The tartan-covered shopping trolley. Fleece-lined slippers. Jazz music. Electric bicycles have long been something that my ego won’t succumb to just yet, a purchase like those listed above that I’ll save for retirement, even if I’ll secretly enjoy the benefits right now. My stubborn resolve, like my hairline, however, is receding by the day.
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Having torn a knee ligament in 2024 (refereeing an under-9’s football match), my fitness has steadily declined and I now wheeze climbing the office stairs. Yet when the charity Cycling UK launched the Marcher Castles Way in Shropshire last October, one of my favourite UK counties, I nudged aside my resistance to assisted cycling and left the door ajar. It was time to become a member of the 21st century’s e-generation.
What is the Marcher Castles Way?
Marcher is the medieval word for borderland and the bikepacking route highlights the history of the strongholds that cyclists will encounter on the 180-mile loop. After starting in the county town of Shrewsbury, the multi-terrain trail on roads, bridleways and former railway tracks crosses the English and Welsh border eight times. Along the way it visits the Roman remains at Wroxeter, the World Heritage Site of Ironbridge, the foodie haven of Ludlow and crosses Offa’s Dyke, the earthwork from circa 784CE that largely runs along the border.
While shorter than Cycling UK’s King Alfred’s Way, which became a huge hit after its launch in 2019 and boasts Winchester, Stonehenge, Avebury and more on its 217-mile route, the Marcher Castles Way is a hillier devil, with a thigh-busting 5,000m of elevation gain over the loop. Which is why, on a snow-dusted Friday, I’m attempting the 60-mile ‘taster’ route, which cuts the climbing down to 1,391m, atop an ebike from British brand Pashley.
'Little Switzerland'
Given the British history on the Marcher route, both ancient and industrial, Pashley is an apt choice for the ride. Founded in 1926, it is one of the few UK brands that make its bikes in the nation (Brompton being another prominent example). At first glance, it’s difficult to discern that the Pashley Pathfinder XE is an ebike. The steel frame follows the silhouette and shape of a hybrid bike, with the motor neatly built into the hub of the rear wheel. Yet this is very different to the motorised, often adapted cycling machines favoured by food-delivery drivers. Instead, the Pashley and other legitimate ebikes from established brands, such as Boardman, Specialized and Trek, gives a controlled boost from its 250W motor that, to stay within the legal limits, cuts out when the bike’s speed goes over 15.5mph.
With our continental hotel breakfast still sitting worryingly high on the stomach, we’re thrust straight into the Marcher action after our starting point in Church Stretton on the steep dirt track of Cwms Road. The spa town was nicknamed ‘Little Switzerland’ by Victorians due to its tranquillity, valleys and imposing peaks, a comparison that feels pertinent today due to the recent snowfall. We’re soon flanked by the Long Mynd hills and the 459m-high Caer Caradoc.
Cycling UK suggests the Marchers course is best suited for a mountain or gravel bike and I soon appreciate the Pashley’s beefy tyres and electrical assistance for nudging me to the crest. On his non-electric bike, my brother-in-law Dave huffs and puffs up the 17% gradient of this taster route’s major climb. With the trail crunching under our tyres, we skirt the suitably named Wilderness peak and return to the country lanes of the Shropshire Hills National Landscape.
Similar to King Alfred’s Way, the Marchers isn’t formally waymarked, but it does incorporate signposted footpaths such as the Jack Mytton Way and parts of the National Cycle Network. As someone who gets lost in his own bathroom, the route loaded onto a bike computer is an essential navigation tool for me.
Up and Atcham
A buzzard floats above us, grey squirrels dart into hedgerows and the rising sun warms our backs. We stop at the pretty 17th-century Langley Chapel before rolling on to the red sandstone ruins of English Heritage’s 13th-century Acton Burnell Castle. Given its politically unstable past, the Anglo-Welsh border was heavily fortified (Wales has more castles per square mile than any other European country), and Acton Burnell is just one romantic ruin to lure fortress fanatics to the Marcher route. King Edward I stayed here when border skirmishes needed his presence; a parliament held at the adjacent (privately owned) Barn of the First Parliament around 1283 is thought to have been the first attended by commoners.
