CHAPTER 39
FROZEN Part 1
The Storm
1982
The winter of 1982 was one of the worst winters I have ever experienced, the winter storm had turned Wales in to a snowy winter wonderland.
The roads on the mountains, and the valleys were impassable because of the snow drifts and the countryside landscape of the towns and villages looked like a scene from a Christmas card.
It snowed solidly for more than 40 hours, it was a fine dry type of snow that stuck to everything, and with the snow came a strong gale force wind that created deep snow drifts.
( Photo 1) . This is what the scene looked like outside my house in Pontycymmer, four days after it stopped snowing.
The snow soon blocked all the roads including the motorways with only a few hours of snow fall.
The snow storm created huge snow drifts, the snow lie around in the streets and roads at an average height of 40 – 60 cm and in some places it exceeded more than 70 cm, for you guys who still think in old money that is over 15 inches and 23 inches, 70 cm = 27 inches.
The drifts were much higher.
The snow was very deep, the excitement of seeing this amount of snow soon disappeared, well except for the kids because they love it, no school, snowmen, snowball fights, what’s not to like.
For the adults its was very different, everyone knew as soon there is a threat of snow in the air, there would be panic buying of all the bread, milk and sugar and anything else that can be stuffed into a supermarket trolley from the supermarkets and local shops.
Everyone knew as soon as there is snow on the ground, deliveries would soon stop, and the shelf’s would be empty of everything, even if the goods were needed or not, just in case.
The snow kept coming down heavy, and it did not take long before the isolated towns and villages were soon cut off from the rest of the world, some of the villages in remote areas were cut off for more the two weeks after the storm had passed.
During this snow storm the schools were closed for two weeks, and the temperature plummeted well below freezing and stayed at this low temperature during the day time hours, this resulted in burst water pipes and power lines coming down, cars were abandoned on the side of the road, and family’s starting to eat cans of food that had been tucked away at the back of the kitchen cupboard that had been forgotten about, there is always room for a tin of spam in the dark recesses of a kitchen cupboard.
The freezing weather created 4-inch icicles in the first few days and everything outside was frozen solid.
The only thing that moved after the storm had passed over were helicopters, even the snow ploughs could not cope with the amount of snow, and they to became stuck on the side of the road.
We were not used to weather conditions like this happening in the U.K. and we were never prepared for weather like it.
Some people were happy, namely Tony Dog who was at the Plough and Harrow when the snow storm came, and Tony and a number of other others were stuck in the pub for the duration.
I believe they run up a high drinks tab over the bar, they kept serving until they had nothing else to serve, they all slept near the medieval inglenook fire place in the bar.
Lucky buggers.
It must have been a great atmosphere watching the snow fall through the small windows, and sitting behind the two-foot thick walls of the ancient pub with the snow coming down outside, a roaring fire warming the room up, and beer literary on tap, let's hope they were not desperate enough to eat the pasties.
The winter was very, very cold, the whole country had been hit by a sever cold wave front that started in early December of 81 and the cold weather continued into January 1982 with the addition of gale force winds and heavy snow.
On January the 8th, a heavy snow storm had covered Britain and changed the landscape over night, all this happened in a matter of hours.
Heavy snow kept falling for more than two days, the damage was done on Friday the 8th and the following day.
Within hours, the M4 motorway came to a complete stand still, and all the vehicles had to be abandoned.
The drivers and passengers of these vehicles made their way on foot to village halls and other civic centers, where they were supplied with warm food, tea and somewhere to sleep, all this was done by local volunteers who struggle through the blizzard to help the stranded motorists, some locals households took strangers into their homes, and put them up until they could move on after the roads were cleared many days later.
The gale force winds created some massive snow drifts, a number of these drifts reached the dizzy heights of 6 meters /19 feet tall.
The coldest temperatures recorded were around -22.7 c / -8.9 f.
Three days after the snow had stopped falling there were long queues outside the shops for milk and bread.
These queues happened in towns that were linked to motorways and open roads like duel carriageways, the villages of the countryside and the valleys were still cut off from the rest of civilization for a little longer, until the snow ploughs could clear the roads for the delivery lorry’s/trucks to have access to the roads again.
My Story
Everyone who experienced this snow storm will have their own story’s to tell.
