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| From My Pictures |
The Ring of Kerry, famous throughout the world and known as one of the most beautiful locations in Ireland was the target for this weekend, As I had done this last year I knew what to expect so rather than rush down to Kenmare and pick up from where I left off last time I thought I would add a little extra to this weekend and take in the scenery around Killarney and in particular the Gap of Dunloe.
With some of Kerry's best mountain scenery and two gaps to climb through this is a rewarding if Strenuous ride. The Gap of Dunloe seperates Irelands highest mountains, MacGillycuddy's Reeks, from Purple Mountain. The Gap road starts at Kate Kearney's Cottage, a touristy little complex, which serves bar food. It was originally a coaching Inn, where Kate bewitched customers with her beauty (or was it illegal poteen - potato based firewater - that she served?) The Gap road is supposedly closed to motor traffic but don’t expect solitude; in summer its packed with pony traps walkers and cyclists - and the odd naughty car (hardly surprising with scenery this good). The climb is not a steady one; chunks of altitude are gained in short steep bursts and, though it’s all paved, expect to encounter some loose gravel and rough surfaces, especially on the steeper sections.
Climbing up the Gap at dawn is one of the delights of cycling. With no traffic on the roads, no horse and carts, no walkers and no other cyclists you get a truly serene feeling winding up and over the various bridges criss crossing the water that tumbles down to the myriad pools and small burns. Going past the few houses with their occupants still fast asleep and the remains of long abandoned farms where you can only imagine what sort of bleak existence it must have been to live in such remote beauty was a truly fantastic to start the weekend. The fact it wasn’t raining helped as well. At the top the descent into the Black Valley is great fun as long as you avoid the bottomless potholes and suicidal sheep.
The glorious Black Valley lies to the other side. Look back from the valley and it seems that a wall of mountains surround you
Reaching Kenmare the magical spell was broken when the heavens opened for the first time of the day and started the first round of the game of "is it going to stop raining or shall I put on my waterproofs". Seemed that whenever I decided it was a shower and would stop soon it would get exponentially heavier and soak me and when I decided to stop and change it would invariably stop 30 seconds after I had clambered into them. The road out to Waterville is pretty poor quality but one of the best things of doing this in April in the rain is I tended to have most of it to myself. The wind was something else though with gusts so strong at times I almost stopped. In fact just as I came to the most westerly point of the Ring I did in fact come to a standstill with just fierce headwinds I hid behind a rock to escape the horizontal ballistic rain drops it was hurling my way.
The route passes through some of the more spectacular scenery on the Ring though most of it not until late in the day. The road undulates more past Sneem although climbing is generally gradual. The most significant hill is the 5km climb to Coomakesta Pass. Traffic is reasonably heavy (not today thank goodness) and the road surface patched and bumpy at times. Travelling past fields and forest the coast is barely visible for 14km after which you're right by it, briefly. The mountains appear around Sneem, a town seemingly geared for the tour bus crowd (had a nice hot drink in a bar where one punter was drinking Guiness at 10am). In tiny Castle Cove plaques commemorate local sons including Joseph White, All Ireland Cycling champion 1952-54. Climbing from Caherdaniel the views over Derryname National Park, the harbour and islands are magnificent
Last time I did this cycle I stopped off for the night at Waterville and stayed in a hotel down by the beach. That was some memorable night I can tell you. I was shattered (I wasn't as fit as I am now thats for certain) and I asked the manager if he could place me in a quiet room as far from the bar as possible. He was most obliging, though he did confess to being new to the job, and I guess it had completely slipped his mind that the room he gave me was directly above the nightclub. Needless to say my exhausted sleep was shattered when the nightclub started up and my bed started to bounce around the room in time with the bass pumping up through the floor, Unable to sleep I surfed the TV channels finally watching nothing better than Das Boat (in German) with Irish subtitles. I eventually left the hotel at 4.30am and cycled off into the pouring raid only to come a cropper some hours later outside Knightstown.
Not this time though. Even with all the miles done so far I felt grand so pushed on and whistled around the Ring of Skellig which is a smaller ring at the Western end that nobody but locals tend to go around.
The terrain is mainly undulating (I love that word, hides so much pain) with three main climbs. The second, to Coomanaspig Pass, is very steep and often walked (and yes I walked). Rough patches mar the descent, sections of the road on Valentia Island are also rough and potholed. Leaving the N70 the route heads south west to the tiny settlement of Ballinskelligs and climbs through patchwork fields to the western edge of the peninsular and the Atlantic. Stone walls cut through the fields to the cliffs above the ocean. On misty days sheep and white cottages are bright spots among the green and grey. Ruined cottages hint at the hardship here during the Great Famine: many were forced to leave.
The ride down to Portmagee was a delightful rest marrred only by the fact I almost broke my left wrist when i hit a rain filled pothole. Sweeping down the road and into the sleepy little fishing village was made even better by the knowledge that my journey for the day was almost over.
Once across the little ferry at Knightstown I passed the spot where my previous forray into Kerry came to an abrupt end last year. That time I had stopped in order to pump some more air into my back tyre only, in my utter incompetence, to snap the valve. This was compounded by the fact that I had no spare and it was 9am on a rainy Sunday morning. My spirits were as damp as my cycling gear with the realization that my journey was at an end so I walked back to the ferry in the hope of getting a taxi back to Killarney. The ferryman suggested I ask one of the locals for a lift to Cahersiveen which I duly did and was rewarded with a lift into town. Only problem is that I forgot to remove my handlebar bag from his van and it was only as he drove off to work that I realised I had no money, keys to my apartment or mobile phone. Luckily for me I found some coins in my pocket and was able to phone a very sleepy Susie who I gave instructions to war dial my mobile in the hope he would hear it and return. Luck was on my side as sometime later he came back into town and handed the bag back to me. Boy was I lucky!!
Anyway my arrival into Cahersiveen was under my own power this time so after checking into my B&B I treated myself to a shower, quiet drink in the pub and watched the 2nd half of Munsters Hieneken cup quarter final, a nice meal at a fish resteraunt, a packet of yoghurt raisins and an early night. The film I was watching was so boring it sent me to sleep which would have been ok except that I was eating my raisins at the time and awoke in the morning to find them all squashed in my bed. Hope the landlord wasn't too upset but I didnt hang around to find out as I was up and out at the crack of dawn the next day.
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