WE had a glorious few days on the Beara peninsula this weekend, eking the very last drop out of the summer holidays and one last, long intake of West Cork air before the countdown to Santy begins.
As I wrote here last week, I made the rather optimistic decision a few months back to give the Tour De Beara a crack, never having taken part in an organised cycling event before and curious to see what the aul body could handle. There was no training plan, no strict diet followed, just regular long-ish cycles on weekend mornings to keep the cardio fitness on some sort of even keel. I knew I wouldn’t be exactly sprinting for the finish line.
So on the drive down last Friday evening, I was a little fearful about how it would all go. I had my eye on the Met Éireann app all week. At one point it looked like biblical rain and high winds for the whole day which had me a little anxious. The forecast improved as the week went on, but this is Ireland after all, so you never know.
We made a weekend of it, taking a mobile home near Adrigole, a little spot of heaven a few minutes from the water, surrounded by Trafrask bog, just off the R572. Why not take the opportunity to indoctrinate my little Dubliners with some more exposure to my home county, I thought?
The owners Eleanor and Declan are the kind of people who have everything in its right place, food in the fridge and were kindly on hand whenever we needed anything. Pure decent folks and a credit to their community.
When we started the cycle early on Saturday morning, there was a strong drizzle falling as we left Glengarriff, but within 20 minutes the sky was brightening, and we ended up having a good dry morning up to lunchtime when the rains came in heavy again. The wind gods were also on our side, and we didn’t really get hit by anything like we expected as we set off in the direction of Adrigole.
Luckily, I wasn’t alone. Even though cycling is mostly a solitary pursuit for me and I like to get out for a long stretch on the weekends to get my head out of the washing machine of work, my brother-in-law came on board at the last minute to do the 90km with me. The company was lovely and it really helped to keep the old mental demons at bay when the going got tough.
How did it go? Well, I finished it, spending about four-and-a-quarter hours on the bike enjoying some of the most stunning scenery in the world. There were tough moments, but I kept a very steady and slow pace, making sure to retain as much energy as I could on the downhills and being realistic about my climbing speed. My aim was to get to the 40km mark in Eyeries and decide what to do from there, as there was a short break planned where the locals put on a fine spread of buttered barmbrack, sandwiches, coffees and all sorts of fruit and refuelling goodness.
As we left from the club gates, a local organiser thanked us for coming and wished us well for the rest of the trip. With the 6km climb up the Caha Pass ahead, he could sense we were a bit nervous. ‘Yerrah, ‘tis only a bit of an ol‘ shlope’, he said, ‘ye’ll be grand’. And with that, we were off again.
The cycle we did was the shortest option of three, but we saw so much spectacular scenery and such a variety of landscapes along the way. There were angry seas churning in Bantry Bay as we zoomed along the coast while the bare, brown rocky outcrops of Hungry Hill overlooked us.
We made our way through more luscious rainforest as we approached Lauragh. Then came the 300m climb up the Caha Pass, the part I had been worrying about.
I needed a break or two along the way – it was a handy excuse to stop and take a few photos – and it didn’t help that there were lads flying up past me on the very final steep ascent. But I did it, crawling to the top with an amazing feeling of accomplishment and a bit of a sore arse. We spent a few minutes taking in the views and snapping ourselves for posterity but I was anxious to keep going – no point stiffening up. There was the descent to follow – what goes up must come down after all – and flying down the other side of the Caha Pass, winding back in towards Glengarriff was truly one of the most wonderful experiences I’ve ever had.
The event itself was brilliantly organised. We arrived back into Eccles Hotel where juicy burgers and pints were available, a DJ was in situ and the buzz was wonderful. We crossed the finish line around lunchtime having kicked off just before nine.
There were riders returning in dribs and drabs for the rest of the day having done the more challenging 120km and 160km routes. Fair play to them. Next year, who knows, I might be able for a slightly longer spin.
Long may the Tour De Beara continue. It’s a fantastic community event, with an incredible atmosphere and something I feel privileged to have taken part in. And there couldn’t be a lovelier spot for a bit of a weekend spin.