What follows is my story of this long snowy weekend.
Leaving Wick village
The snow started falling heavily on Friday night.
A bunch of us brave enough to venture out into the cold dark evening were enjoying a couple of pints up in our regular haunt the Plough and Harrow pub in Monknash.
It had been snowing the previous day on the 7th, but nothing to write home about, little did we know what was to come.
Someone in the bar of the plough came into the pool room, where we all were, and said “ hey guys, it’s snowing heavy outside “.
So we all clustered at the window like little children, with wide eyes hoping to catch a glimpse of Santa on Christmas eve.
Looking through the window was not enough to satisfy our sudden interest in the snow, so we all rushed out into the entrance of the pub, and under the cover of the archway entrance, we watched the snow fall with excited eyes, we are all children at heart.
The snow fall was so heavy and thick it shaded the road light outside the plough, the snow was not coming down as you would expect straight down from the sky, but coming in sideways, the snow had arrived and so did the gale force winds.
The snow built up very quickly, so most of us at the pub decided to do the sensible thing and leave early, so we could get home safely.
Not everyone at the plough left when we did, I remember Tony Dog, stayed in the bar with some of the regulars to have a few more pints.
I was staying down my girlfriends house in Wick, so it was just a short trip of a mile or so for me to get out of the weather.
This cold weather front was happening all over the U.K. everyone was affected by it, and when the snow came thicker, I was stuck down in Wick village at Gaenor’s my girlfriends house for the duration of the snow storm.
On the first day of the snow I was supposed to head off back home, but the weather was far too bad with the gale force winds blowing the snow around, it was too dangerous to leave Wick, there is a lot of countryside in-between Wick and Bridgend and if you run off the road, you may not have been found again until the thaw.
the only vehicles on the road were people making a desperate effort to get home while they still could.
I listened to the weather reports on the radio, BBC radio one was broadcasting regular updates of the weather conditions, I was hoping to hear about a break in the weather, but nothing came, not until the third day, this is when the snow stopped.
I went outside and was confronted by a snowy landscape that would not have looked out of place in countries like Canada or Alaska, my Honda CB 550 was nowhere in sight, it was there, buried beneath its own personnel snowdrift, if I had not known that I had parked the bike between two cars, one being a Reliant Robin ( not sure if that counts as a car ), I would have had no idea the bike was there.
This was around 08:00 in the morning, I wanted to start off early as possible, if I was going anywhere, it took me over an hour digging the bike out, I finally cleared all the snow around it and on it.
As I was removing the snow off the tank and seat, the snow was freezing as I looked at it.
I thought this is not good.
( Photo 2 ) . This photo was taken up the valleys, with a Welsh mountain sheep supervising the snow clearance, this photo gives you an idea of the conditions I had to battle against on my way home.
To be honest, because I was busy humping all the snow from around the bike, I did not notice how cold it was, at one point I went back in the house just to have a mug of tea to warm my hands up, and because I stopped for that short amount of time, I started to feel how cold it really was outside.
Once I had cleared all the snow off the bike, I stated she up, I was surprised how well she started, it fired up with little effort.
All my bikes had traditional welsh girls names, this Honda was called Angharad.
I was very surprised because of all the wet weather problems I have had with this Honda, it never got used to the wet Welsh weather, but this day she fired up, and with a couple of twists of the throttle, and she ticked over without missing a beat.
I let it tick over for a while, using the heat from the engine to melt the remaining snow and ice, some of the snow was so frozen solid I found it difficult to remove by hand, a lot of snow had accumulated in the recesses of the engine.
I left the bike tick over, and walked to the main road, the bike would be safe with the engine running, only idiots would ride around in this weather.
I made my way to the main Saint Brides / LLantwit Major road.
I looked up into the grey sky, there was a complete blanket of grey cloud, it looked like it could start snowing at anytime.
I could just make out the round dulled circle of the sun hiding behind the thick grey clouds.
The snow laden clouds had filtered the sunlight to a point where anyone could look directly at the sun without sunglasses, it was just a dull round disc in the sky.
It was not the brightness of the sun that would be a problem today, but the possibility of snow blindness, it was quite difficult looking at the white landscape without squinting your eyes.
