RIDING DRAGONS

There is a deeply soothing feeling to get on the vaguely familiar road, stop at the vaguely familiar station to get half decent coffee on the way to somewhere vaguely familiar or completely new. Passed but never explored Brecon Beacons for couple of days was just that.

I am not sure the weather was ever this bad for us in Wales. In fact anywhere. I can not remember it being so bad as to deter me from checking what's around. Deluge of epic proportions. Especially on Saturday. Since it was impossible to leave the shelter of the roof, we thought we'll drive along the route of tomorrow's ride, but even that became dull after prolonged gazing into the grey

Lauko gale paliekam corsą, dviratį ir paskutinę padalą Vodafone ryšio. Digital detox at shepherds hut and the first try of glamping for us. Majority of b&b in UK would need to step up just to catch a glimpse of convenience and luxury this hut had to offer let alone get nearer: heated floors, neverending hot water, decent appliances, good collection of new dvds, salt, peper and oil should you choose to cook. You just want to cozy up and never leave.

Sunday was nowhere near glorious and organizers of Dragon Ride have profoundly apologised for it. Other than that the machine of the ride worked like perfectly oiled loom: arrive 1h before, park the car in the field of cars' ocean (need to remember smth to be able to find it again), meet the friends in arms, get the bike out, final wee and

'GOOD LUCK GUYS! GOOD LUCK EVERYONE!!!'at full volume speakers were blasting for hours.

Good luck showed it's ass before it showed it's face: showers, hail, blustery wind, only modest apearsnce of sun and did I mention hills. 7h06min of hills. It must have been the spirit of devil, or dragon or may be just a nagging thought that it will be hours in the same awful weather before the sweep bus comes to pick up fallen, pushed those men & women forward. That, of course, comes from non-believer, from somebody who loves soft seat and handle bars higher than the backside. The dragon himself might just have a different version of the events.

O tuo tarpu gretimam miške, is ryto, kol lietus dar nebuvo rėčio pramušęs, apšilinėjau krioklių take ir vis galvojau ačiūdiev vakar per lietų nuo žygio susilaikėm, būtume paskendę palaukių molynuose, nekalbant jau apie kibiras-per-sekundę iš viršaus. Einu sau, žmonės šunis ir draugus vedžioja, yra kam labas rytas sakyt, bet visi erdviai. Populiarus takas Velse, matyt, ir reiškia, kad yra šansų žmogų sutikt (pirmadienį tam pačiam take nuo 8am nesutinkam nieko). Visi kriokliai - šlaito apačioj, o viršuj tik vandens mūša aidi. Daugiausiai garso ties Sgwd yr Eira. 170 laiptų žemyn ir vaizdas akių lygyje. Užsiwaterproofinu ir lendu už krioklio užuolaidos. Išlendu, ta puse, kur į vandenį - šlapia ir suprantu, kad reiks dar atgal eit. Dušas su drabužiais. Antrąkart su Edgaru jau nebelendu. I know better.

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