MAWDDACH TRAIL

 

Barmouth Viaduct - Mawddach Trail

It has been a long time intention to cycle on the path next to the railway line over the Barmouth viaduct - the Mawddach Trail. So when the ‘only essential travel’ restriction was removed as the pandemic abated, an extended trip up the A470 becomes possible. On this journey once, you put the town of Brecon behind you, the road that is billed as a principal ‘thoroughfare’ through Wales, linking Cardiff Castle to Llandudno promenade, is basically a one laned twisty path that limits any speedy progress - particularly if you get caught behind a tractor. Our journey to Dolgellau feels long and tiring in hot weather but the hotel we have booked is more than adequate to meet our wandering needs.

The Mawddach Trail follows the route of an old railway line and is a short section of National Cycle Network Route 8 which in Welsh is known as Lôn Las Cymru. Dolgellau was originally the terminus of a Cambrian Railways branch line from Barmouth Junction where it linked with the route north toward Porthmadoc and south to Aberystwyth on the ‘Aberystwith (sic) and Welsh Coast Railway’. When this amalgamated into the Great Western Railway the line was extended from Dolgellau to Bala and Ruabon providing a route to London and Liverpool. The Dollgellau – Barmouth line was opened in 1865 and services ceased a century latter as a result of Dr. Beeching’s intervention.

As we had not brought our own bikes we would have to rent and so our wandering begins in a cycle shop in Dolgellau. Our hire bikes look more that adequate except, as we might have anticipated, they have no gel saddles which provide a comfort that we have grown used to. Leaving Dolgellau the route at first does not follow the old railway line as we ride along the south of the river, past the football ground. Following the path we come to a footbridge over the river and the sign tells us that it is the route to Barmouth. Oh dear! I forgot to consult the map before we came out and in my mind our route is all along the south of the river. I think we should ignore this bridge and sign and so we cycle on, but then in a manner of yards we come to a road. My memory tells me that we should not be on a road. We try to turn around but the path is now partially blocked by a large woman and her son who have followed us on their bikes. “Is this the way to Barmouth?” I express my uncertainty and as I do so, a man and woman on bikes that look as if they were picked up off a scrap heap ride up. “Barmouth?” he asks. Again I express my uncertainty, telling him I don’t have a map and I thought all the path was south of the river. The large woman and her son look on bemused. I wonder what sort of meeting is evolving with six people of various shapes and sizes on various bikes all standing still on a narrow path pointing in different directions. The scrap bike man reaches into his back pocket and brings out a large new mobile phone, the appearance and obvious technology rather belying the quality of his present mode of transport. A few quick presses on the screen and “Yes, we go over that bridge, follow the path, go onto and over the road and then we cross the river again straight away.” Off go the scrap bikes, (with a distinctive squeak), the large lady and her son turn around and we dutifully follow. “Not well sign-posted that.” I proclaim. “You should have brought a map.” I am told.

Now following the old railway line we travel straight for about a mile and come to Penmaenpool which was a station on the line. I had always thought the name was an anglisation of ‘Penmaenpwll’ but I was wrong because the Welsh name is Llynpenmaen. Llyn indicating a lake with the lake or English pool in fact being a broad slow bend in the river. 

Penmaenpool

The original station position is now the car park and toilet but the signal box is still standing with a signal on duty ready and willing for the trains that no longer come on a track long since dismantled. The buildings, including the pub, stand along where the track would have run and we take our first coffee break to watch cars noisily cross the private wooden toll bridge that spans the river here. The bridge was built in 1878 to replace a ferry which left from the wharf in front of us and over time the station and its railway undoubtedly replaced the river traffic. 

Penmaenpool Bridge

As we sit two men approach the wharf, take their clothes off revealing swimming trunks. They fold their clothes neatly and then walk over the toll bridge without paying – pedestrians are free. On the other side of the river they slowly walk into the water and then swim across the 50 yards of the ‘pool’ to where they left their clothes. As they dry themselves I ask,

“Was it cold?”

“No, lovely once you got in”

“Much of a current?”

“No , it very gentle there.” He thinks for a moment. “In fact I think I’ll go again.” and off he toddles leaving his friend who shakes his head to decline a second swim. With the calmness of the scene it is difficult to imagine how in 1966 a pleasure boat hit the bridge resulting in fifteen people drowning.  

Mawddach Estuary and Barmouth Bridge

We continue on our way and soon in the distance along the estuary we can see our destination, Barmouth Bridge. We are making good progress now as the path being typical of ex-railway lines is relatively straight and has no inclines. At Abergwynant we cross the bridge over the Gwynan, a tributary that rises on Cader Idris to the south. Black cattle are near the water feasting on the rich alluvial grass but they might not have been able to do this as there was a planning application in the 1970s to sift through the alluvial deposits of the estuary to extract the particles of gold washed out by the 19^th century mine workings. Gold was first discovered in the Mawddach valley in 1834 and at one time there were 24 gold mines in the area. A veritable gold rush that soon petered out with about 4 tonnes being extracted in total. Thankfully the industrialisation of the estuarine land was refused planning permission and cows have continued to enjoy their grazing rights.  As we cycle past I wonder what 4 tonnes of gold looks like.