I stood on what I believed to be where the pavement was, it was hard to tell as there was so much snow on the ground the pavement had totally disappeared beneath a deep carpet of thick snow.
There was very little wind compared to what we had experienced over previous two days.
I scanned the road in both directions, nothing had driven on the road, I looked towards the road that would take me to Bridgend, the gale force winds had pushed a large amount of the snow into the hedges and buried them in snow, this was to my advantage, the wind had helped to clear the road a little, the road surface was still buried beneath 2 – 3 feet of snow, but from what I could see it was relatively flat.
Well flattish.
The low temperature had made the snow solid enough to ride on, I would create my own Cottingham rut in the snow furrows, ( old Bridgend biker joke ), but trying to look on the positive side, the snow furrows may help stop my rear wheel from stepping out, and throwing me into a snow drift.
The STAR pub was directly across from where I was standing, I could see multi-able mounds of snow in the pub car park, under the snow mounds were the cars of customers that had gone to the pub on Friday night, and had just left the cars or left it too late to leave, maybe they were still in the pub, I could see that the lights were on inside.
There was a stillness in the air.
A quiet calm had settled over the village.
There was no vehicle noise of any kind, I was hoping there would be a farm tractor roaming about somewhere creating wide gaps in the snow that I could ride on, there was no noise of any kind anywhere, the deep snow had dampened the sound of the world.
The only noise that I could hear was when I moved, the snow crunched below my feet as I struggled through the deep drifts.
The lack of sound was quite eerie in this cold white world.
I heard a noise overhead.
a flock of around five birds flew over my head, I watched them disappear over the fields to the south.
I have often wondered how uncomfortable the birds must be in cold weather with their exposed legs and feet, you would have thought mother nature would have supplied them with some form of feathery socks to keep their legs warm in the cold weather.
( Photo 3 ) . My Honda 550 F1, that I rode home in the snow, I just noticed where I had fitted my air-horns . :)
So the road was still packed with snow, there must have been a snow plough at some point, but if had passed this way there was no sign of it now, the heavy snow and winds had re-filled the spaces that it had cleared, there was no evidence of any recent traffic, after inspecting the road surface, which I did by walking along a number of the snow furrows to check the firmness of the road, it looked flat and hard enough to ride on, but there were still some mini snow drifts dotted about that I would need to find a way around, the only thing that was going to move on this road was me, oddly there was no activity anywhere, no-one was outside except me.
I decided to take the risk.
I walked back to the bike which was still ticking over, it had warmed up nicely and the heat had removed all the snow off the engine, but I noticed that the ice had reformed on the seat after I had cleared all the snow and ice off the surface, I pressed down on the seat it did not budge, it was as solid as a rock.
I had only been outside checking the road for around 15 minutes, and I was feeling the cold biting into my bones.
I sat on the frozen seat, just to test the brakes and to make sure all the cables were free from ice.
I put the bike into first gear, and with a clunk the gearbox engaged.
The clutch felt ok, and then I held the front brake in and tried to pull off, the brake held but the bike slid forward with a locked wheel, there was ice below the snow surface.
I did the same thing with the rear brake, the brake held and did not move, I was happy that the bike was as it should be, and everything was working.
The bike was fine, it was now down to my riding ability to get me home, I was confidant the Honda would it's job, all I had to do was make the right decisions on the road, and not fall off on the way home.
I wanted to go home, I had been in the same clothes for three days, and to be honest Gaenor’s mother gave me the impression it was time for me to make my way home, she never said anything negative, but it was easy to tell that my time was up being her guest, and that it was time for me to go, if she had said something to the likes of, stay we love having you here, I would have stopped longer, but I felt it was time I had to move on, I felt like an unwanted guest at a wedding.
Again, I listened to the radio reports with eagerness, the weather report stated that some traffic was moving in and around places like Cardiff city, but the valleys and smaller towns and villages in the countryside were still cut off, there was no snow forecasted for the next 24 hours.
So based just on the radio weather report, I decided to take a chance and make the journey of 17 miles back home to Pontycymmer.
17 miles does not seem a very great distance to travel, but it has to be one of the most difficult and hardiest journeys I have ever had to make.
The time was around 11:00 and I knew it would start to get dark at 16:30 ( 4:30 pm ) and there was quite a lot of uninhabited countryside between myself and the valley.
