Memories - One hell of a ride!

On the 20^th and 21^st August thousands will take part in the Sean Kelly Tour of Waterford.

I have once again signed up to tackle the gruelling Sean Kelly 160km, along with many another Lycra clad pedal pushers – drivers be warned, the roads will literally be thronging with cyclists!

My memory of last year, the first time I tackled this most challenging of cycling events, is still very vivid and fresh, as though it was only yesterday that I completed the course, over some of Sean’s “training routes”. Whilst, I will never be a great cyclist, like Sean, I can at least say I have trained on the roads that made him the great cycling ambassador for Waterford!

Here is my memory of the 2015 Sean Kelly 160km.

I collected my goodie bag, the night before the event. This contained; a snazzy commemorative race jersey, a bottle of water, a couple of flapjacks, wristband and a bike registration number sticker. When I returned to the car I had a feeling that I would need far more than a couple of flapjacks and one bottle of water, to complete the daunting task that I would take on the very next day.

At 07:45 I and ten other Biscuits, set off from Dungarvan on an adventure that would test each and every one of us. Ahead lay 160 kilometres of hills, hills and more hills!!!!!

As we shot up The Pike and veered left at Lemybrien, we cycled for around 10km with the imposing Mahon Falls, shrouded by black low clouds, taunting us, teasing us and ultimately calling us, knowing that we would have to cycle, walk or crawl up this wicked hill at around 120km into the route.

But our first real challenge would be a wee hill called “Tickincor” at around 55km. Now if you have never heard of this hill go out, find it and try to drive up it. You will very quickly see just how steep it is and then image how hard it is to cycle up the damn thing!

Roche & Kelly

The “Powers The Pot” was the next hill at around 90km. Some comedian spray painted “3km to go” after what seemed like an eternity on the hill, just to remind us how hard the bloody climb was. There was a collective intake of breath, the odd swear word, when I and my fellow Biscuits crossed this marker and a realisation we were only halfway up this mammoth test of endurance. Up at the top, the Biscuits regrouped, then a quick food stop at Rathgormack and we headed towards the final challenge of the dreaded, nasty climb up Mahon Falls.

At around 120km the Falls called us like some cruel Siren would have called Greek ships to their doom. Low gear selected, with some “Rusty Spokes” ahead of me to chase up the Falls, I dropped my head down and I was off. Some hellish 20 odd minutes later, it was all over and a quick regroup with my fellow Biscuits and it was “all downhill” to the finish (so they told me).

No it wasn’t! We still had the 7km or 8km drag up the Mama Road.

Mama Road conquered and now it was mostly downhill to the finish line in Dungarvan. We had enough in our legs to manage a wee sprint and top speed of 53kph on the borders of Dungarvan.

One final regroup and these 11 Biscuits crossed the line together in perfect formation. Our wee group had stayed together for 160km of torture, hell, fun, laughs, memories and a sense of accomplishment.

Well done to ALL involved. A great event, great company, great event organisation, a great “Packet of Biscuits” and above all a great occasion for Waterford to be VERY proud of.

It was one hell of a ride! Bring on the 2016 SKT.

The question is, will I be so elated after next Sunday’s cycle. Oh the joys of looking forward to “THAT” pain in my legs once again!

Lost In Kilkenny!

With the papers, quite rightly, giving blanket coverage to #GE16, and journalists and their editors writing many column inches debating the rights and wrongs of the possible makeup of the next Government. I thought that it would be appropriate to stay away from such political commentary this week and besides it has become very clear that I not great at making predications. I had tipped Scotland to win the Six Nations!

I did get three out of the four candidate selections right, but admittedly in the wrong order, and I did suggest that a large cohort of the population were not engaged with politics and therefore they would not be voting. The 36.3% of the electorate or 30,000 people in the Waterford constituency who did not vote could have made a substantial difference to the final results, but as they did not engage or were not engaged, through what was after all a very sterile campaign, we returned two new candidates and two existing candidates. Clearly there was something for everyone from #GE16.

Having decided to stay away from the politics over the weekend, though still receiving regular updates directly from the count centre on the auld smart phone, I squeezed into the Lycra, packed the unicycle into the Mini and headed to Clonmel to take part in a charity cycle for Down Syndrome Ireland and specifically the Cycle for Sarah.

Around 100 Lycra clad people took part in the 130km Cycle for Sarah and there were six plucky members of the Waterford Biscuit Club who made the trip on a very, very cold and wintery Saturday morning. Suitably dressed in our unique Cookie Monster cycling tops we headed out of Clonmel shortly after 10:00 and cycled straight into a freezing cold Arctic wind as we set our sights on getting to the pit stop in Kilkenny as fast as possible.

Once out of Clonmel the large group naturally began to fracture into smaller packets of biscuits and being the competitive Scotsman that I am I chased down the guys at the front and soon we were a small selection of six, six men that really had no idea what so ever where we were actually going.

Spotted hiding in Kilkenny. 

As we ploughed on, counting down the kilometres, one of the marshals directed us right, off the main road, and straight up a rather steep hill and onto some very quiet back roads that seemed to be taking us in an easterly direction. We eventually decided to turn left cycling a few more kilometres, up some more steep hills, through some very small hamlets and onto the ubiquitous single track roads you inevitably come across in Ireland when you take a wrong turn.

Clearly we were lost in Kilkenny.

But no man worth his salt would ever admit to being lost, so we continued battling the wind and cold and then “BANG”! No were not shot by some Deliverance cast member we had a puncture that took an eternity to fix due to a very finicky valve that would not play ball. We had stopped in the middle of nowhere and the silence was only broken by the sound of the odd gunshot, crows calling and the cackle of male pheasant who was no doubt laughing at us. Eventually, we got moving once again and steered roughly in the direction of Kilkenny.

SPEEEEEEED!

Arriving with hypothermia in Kilkenny we stopped for a warm cup of coffee and some soup, where I checked the election update and knew that there was every possibility of some shock results on the way. I jumped back onto the bike for a quick flat-out blast back to Clonmel to get home to see if I needed to buy yet another wooden spoon!

It was a great way to spend a Saturday morning and to stay somewhat remote from all the #GE16 results. The company was great and the scenery was not too bad either.