17,000m elevation. Completing the Trans-Cambrian Way under these gruelling conditions would make for a ‘perfect’ last training ride. 

Read on to find out if I made it onto that 14:07 train or if I got stranded in deepest, darkest Wales… 

Horse for the course

I rode a Kona Ouroboros, a gravel bike I’d received to review for BikeRadar just nine days prior. 

Since I was considering using this bike for Mother North, I needed to do some kind of extended ride to know it wouldn’t give me any grief – another reason why I chose this route. 

The Ouroboros is rather unconventional in that it straddles the line between gravel and cross-country mountain biking. 

The front end is suspension-corrected for a gravel suspension fork, although this CR/DL model wears a rigid carbon fork with a whopping 29×2.5in / 63.5mm tyre clearance. The rear end is less generous with a 29×2.1in / 53.34mm clearance. 

It also differs from most gravel bikes in that it’s built around larger 180mm disc brake rotors and a chunky 31.6mm seatpost to accommodate a wide range of dropper posts. 

Somewhat paradoxically, the Ouroboros CR/DL comes specced with a 2x SRAM Rival eTap AXS Wide groupset – despite 1x drivetrains on gravel bikes being de rigeur now. 

I also happened to be carrying out a ‘wide gravel tyres’ group test at the time and swapped the bike’s stock 45mm Maxxis Rambler tyres for 50mm Continental Terra Adventures.

Prior to this trip, I’d had mixed feelings on these Contis – I thought the grip was commendable but they felt rather draggy. If there was going to be a fitting course to get a definitive verdict on this tyre, it was this one because Continental claims the Terra Adventure bridges the gap between gravel and cross-country. 

As for luggage, I ran my tried-and-tested Tailfin CargoPack (formerly known as the AeroPack Cargo), as well as the brand’s Long Top Tube Pack and Frame Bag. Since this was just a weekender, I went without a handlebar bag. 

I also wore an Apidura Racing Hydration Vest with a 2L bladder to get me through the remote 88km section after Rhayader where 27ºC+ temperatures were forecast – tropical for Wales! 

Given the route’s remote nature, my plan was to wild camp so I wouldn’t be tied to staying at pre-booked accommodation and arriving by a certain time. I took my trusty Big Agnes Fly Creek HV UL1 bikepacking tent, with a Sea to Summit Ether Light XT Insulated Air Sleeping Mat, as well as their Spark Ultralight sleeping bag and Aeros Premium Pillow. 

Finally, I relied on my trusty Garmin Edge 1040 Solar for navigation.  

First, the worst

After a traffic-ridden Friday evening journey from Bristol, I parked in a free Forestry Commission car park in Kinsley Wood, just outside Knighton – big mistake because it was at the top of a very steep 130m elevation climb which I’d have to tackle on fried legs at the end. 

Starting at 7pm, things get off to a relatively mellow start with an undulating 7km road section before a very rude first off-road climb, which I’d undoubtedly rate as the hardest of the entire route. 

It might have been an issue with the GPX file I was following, but I think I was taken further down a descent than I needed to – I was routed onto a narrow and steep footpath with plenty of gates to negotiate before being taken onto the climb proper. 

Once I was off the footpath, a view of a near-vertical hill emerged. Even walking, my heart was racing going up this – I hoped I wasn’t going to be in for 100 miles of this nonsense…  

The rest of the evening continued through slow-going, sheep-shit-infested fields where the navigation wasn’t always obvious. 

The joys of SRAM

A real lowlight was experiencing a grisly chain drop ten miles into the route. 

I was descending and could see the trail was going to go back up very steeply, so I pre-emptively shifted down to the inner chainring and the SRAM Rival eTap AXS Wide front derailleur chucked the chain in between the chainring and the bottom bracket, gouging the shell. 

When I realised I couldn’t free the chain because the crankset was in the way, I thought I was a goner (you need a long 8mm hex key to undo the crank bolt and rather a lot of force) and have to do the ‘walk of shame’ back to the car. 

I then thought I could try undoing the preload bolt, praying it was wound in enough to shift the chainrings out a little – luckily, that worked! 

I was glad I experienced this issue now because I knew I couldn’t rely on a front derailleur for Norway. 

Mechanical sorted, I trundled on and the light was starting to dim after 9:30, but I was still trapped in the sheep field – I wanted a sheep-free night’s sleep. 

Before long, I passed a house and spotted an empty field shortly after – it was more exposed than I’d like but I could see the next section was going to be road, so this’d be my camp spot. 

27km ridden, and what a wholesome way to spend a Friday night! 

Remote preparations

After a rather restless night’s sleep (I need to be really banjaxed to sleep comfortably in a tent), I got up at 6am. The plan today was to tick off as much of the remaining 130km as I could and camp again close to the end. 

The first 20km were more of the same as yesterday evening – sheep-infested fields with tons of difficult-to-negotiate gates. 