I would need to get home before it became to dark or I would be in trouble, it was cold enough now around at - 9c and I knew the temperature would drop dramatically as darkness fell.
I went back into the house had another mug of tea to warm myself up again before I left.
I told Gaenor’s mother and father I would be off soon, I put all my bike gear on, my lined Bellstaff wax cotton leggings, a pair of thick white fluffy Fisher-mans socks that we all wore during the winter months, luckily I had my high buckled motocross boots which would give me a good grip on the snow if I needed to walk anywhere, I also had a Darmart thermal t-shirt on, and over that I had a thick red checked shirt with an x-army green jumper that I had bought on City road in Cardiff from an army surplus shop on of one of the regular trips we made into Cardiff.
I wrapped my red and white Welsh rugby scarf tightly around my neck, and then over my face and pulled it up to just below my eyes and tucked the tails of the scarf deep down inside my leather jack, hoping it would help to keep me warm.
In the winter months, I always draped a small green hand towel over my shoulders and wrapped the ends over my chest, I made sure that it covered my neck above the collar, I did this before I put my leather jacket and scarf on, it always kept the wind from blowing down my neck, the hand towel always did the job and kept me warm, I had a pair of thin inner thermal gloves that are worn under the normal leather gloves, which was supposed to give some extra protection from the cold, when I had finished dressing for my winter trip, I said my goodbyes and left Gaenor and her family sitting by the warm Agra fire range complaining how cold it was outside.
The Ride Home
It had gone 12:00 noon, clearing the snow had taken me a lot longer to get ready to leave then I had thought.
But I was ready to go now.
The guy on the radio said it was presently -9 c and was going to get a lot colder as the day rolled on.
At last I was ready to leave, I put my full weight on the seat with both hands, it didn’t move an inch, I sat on the rock hard frozen seat, it did not budge, it was literary like sitting on a cold hard block of ice.
I was all geared up for winter, and ready to ride off into the snow covered landscape, So I pulled off hoping for the best.
Leaving the bike in first gear, and keeping both feet on the ground I moved forward, initially I had to negotiate a number of deep snow furrows before I had reached the main road that I would need use to head to Bridgend.
My rear wheel was spinning and sliding out in all directions, it was an effort just to get to the main road, which was only a few hundred yards from the house.
I guessed by my slow progress so far that it would take me a lot longer to cover the 17 odd miles in these conditions and believe me that guess was grossly underestimated.
The road conditions were much worse than the news guy on the radio had stated, what his interpretation of “ some roads are now passable “ was I have no idea, I think he may have been thinking about using a Siberian dog sled, certainly not normal vehicles, not even tractors or snow ploughs were out on the roads.
I made it to the main road without falling off, and pointed the bike in the general direction of Bridgend town.
The road ahead of me was mostly narrow country lanes with no pavements and only hedges, and an occasional field gate, there were a few passing places which were now all buried under snow, the road was twisty with only a few gradients here and there, nothing steep enough to worry about, I would not hit any real steep hills until I got a lot closer to the valley, there were only two hills I needed to be concerned about on this part of the journey, and they would be the steep twisty rise just after the Pant bend, the one that runs into the trees and Litchard hill a mile or so outside Bridgend, otherwise the roads were relatively flattish.
So off I went, very slowly at first with both feet down on the packed snow, I was making good progress, and at one point I clicked the bike up into 2nd gear, which lasted all of 40 meters or so, I dropped the bike back down into 1st gear and slowed a little, the bike was handling like a speedway bike, and was trying to get me to ride sideways, riding like this was going to get me ending upside down in a snow covered hedge.
( Photo 4 ) . A typical country lane, I had to ride over.
I travelled about a mile or so from the village, and had to stop in the middle of the lane, I had only been out for less then an hour and my hands were so numb I could not feel them anymore, so I kept the bike ticking over, clicked it into neutral and took my gloves off, and placed them under the tank on top of the engine to warm them up, I did the same with my hands, I lent forward over the tank and wrapped my hands around the tank and held them close to engine, trying to get some life back into them, I thought to myself “ this is not good “, I had only just started my journey home, and within a mile I was feeling the cold and had not made any great distance into the direction I had to go, but being me I was not going to let a bit of snow and freezing weather stop me from getting home even if it killed me, I was determined to get home one way or another, even if it was in a box.
