THE TRINITY OF PAIN
In the original 100 Greatest Cycling Climbs and its sequel, Another 100 Greatest Cycling Climbs, I decided that two of the climbs were so outstanding, so utterly awesome, that they would be awarded the Spinal Tap-esque rating of 11/10. They were the toughest hills in the books, yes, but a lot more goes into the ratings than just how hard a climb is to ride; it’s an amalgamation of the length, height, toughness, and overall climbing experience. So with two mega-climbs found, I was on the look out for a third, and Wales, with its bounty of little-known and first-class climbs, seemed the perfect place to direct my search. Some came very close; The Colwyld (see here) could have been the third, but I thought it lacked something: the vital X-Factor that the other two had. And so the quest continued, but incidentally just for one more day… It was at this point that I arrived, nerves tingling, at the base of the Stwlan Dam.
I’d had an inkling that this might be the climb I had been searching for; I’d seen pictures and read reports, but of course you still have to ride it to be certain. Way before I reached the summit, I knew it was the one – it oozed class. The harsh gradient on the lower slopes, the stunning scenery, and yes – YES – those eight hairpin bends, combined to deliver an epic stretch of cycling. I was like a child on Christmas morning; I’d found the Holy Grail and my trinity was complete. I had now ridden what were, in my mind, the three greatest climbs on mainland Britain: Bealach-Na-Bà, Great Dun Fell and, finally, the Stwlan Dam.
Bealach-Na-Bà, which translates as ‘the giant pass of the cattle’, was the first of the triptych I conquered; it spans the Applecross Peninsula in the Highlands of Scotland. It’s wild up there, really wild, and not an easy road to reach – a characteristic it shares with its compatriots, unsurprisingly. Over the course of close to 9km, you climb a huge 623m, which equates to an average gradient of just under 7% – those are mountain figures. But unlike most mountain roads, Bealach-Na-Bà features a grueling 500m stretch set at close to 20% – it is pure evil. Rightly so, it is regarded as the biggest and baddest climb in all of the land, a reputation not only earned by its huge length and height, but by its sheer hostility. The sun rarely shines on these parts, so if you visit, be prepared to face the full force of the weather coming in off the North Atlantic.
Next on the list is the one and only Great Dun Fell, a climb of such scale that it dwarfs all others in England. Hidden in the dark centre of the Pennines, the least populated patch of the whole country, this road rises up to a giant golf ball like radar at the top. Unfortunately there are two gates to cross on the way up, but it’s empty of vehicles as a result; it’s just you and the road. And as if it couldn’t get any better, by the time you arrive at the higher slopes, the surface is so perfectly smooth you won’t quite believe it. There really is no other road like this in all of England. You’ll finish in the shadow of the ever so slightly sinister radar at the summit with spectacular views out over the Pennines, on what feels like the top of the world.
And so we come to the final piece of the puzzle, the climb that delivered my eureka moment and gave me my three greatest climbs: The Stwlan Dam. It’s not as high as the first two and not even half as long, but it’s every single bit as stunning. There’s nowhere else in Britain you will find a better collection of bends – nowhere. In fact, there are few places in Europe with corners so spectacular to ride. So here they are: the three greatest cycling climbs in Britain, The Trinity of Pain. Perhaps you can try and ride them all in one day – they’re only 880km apart… I’ll leave that up to you. Enjoy!