Soon we can see old rotting wooden stakes on the bank which mark the remains of a jetty at Garth-isaf.

Garth-isaf

We are cycling closer to our end point and the trail turns inland around the Fegla Fach headland. This promontory is formed of the rocks of the ‘Ffestiniog Beds’ which are thick hard shales and grits that resisted glacial erosion during the last ice age and hence juts out into the estuary proclaiming its geological durability. The rocks were laid down some 500 million years ago when what is now Wales was much warmer as it lay south of the equator. It was these rocks that bore the gold veins created by mineralising fluids during periods of intense volcanic activity.

We cross a bridge over the Afon Arthog and then negotiate some gates to cross a road. Where the path begins on the other side of the road was Arthog station of which there are now no visible remains. The station like others on the line was closed to passengers on 18 January 1965.There must have been a small siding because a camping coach was placed here during the 50’s and 60’s. These coaches were retired passenger carriages converted to provide holiday accommodation. It must have been like being in a different version of an early caravan. Each coach had two bedrooms sleeping between 6 and 8 people. There was a kitchen, but all plumbing and electricity had been removed so there were no toilets as campers were expected to use the station facilities for their water and toileting needs.  Such small stations don’t have toilets these days!

Barmouth Junction
platform

A short distance after Arthog, the path reaches what was originally Barmouth Junction station. Here our east – west route along the line from Dolgellau met the still functioning line coming from Aberystwyth and travelling north. The two lines converged just outside the station towards Barmouth and the central platforms formed a large triangular shape as the lines separated. There is a current operating station, Morfa Mawddach, which due to the original configuration of lines at first seems to be a distance from the cycle path. A toilet now sits on the site of what would have been the most easterly edge of the old station and the beginnings of the original triangular platform can be made out.
Most of the central area has been levelled and is converted into a car park, so the large area of a busy Barmouth Junction station has morphed into the basic Morfa Mawddach, single platformed and unmanned.

The track now turns north and runs alongside the railway line. Soon we are riding on sand which has blown over from the nearby dunes. For a few hundred yards it is hard going, and then we are on the bridge which for cyclists and walkers is made of wooden planks; planks that have long since lost any close abutment that might have existed. A bumpy ride. 

Barmouth Bridge

As we look at the expanse of the estuary we see a considerable amount of constructing equipment ready to upgrade the bridge. On the Barmouth side we can see up the estuary and towards the hills in the distance showing off the early autumn colours. But on the side we are leaving there is low cloud and a greyness which means that unfortunately we are afforded no views of Cader Idris.  Looking up the valley we can make out its glacial shape left from when the ice flowed into Cardigan Bay.  Much glacial debris formed a large tidal lagoon which is now left as mud flats and then the sea threw up a shingle beach narrowing the mouth of the estuary on the Fairbourne side. 

We ride onto the rusting iron swing bridge and bump along next to its double arched structure. The bridge was constructed in such a way that it could swing through 90º to allow the masted river traffic to pass. This too will be refurbished and will retain its original shape but it will be rigid, non-moving, as there is no river traffic to warrant its mobile necessity. We pass through the redundant toll booth where small fees were collected from those who walked across the bridge. There are no fees now but with the title ‘Troll Booth’ visitors are encourage to donate coins for local charities.

Barmouth

In Barmouth, over sandwich lunch, we notice a preponderance of Brummie accents with several people wearing Baggies and Villa football shirts. We wonder about an ice cream and notice the large lady and her son, bikes propped up against a lamppost, licking enormous cones. We decide against it. Time to return and back the same way. 

Barmouth Bridge and Viaduct

After we bumpily cross the viaduct again, we pass Morfa Mawddach station and hear a recorded announcement to a deserted station.  “The next train is the 1:45 calling at Barmouth, Llanaber, Talybont ......”

On a section close to the estuary’s mud I wonder out loud, “Shall we find somewhere to pan for gold? You never know, we could get lucky.” “No it’s going to rain.”   So we press on, but the rain doesn’t come until we reach Penmaenpool. The lack of gel saddles is having a considerable effect by now and our numbing rears are pleased to arrive in Dolgellau. With bikes safely returned we find a very welcome tea and cake at Parliament House in Bridge St and we pull out our bucket list to cross something off. But panning for gold is still remains!

Autumn Walk
to the usual rhythms 
of water and weather