My hands were not the only problem, the cold was starting to bite at my toes and I had started to shiver, it was still daylight and the temperature was - 9 c, I was very aware I needed to get as many miles covered in daylight and hopefully get home before dark.
On a normal day the amount of time I had been out on the bike I would have been home by now, I would have been home well within an hour, but I was still only a mile or so from Wick and it had taken me longer then an hour already, I started to have my doubts even then, that this ride home was going to be an issue, but I thought I'm on my way now, I'm not going back to Wick and in a way I was enjoying the snowy landscape and the solitude, even if I was slowly freezing to death.
The country road I was on had only been cleared of enough snow to allow one average sized car to use, all the snow had been pushed to one side into the hedge rows.
I could not see the actual hedges anymore as the snow was so piled high up over them that they had all but disappeared from sight, all these country roads in-between the villages had no pavements and no street lighting, there were no houses anywhere near the roads.
I was in a snowy wilderness.
While I sat there warming my hands up, the only sound I could here was my bike tricking over, other than the sound of the engine there was total silence, which I found some pleasure in, the modern world has sound everywhere, to use a pun, I was quite chilled sitting there, I found it quite relaxing.
I looked around on the road and realised the snow I had been riding on was at lest four feet deep or more, I was basically level with the hedges which were themselves buried beneath the snow, the snow was so solidly pack down it had frozen hard, the road surface was more than four feet below my tires.
My hands had warmed up a little, enough for me to feel my fingers once more, so off I went, same procedure, feet down and in first gear.
I eventually came to a slight downward gradient, more of a slope then a hill really, it only ran down for a short distance, and at the bottom turned into a sharp right hand bend and then climbed back up an even slighter slope.
( Photo 5 ) . This was the same spot that I first stopped to warm my hands up, Imagine this landscape white with snow, and the hedges completely covered with snow drifts, this is the road approaching the spot where Mikes mini car, crashed just outside Saint Brides Major, looking towards Bridgend, if you look far into the distance on the horizon, you can see the mountains I was heading for.
A little further up from this slope, was the bend that Joss Batey crashed Fat Mike’s mini with a surfer guy, ( forgotten his name ) also in the car with Mike was one girl or maybe two girls, not sure how many were in the car, but it was full of people.
This car accident happened during the summer months not sure what year.
I remember we all passed the mini at different times as we were heading up to the plough, there was a note on the car’s windscreen, telling all who stopped to check on the mini that all the passengers were ok, and walked away with only a few bumps and bruises.
As I have said before, there were no mobile phones in those days, word of mouth and paper notes like this left by Mike were the only way of letting people know about stuff that happened.
This bend was always a bit of a challenge, I always tried to get a high speed around it, I did manage to achieve 100 mph around it which nearly killed me, it is a tight bend that twists as you come out of it, and if your not in the right line as you leave the bend you would end up in a field with or without your bike, and if you did it at speed you may not get up again.
When I did 100 mph around it, I had to plan my line well in advance, I had ridden around it at 90 mph plus, a few times, but I wanted the magic 100 mph.
So on this day the weather conditions were perfect, a dry day, no wind and no traffic, so as I left Saint Bridges Major I accelerated the Honda 550 hard, and then hogged the right-hand side of the road almost into the hedge to the point that the branches were whipping me as I rode past.
I stayed on the wrong side of the road for as long as I could, this bend is a blind one, and there is no way you can see anything coming around the bend until its to late, so I left it to the last second, and then flicked the bike over at the apex of the bend and crossed back over onto the correct side of the road, with the branches slapping my helmet as I banked over into the hedge, as I came out of the bend I throttle off immediately, and had to fight the bike to change lines so I could avoid disappearing into the hedge.
I only just managed it.
I was happy with hitting the Magic ton around the bend, and didn’t need to try ever again after that day.
The bend is very deceiving, it does not look to bad until you try taking it at speed, I was definitely not going to try it again at same speed, I only just managed to control the bike coming out of the bend, so trying it again would have been pushing my luck.
How the riders at the TT Races on the Isle of Man do this kind of riding for miles, I will never know, one bend was enough for me.
Anyway back to the snow day.