I arrived at Rhayader just after 9am and had a substantial breakfast, before resupplying at the Co-Op and a bakery. 

I could see there was going to be little civilisation from this point until a shop in Staylittle, which Google reported closes at 6pm. 

I was hoping I’d make it there to resupply again, but after knowing how difficult the route was so far, I wasn’t taking any chances and brought enough with me in case I missed it – a bloody good job I did. 

All in, I carried 4.2L of fluid. 

A tough stint in the chair 

The aptly named Puke Hill lived up to its name, starting as a steep road climb that then transitions into a singletrack off-road rockfest. You know it’s tough when you get repeatedly overtaken by a trail runner. 

At the brutal hill’s summit, I could see the mellow cycle path that follows the Elan Valley that I’ve ridden in the past. This troublesome alternative climb had taken a lot of willpower and I burnt into my supplies, inhaling my lunchtime pasty, as well as downing a Coke. 

Yet more technical singletrack followed, which then turned into an undulating trail with endless water crossings and aggressive rock gardens – another fitting test for the Terra Adventures. 

Don’t bother trying to carefully negotiate these river crossings – it’s a guarantee you’re getting wet feet. 

I kept yo-yoing a load of motocross riders who were also negotiating this section while being slowed up by the numerous gates. 

Before the steep tarmac climb up to the Claerwent Reservoir, my water situation started to become severe. I was still ages away from Staylittle, so I started rationing – ironic considering I was next to water! 

The reservoir section is described as one of the route’s more forgiving parts, but it still required concentration – the rough surface means line choice is critical. 

It was also completely exposed to the baking heat, which made my water situation even more desperate. At one point, I immersed myself in the reservoir to try and combat my thirst. 

I was very grateful to a pick-up truck driver who I passed who happened to be carrying a tank of water in the back, who kindly allowed me to refill everything. 

Another bout of desperation

The rest of the afternoon was equally hard-going in the sweltering sun, and I became increasingly run down.  

I necked two gels to try and recombust myself up a prolonged ascent and I had to have a sit down shortly after where I smashed down the aforementioned sharing bag of crisps to get some salt into me. 

More slow-going technical terrain ensued and I was getting desperate for fluids again at the 120km mark on what seemed like an endless fireroad. 

I was very fortunate to spot a campsite where the kind landowner let me use the tap – the fact I guzzled 2,250ml of water in one sitting shows my desperation! 

After a tarmac stint, the sheep fields made a return, and one particularly tall gate that couldn’t be opened proved particularly tricky where I had to hoist my loaded bike over it. 

At the 143km mark, I found an excellent camp spot in another field at the top of the hill. I had 27km left to tick off in the morning – but knowing how slow-going many sections of the route are, I reckoned I’d be on the afternoon train. 

Morning mission

Once I’d awoken and packed everything away, I set off just after 7am through yet more sheep fields and technical singletrack. 

This section culminated in a steep and slippery shale-infested descent, where I had to exercise considerable caution as I picked my way down. 

The route then picked up some narrow, earth-strewn lanes where I was able to make quicker progress – it was at this point I thought I’d try making a beeline for the 09:54 train. 

I had to make a split-decision when I could see I was being taken up another off-road climb – do I stick on the tarmac to the end or finish the route proper? Seeing as the climb didn’t look significant, I thought I’d finish what I started. 

The Dyfi Forest ascent was relatively calm, followed by a fast downhill back to the road. With minutes to spare, I sprinted for Dovey Junction and made it by the skin of my teeth for the train to Shrewsbury – mission accomplished! 

Don’t underestimate this route 

The Trans-Cambrian Way proved a memorable weekend adventure and was just the training ride I needed ahead of my ultra-endurance race. 

Underestimate this route at your peril – of the UK bikepacking routes I’ve completed, it’s up there with the toughest. 

Aside from the chain drop, the gravel bike I rode proved perfectly up to the task, but a mountain bike would be more fun on some of the more technical sections. 

Bear in mind you’ll lose lots of time negotiating obstacles such as rock gardens, deep river crossings and tricky descents – I’d definitely advise this as a summer-only route. 

And I can’t not mention all of the gates, – I counted 88! That works out to almost a gate every mile, but my arms are sadly not Arnold Schwarzenegger-like after bikepacking this route. 

I’m also unsure of the advice to take three days riding this route – you’ll be in a tight spot for food after Rhyader at 50km unless you make a lengthy diversion off the route. 

My advice would be to end your first day at Rhayader so you can have dinner and breakfast there in the morning, and then stock up for the rest of the journey. 

You may also want to consider packing a water filter or purification tablets for the remote sections, but I’ll chalk my water woes down to bad luck in that I picked one of the hottest weekends of the summer to attempt this route. 

Still, I’d thoroughly recommend the Trans-Cambrian Way for the scenic mountain views and varied terrain, but perhaps not the sheep!. However, be warned – it’s not for the faint-hearted.