In search of King Arthur day 1.

There are times when as an avid explorer and all round adventure type person that you hit upon an idea that truly becomes a journey back in time.

My latest outing finds me adventuring across the Shropshire country side in search of non other than King Arthur himself, that mighty king of old racing around the land fighting great beast, rescuing fair maidens and generally being an all super great guy.

Well the truth is, (spoiler alert) he was never a knight and may have not even been a king, he was never any of those things. The stories we learned as kids and legends of old seem far from the truth that permeates the land.

So who was he, where did he come from and when?

One thing that I have come to learn from my general meanderings through the annuals of history is that these characters are rarely one person, they tend to be a conglomerate of different stories and people from different periods in history and with each new retelling the story teller has added a new detail to make the tale their own.

I had woke at 5am and set off for my 11mile cycle into Birmingham in order to catch my train, this being the first time I had travelled with my bike, the ticket having been bought some weeks earlier in order to book a space, at £9 and with no need to have booked a space (first come basis) it was already a barging.

It was strange waiting around this early in the morning, one that I had not done for some time, I sat around eating my breakfast bun and tea before boarding my one train straight to Chirk.

I had originally booked all the way to Wrexham with the idea of cycling the 15miles to Llangollen and the actual start of my adventure, but having looked at the route whilst on the train, Chirk to Llangollen was shorter, (famous last words)

I arrived at Chirk on time and having navigated myself from the train station, I set about checking out the route forward, taking in the many back roads and little bridleways that dotted this landscape aiming to cut my journey down to save on the old legs. My route took me out past Chirk Castle, skirting the mighty home and grounds and passing by parts of Offa’s Dyke, how ever after an hour and having pushed my bike uphill for the tenth time, I decided that heading to Llangollen was out of the question, I had pushed my bike for half a mile along what was supposed to be a bridleway, it had seen the passing of time and the underuse of people, with the way now overgrown with nettles and grass making the going quite interesting and strenuous.

I knew that once down towards Llangollen I would have to retrace my steps backs wards towards Oswestry and go over the same terrain I had struggled to navigate.

I stopped just outside of Pennant and instead began to head towards Oswestry Hill fort, I was new to cycling and was unaware of what the arrows represented on OS maps some pointing up and some down on the many roads ahead, I was soon to find that these demoted how big the gradient was but the steep descent down into Pontfadog was certainly a nice change to having to push my bike up the never ending steep hills.

I was soon climbing yet again out of Pontfadog, following The Maelor Way and eventually into Gobowen where I stopped for a Bacon Sarnie, the café was an interesting place one that seemed to attract the many and varied locals who offered stern and humorous warnings about heading through Oswestry, the lacalness ran strong here.

From Gobowen it was a short and pleasant ride along quiet roads and eventually hitting my fist point on Arthurs trail. Old Oswestry Hill fort is some 3000 years old, it sits as a mysterious and well preserved throw back to our ancestors and remained in use for around 1000 years.

The hill fort had seen 4 distinct phases of building with large and deep ditches and banks, the Welsh name for the hill fort, Caer Ogyrfan, means City of Gogyrfan. According to legend, Gogyrfan was father to Queen Guinevere and therefore father in law to King Arthur. It is said to have been the birthplace of Queen Ganhumara – Guinevere of Arthurian legend.

There was a great battle that took place here in 642 between 2 great kings of the time, Penda and Oswald. Penda of Mercia defeated Oswald of Northumberland and dismembered his body, placing body parts on stakes near to his death. The place became known as Oswaldstre, or Oswald’s Town, and subsequently Oswestry, another side note King Oswald was said to have been the last decedent of King Arthur.

I’m soon on the move again, heading this time for Whittington Castle, I head out along the A495, threading my way along side the Saturday traffic, I peddle with ease along the road and I am soon coming upon my second Arthurian place, Whittington Castle.

I had been here a number of times before, to visit other notable myths of old, the castle cementing its place in not only the Arthurian legends but also that of Robin Hood.

Arriving I sample the delights they have to offer, it seems only fitting that I do this and admire my surroundings, the café’ sits with the grounds of what would of been a 13th C Norman castle, one of the many castles that made up the fortifications around the Welsh Marches.

Now the story goes that the ‘real grail’ was in fact something called the Marian Chalice, a cup used by Mary Magdalin and found in Christ Tomb after his execution by St Helen and then via many paths ended up at a destination we will later visit. The castle was built and lived in by the Percival family and the more notable Fitz Faulk Warren who are argued are the original grail protectors, the grail being hidden within the chapel here at Whittington. There is so much history here that it deserves a blog all on its own.

From here I set off towards my camp for the first night, one thing I have come to realise about bikepacking is the distance you can cover comfortably in a relatively short amount of time.

I threaded my way along quiet country lanes, gladly avoiding the many cars out on a Saturday drive, I was thankful for the warm weather, seemingly blessed by the travel gods, I was heading for my first camp, a little site at Crosslanes, I arrived well ahead of time and quickly finding the site, I settled into pitching my new tent, the site was quiet and spacious with only a toilet there, the whole field to myself.

The land was quiet even at mid afternoon, I snoozed on and off until it was time to eat, spending the hours reading and lazily absorbing the sun, this as a first introduction to bikepacking couldn't have been any better.