It was only a slight slope, but I needed to be cautious, I knew I would have had no control over the bike if I stated to slide.
I basically slid down the hill with both feet on the snow, and leaving the bike in first gear with the throttle shut, I used my front brake to control the decent, most of the time the front wheel was locked up, and I just slid along, it did help to point the bike in the direction I wanted to go in.
It was just as well I had the road to myself as I needed it, I was all over the lane, I managed to get to the bend at the bottom of the slope without falling off.
It would have been no big deal even if I had come off, I would have ended up in a soft bed of snow, and because my feet were already on the ground I would have basically stepped off the bike rather than fallen off it, but like I say it didn’t happen, luck was on my side, so far.
I made my way up the slope on the other side of the bend without changing gear, and keeping the throttle steady, which helped to stop me sliding around too much, once the road leveled off, I headed down another hill into Saint Brides village.
As I passed Slade farm on my left side, I could see there had been some kind of activity on the road, the farm was directly facing the road, so the gateway and entrance of the farm lead out onto the road, and from the look of the deep furrows laid out in the snow, they were made by farm tractors.
The snow was still packed solid, I still did not see any other vehicles on the road.
I rode up onto the hill that overlooks Saint Brides and stopped once again to warm my hands up, I had stopped three times to get this far, and I was getting colder by the second.
There were still no other traffic moving on the snow covered roads, except of course for one idiot trying to get home on a motorbike.
I made my way slowly down the long slope of a hill into the village.
On the outskirts of the village, itself I spotted some people by the village pond trying to break the ice, and throwing bread at the ducks, the ducks were slipping in all direction trying their best to grab a piece of bread before any of his/her feathery friends, it was quite amusing watching them slid around on the ice.
These bread throwing people were the first people I had seen since leaving wick, I slowly past the Farmers arms pub which is opposite the village pond, there were about three people trying to clear the snow from the entrance to the pub, they were concentrating on clearing a small path to the front door, so they could still allow customers to get to the bar, they seemed to get their priorities right, as they say life goes on.
I made my way into the village itself, I passed a couple out for a walk, they were all wrapped up like mummies with thick jackets and gloves thick enough to box with, they had woolly bobbled hats on their heads and a scarf wrapped around their faces, all I could see were their eyes, they stared at me as I slowly rode past them they did not say a thing just watch me in puzzled amusement, they watched me in silence, most likely think “ what's that idiot doing riding motorbike in weather like this “ they were taking their dog for a walk, their dog didn’t look very happy, the snow was freezing and matting on his fur, I think he would have been happier sitting in front of a fire, I had the same feeling.
( Photo 6 ) . A typical scene in the countryside taken around 3 – 4 days after the storm.
Just has I was on the outskirts of the village, and about to leave the village behind me, there was an old man walking his dog, I was riding slow enough for him to speak to me.
He said “ I don’t think you will get past Hobbs Quarry riding your bike, a Land Rover tried earlier, and failed and had to turn back”, I stopped the bike and took my gloves off once again, and warmed my hands on the engine, I pulled my scarf down to speak to the man, and flecks of ice fell of the scarf.
He said “ you look cold ”.
I answered “ yeah I am, I’m bloody freezing “.
He said “ I only live up by there “ he pointed to the older houses above the road “ you can come up to my house and warm up if you like, my wife will make us some tea and you can have some Cawl “ ( Welsh Broth ) she just made it this morning”.
I said “ thank you , but if I stop now, I will never get going again, but I do appreciate the offer”.
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The ingredients in Welsh cawl
Cawl ([kaʊ̯l]) is a Welsh dish. In modern Welsh the word is used for any soup or broth; in English it refers to a traditional Welsh soup, usually called cawl Cymreig in Welsh. Historically, ingredients tended to vary, but the most common recipes are with lamb or beef with leeks, potatoes, Swedes, carrots and other seasonal vegetables. Cawl is recognised as a national dish of Wales.
Ingredients 1 tablespoon lard or bacon fat 2 large onions (thickly sliced) 1 medium Swede (peeled and cut into 1 inch/2.5-cm cubes) 4 large carrots (peeled and thickly sliced) 4 leeks (cleaned of all sandy grit and sliced) 1 pound/450 g beef brisket 1 pound/450 g smoked bacon (the whole piece cut into 1-inch/2.5-cm cubes) 1 bay leaf
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“ How far do you have to go “ he said, with a little concern in his voice.
