Somewhere in Ireland – Day 2 Afternoon and Evening (this was supposed to be 16km/10 miles, but by now you must realize that we were in trouble)

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We made the correct turn after the Kilmaley Inn and were convinced that even though we might be a wee bit behind schedule, that we could get to our first lunch stop (Lahinch) in time for a late lunch (faithful reader spoiler alert…according to my journal, we actually made it to the ‘lunch’ spot at 5pm that evening…but more about that later). The back road we were on was quite pleasant….the sun was shining, the landscape was quite beautiful and as we continued to climb higher and higher, the grand Irish scenery came into view. We were to take this lovely road for 2.5 miles then turn at a well-sign posted road to Inagh (for those of you that have travelled to Ireland before, you are now laughing heartily at our assumption that all roads have signposts…especially back roads). To this day, I still don’t have a very good sense of how long 2.5 miles is on a bicycle (pedaling up and down hills with a well packed pannier weighing me down). After some time we started to realize something was amiss… “hey…we sure have been riding a long time…hey guys…don’t you think we probably went a couple of miles by now?? But there was no sign clearly indicating that we were supposed to turn…well I guess you are right…let’s KEEP GOING straight…how far off can we possibly be?...”

To make matters worse, I was getting pretty tired. At this point we had been riding for about 3 hours, much of it uphill. I figured the MOST riding we would do in a day was 3-4 hours, with a few stops in between to chat with the colorful local folk, eat a leisurely lunch, perhaps have some coffee and a scone, and possibly buy a few souvenirs (I was already scheming that I could fill Brian and Geoff’s panniers with purchases!!). But after 3 hours in we were making very little progress so I was a bit concerned. At the top of one particularly gruesome hilly climb, we decided to take a rest, regroup, and figure out where we were. Some workers were nearby and one nice lad walked over to us to ask where we were going and to tell us that there was a natural water spring not far down the road. At first we couldn’t understand a word he was saying….he kept pointing far ahead saying “toes trays tar….toes trays tar…ye fine a sprig” . This lad helped us with an alternate path to our location and he was on his way. We took his advice to check out the spring. This was incredible. Old stone steps just appear on the side of the road where no one would know they existed if they were passing by. The steps led down to the spring (where the lad and his friend also went to fill up their water bottles). We did the same. The water was very cold, and tasted delicious. The three of us decided that we were meant to be diverted to this place, and so with our bottles refilled with refreshing spring water, we set out to try and find our way out of the area.

We ended up getting directions several times from passers by (who kept stopping and asking ‘are you lost dears?’). Part of our ‘recovery route’ was down back roads that were very hilly going down. When I say hilly, I mean these hills must have been 45-75 degree drops (my companions would disagree but this is my blog and I am recording factual history here). It might sound like a lot of fun riding down a hill for a change, but remember dear reader that I am in my mid 40s and had a fairly well-stocked pannier on my bike, and while I tried to reduce the bulk of my frame before this trip, I am still a big guy. I was like a runaway freight train going down these mini-mountains…the squeal from my brakes could be heard three counties away…I was certain that I was going to either hit a pot hole and become airborne for a good 10 minutes before crashing back down, or else I would crash into a vehicle when going through an intersection that I obviously could not stop at. [Note: when one rides ‘down’ hills for 30 minutes, but the trip is only half done…what does one realize is waiting for him at the other half of the trip?? Look up Cliffs of Moher…that is where we were headed…].

Well we finally made it to Inagh (not on the route) and stopped for some lunch at 3:30. For lunch, I had a pint of Guinness to calm myself and deaden the nerve endings in my screaming quads. Brian and Geoff had a sandwich. After consulting our maps, we decided to skip the back roads from our directions and take the main road to Lahinch. This was another long stretch on fast roads, but at this point we just wanted to get to our B&B in Doolin and we were still 15 or so miles away. It started to rain as we rode, and the wind picked up. We rode through Ennistymon, a very cool village with a medieval castle and several pretty churches, but we were no longer stopping for pictures. It was getting cold and the rain/wind was getting worse and making things tough.

The next town past Ennistymon was Lahinch, our intended lunch stop. Lahinch is on a road that is a gradual climb to the coast. I suppose it was meant to be a pleasant ride, but the wind and rain was picking up and we just wanted this hell to be over. Geoff (who used to ride 10 miles to work each day on his bike) was totally fine, Brian was gradually losing his enthusiasm for our little ‘adventure’, and I was saying private prayers that the Cycling company would be worried that we never arrived at our first B&B and would send a warm bus to pick us up…I couldn’t admit this to my friends at the time, because after all, it was me that wanted to do this wonderful bike trip in Ireland (I wanted to take a 7-day trip but Brian put is foot down…thank you Brian). As we slowly pedaled up the Himalayan mountain towards Lahinch, I noticed out of the corner of my eye…way off in the distance…the Cliffs of Moher!!! What a welcome site…we actually made it to the ocean…we could see it. This bolstered our spirits to finish the climb into Lahinch. We made the turn to the road for the Cliffs, but really needed a bathroom. So we turned into the first available location…the Lahinch Country Club…established in 1873…nice place…we just walked in and had a seat in the dining room. We got some looks, let me tell you. After a much needed rest (and yes another pint), we slowly made our way back outside, saddled up and headed off…little did we know the worst hills were yet to come (we still had 10 MILES to go). That is all I am going to say about the hills….it is too painful to relive.
We finally made it to the split where we could go on to the Cliffs of Moher visiter center (another 700 meters straight up) or the downhill coastal road to our evening stop, Doolin…yeah right. The visitor center closed hours ago and it was foggy and raining hard (picture that scene in Caddyshack, where Bill Murray caddies for the Priest that is having his best game ever in the middle of a hurricane-like windstorm….hmmm…) We turned right and headed down that hill with nary a disagreement between us…it was 7pm and we were cold, wet and very hungry. Now dear reader I will recite from my journal:
“We made it several kilometers down the coastal road into Doolin in several minutes…almost a straight drop in some parts. With the rain I was worried about losing control and falling over the edge of the cliff, not to mention the cars zooming past us. We passed (in a blur) some great architecture such as cool round houses, some ruins on the side of the road near the beach. As we came into Doolin you could tell this was a very touristy town. The houses are all different colors with lots of shops. Too bad all I could think about was a hot shower and some food. We found the Suantri B&B easily enough, and were greeted at the door. Our luggage was waiting for us in our room. The room was very clean, roomy with two twin beds and a double bed. We stripped off our wet clothes, and climbed into bed for a bit to get warm and give private thanks for making it to the first pit stop.” After a much needed shower we headed to O’Connor’s pub for a hot whiskey and dinner. Several musicians started to play in the next room, and as we filled our bellies, and the whiskey melted away the soreness from our muscles, we raised a glass in congratulations to each other for surviving our first day. Day 1 completed…to be continued…

Gaelic word/phrase of the day: Is é an ghaoth riamh ar do dhroim

Bonus Gaelic word/phrase of the day: sucks rothar suas cnoc in Éirinn
(bicycle up hill in Ireland sucks)
Bonus bonus Gaelic word/phrase of the day: Is maith fuisce te
(hot whiskey is good)

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Photos

Secret Artesian Well
No signs for this huge find!! A secret stone path to an artesian well.

Artesian well path
View of the path from in the trees

Steps to Artesian well
close up of the steps to the artesian well

Cliffs of Moher
Approaching Lahinch, cliffs of moher in the distance

Comments

[Joan Masters]

Glad you made it!
Nothing looks better than seeing you lodgings at the end of a ride. I will drink a Guinness in your honor. I love the first Gaelic phrase. Awaiting to more.