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Like any cycling (or hiking) route, the Marcher Castles Way can be treated as a loose source of inspiration. There’s no shame in cutting corners, trading off-road sections for Tarmac or skipping hills for flat sections. As city-based boys whose hearts will be forever country, we’re relishing the lack of motorised traffic and, with diminishing daylight hours, we skip the taster route’s main urban sections of Shrewsbury and Ironbridge. We instead trundle on quiet country lanes into Atcham. Atop its 18th-century bridge, we encounter the River Severn, a reminder that Shropshire is also labelled the ‘County of Rivers’.
We fail to spot any Atlantic salmon making their upriver journey from the Severn Sea to their spawning grounds near Shrewsbury, although the beauty of 12th-century St Eatas Church provides solace. A short stint on the busy B4380 snaps us out of our Shropshire serenity, but Wroxeter awaits, where the remarkable remains of the fourth-largest town in Roman Britain lie. A forum, bath-house, basilica and public buildings are preserved in the complex, as is the ‘Old Work’ wall that remains the tallest freestanding Roman structure in Britain. English Heritage believes Wroxeter is the best-preserved Roman city in Britain, even if only a fraction of it has been excavated.
We’d love to gawp at Wroxeter’s bath house and pioneering sewer systems for longer but, with decreasing sunlight and increasing levels of hunger, we follow the Severn to the Norman church at Sheinton, with its glorious half-timbered bell tower, and on to Much Wenlock. As well as its 12th-century priory, the market town is famed for hosting a precursor to the modern Olympic Games, beginning in 1850. We briefly contemplate our own Olympic dreams, before laying siege to a fry-up and slab of cake at the Wenlock Smoothie café.
A steep, slippery ascent onto the limestone escarpment of Wenlock Edge, best enjoyed in summer, has us regretting the extra portion of hash browns, but the disused railway line that follows thankfully brings things horizontal again. A red kite is our avian acquaintance in the still and snow-dappled ancient Wenlock woodland, a spellbinding Site of Special Scientific Interest.
Batteries included
While hiking is more tranquil and doesn’t involve the threat of a punctured tyre, where both bikepacking and the more road-based cycle touring shine is in the different landscapes that time-crunched adventurers can encounter on a single ride. And yet our ride has still been conducted at a leisurely pace that has allowed us to see, smell and hear nature. We stop to chat to a dog walker about the local landscape and our bikes, and soon time is no longer our friend, leaving us with 15 miles to ride before sunset. I turn my motor up to 11 (or the most powerful ‘Purple’ mode) and, with plenty of juice to spare despite the battery-draining air temperatures, we reach Church Stretton just before the sun slinks behind the Long Mynd hills.
My ebike has been a great leveller throughout our journey and I’ve been able to keep up with Dave, forever a stronger cyclist than me, for the duration. I’ve ridden further, faster and higher than my current levels of fitness would be capable of on a non-motorised bike, and I can see how electric bikes could encourage a whole new generation of would-be cyclists to the sport. Not forgetting that I’ve had a bucket-load of fun riding it too. This is no moped or motorbike, however, and I’ve still been made to work up an appetite for my pie and mash at Gloucester Services on the return journey home to Bristol, where the Severn becomes a vast estuary.
As for the Marcher Castles loop, in a similar vein to King Alfred’s Way, Cycling UK’s route-planners have again produced a winning showcase that transports cyclists back into Britain’s chequered history and largely away from the worry of encountering motorised traffic. With rugged peaks, riverside trails, open fields and historic sites at every turn, even our truncated version of the shorter taster route has captured Shropshire in all its underrated glory.
Spending multiple days and fully embracing the multi-day riding and camping experience of bikepacking here (and, of course, the multitude of hiking trails and pub gardens) is definitely on my must-do list for midsummer. Complete with an electric bike in tow. Now, where can I buy that Chet Baker album?
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Main image: snow, slopes and sunshine on the 60-mile taster route of the Marcher Castles Way near Acton Burnell. Credit: Steve Sayers