I replied“ I have to get to Pontycymmer “.
He said “ that’s up the valleys passed Bridgend, I can't see you getting to Bridgend let alone to the Garw valley”.
I said “ I have to try “ still warming my hands on the engine.
He said “ well if you change your mind, I live in that house there “, he pointed to his house “ you are welcome to come back any time if you get stuck “.
I said “ thank you, but I'd better get going, I’m trying to get home before dark”.
He turned to head back to his house, “ I’d better get the dog back, he’s too old for this weather, but like I said, if your stuck just knock the door, you will be welcome, I don’t want to read about you in paper when this is all over, and good luck “.
I replied “ thank you “ and nodded to him and I rode off once again into the white.
So as I rode down past Hobbs Quarry, and came across a car down in the ditch on the left side of the road, I stopped the bike, and flicked out the side stand and placed one of my gloves under the stand to stop the bike sinking in the snow, I walked over to the car, it was facing towards the mountain side, and had obviously run off the road, the car was completely covered in snow with no evidence of footprints around it.
it had been there for a while, as the snow was plied up and over the roof, so I cautiously approached the vehicle, not knowing if I would find anything nasty inside.
I scrapped off the frozen snow on one of the side windows, and thank god there was nothing inside, if anyone had stayed in the car over night they would have frozen to death, the car must have run off the road during the snow storm, and the occupants must have left the same time that the accident happened, and headed into the village, because no-one except myself had been near the car since, there were no footprints to be seen, it must have been abandoned at the beginning of the snow drift three days ago.
( Photo 7 ) . This was not the abandoned car that I came across near Hobbs quarry, but this was very much like what I come across, except for the fact that the car was completely buried under a snow drift, with very little of the car showing.
I sat back on the bike again, and took the opportunity to warm my hands up once more.
Time had moved on, and it was getting colder, daylight was beginning to fade, and the quality of the light was changing, it had taken me hours to get this far, the sun was low in the sky, and I knew it would be dark soon.
I had my woolen scarf wrapped around my face, and was wearing a full face helmet, It had become so cold that my breath was turning to ice on my scarf as I breathed out, the ice was building up on the scarf mainly on the outside, my eyes were starting to ache a little from the constant bright white world I had been riding in, if I had any sunglasses I would have worn them, it may have looked a little strange, but I think it would have sorted out the glare coming off the snow.
I had only come part of the way on my journey, and I felt that I was quietly freezing to death.
I have never felt so cold, even thou I was warming my hands up at regular intervals when I stopped, they were still stiff with cold, my hands had gotten to the point where my fingers were hurting and had become stiff from the cold, and I was finding it difficult in feeling the brake and clutch levers.
The ride home had turned into a survival quest, just staying alive long enough to get home was going to be an achievement.
The thin pair of inner thermal gloves I had worn under the gloves had been tested on this cold ride, the idea of these gloves was that they are made of a modern thermal material, and would add an extra layer creating a gap under the leather gloves, where the body heat would be trapped and would help to keep your hands warm without impeding movement.
Did they work .
Did they bollocks, my hand’s felt as if I had not been wearing any gloves at all.
THE THREE PHOTOS THAT FOLLOW WERE TAKEN AROUND FIVE DAYS AFTER THE SNOW STORM.
Photo’s supplied by Collin Prosser.
( Photo 8 ) . This photo was taken five days after the snow fall when the local council started to clear the roads, just outside Saint Bride’s village.
( Photo 9 ) . This photo was taken Between and the village of Wick and the village of Broughton.
( Photo 10 ) . The photo was taken Between St Brides and Wick village, the black stuff on the road is the rock salt the council used to try and melt the ice.
I carried on with my journey, I practically walked the bike around Pant Bend, for some reason the bend had turned into one massive snow drift, the time it took me to do this simple maneuver of going around a bend must have been the record for the slowest motorcycle ever to go around this tight air-pin of a bend, and as I approached the steep twisty bend that leads up into the wooded area next to the quarry I didn't stop, and just kept the bike moving forward at a reasonable pace, and just headed straight up the little hill with a little more power than I used on the flatter parts of the road.
The back end skipped out all over the place, surprisingly I managed to climb the slope very quickly, and then entered the tree covered area, there was snow here, but no drifts, the overhead tree cover had protected the road, I was in a tree covered tunnel that mother nature had created.
After a short distance I went down the steep hill on the other side of natures tunnel, and slowly made my way up to the railway bridge just outside Ewenny.
I very slowly made my way into the village. and I could see the council had attempted to use grit on the road when the snow was still falling after the snow ploughs had tried to keep the roads clear, all it succeeded in doing was to freeze on the surface of the road, and the grit was buried beneath the heavy snow fall and just turned the snow a dirty brown colour.
( see photo 10 ).
There were no snow ploughs or gritters out on the road now, only me, I made my way up the hill passed Ewenny potteries, the snow was much heavier here, the road leveled off, and the snow drifts became deeper, the bike was sliding everywhere, I lost control a few times and ended up with the front wheel sticking into a deep drift, when this happened, I needed to get off the bike and physically reverse the bike out and point it in the direction I wanted to go in, and then pull off again and repeat the process until I was near to Ewenny roundabout.
I rode down Ewenny road avoiding many of the drifts, and very slowly made my way around Ewenny roundabout, I had no end of trouble getting past Heol Gam school, my bike was sliding everywhere, I was losing control more often, I did try and follow the snow ruts but sometimes I crossed over on to another one, which was not planned, riding like this was tiring me out, I was not riding the bike anymore, I was fighting it, I rode in this fashion until I arrived outside Pans bike shop. ( Lesley Griffith motors )
I stopped the bike right outside the pavement area that Hayden normal put the bikes on, the pavement area outside the shop was used to display what he had to offer to any potential passing customers, I took my gloves off once again, but this time, I switched the engine off, I had been riding all the way from wick village in first gear, and riding my clutch to keep control of the bike as I slid my way across the roads.
I needed to let the clutch and the engine cool down before I burnt it out, so I sat there and looked around, there had been more activity here, but still no people and no vehicles, it looked like everyone had given up and stayed in doors, I could see some lights were on in a few of the houses that lined the street.
The bike shop was completely in darkness with all the bikes crammed together in the showroom looking as if they were trying to keep warm, I bet they were warmer then me, my whole body was shaking with the cold.
The lights were on in the Five Bells pub across the road from the bike shop, they had the curtains pulled across windows, which suited me really, because if I had seen all the people inside enjoying a pint by the fire I think it would have broken my resolve in my attempt in getting home and had gone into the pub and just got pissed, I could see there was a lot of snow cleared away from one of the pubs entrances, undoubtedly the pub was very busy inside.
The sun had gone down and darkness had descended on the town, my plan on getting home before dark had failed miserably, I was still ten miles from home with the hardest part of the journey still to come, Bridgend was lit up by yellow streetlights casting shadows across the snow drifts, I did not know what the temperature was now but it must have been well below -9, it had taken me hours just to get this far, and I was well aware that I still had the hardest part of the journey to come, my plan on getting home before dark was a complete failure and this too was tell on my mindset, I was becoming very negative about the attempted journey, I was not ready to give up just yet, but I was beginning to falter.
The valleys always had heavier snow fall then the Bridgend area and the vale of Glamorgan, and I had a lot of very steep hills to climb with some remote roads to cover after I left the village of Brynmenyn, that’s is if I make it to Brynmenyn.
I sat there hunched over my tank with my teeth chattering and thought the scene I was witnessing was what it must look like being inside a snow glob.
I was shivering with cold, my toes and fingers were frozen, in fact they were so numb I could not feel them anymore, they did not hurt with the cold, my fingers and toes had past that stage, they were so cold, they felt they did not belong to me anymore. the front of my scarf was completely frozen over and was one block of ice.
But, I told myself that I was not ready to give up just yet.
I had come too far to surrender to the elements.
I was focused on getting home, and at this point in my journey the snow and the extreme cold were winning, but I was not going to pack it all in just yet, even if I had to walk home, I was going to get there somehow.
So I just sat hunched over the bike, feeling sorry for myself, slowly freezing to death.
( Photo 11 ) . Another photo of the snow drifts after the snow plough’s had cleared the roads for traffic.
To be continued in part 2 .............