Hole!!!

One of the best parts about being a cyclist is the unspoken solidarity that has always existed among riders. From the friendly wave as you pass in the opposite direction to grouping up if heading the same way, there's an understanding that we all suffer the same pain and the same dangers and, equally, we all enjoy the same freedom and fitness benefits.

That's why what happened to me yesterday is both annoying and disappointing.

I was coming home via Malahide and came up behind a Swords CC rider at a set of lights. I acknowledged him and made the usual friendly remark on what a nice morning it was. His stilted reply made it clear he wasn't interested in chatting. Fair enough.

He went ahead of me but at pretty much my pace so I was able to get in behind him. I'd had a hard enough spin so was very grateful for a bit of a tow around the coast. He was aware I was there but obviously wasn't interested in any interaction, or sharing the pace. It also became quite clear he wasn't going to make any concession to my being there which meant several times I had to take action to prevent touching wheels when he changed pace, got out of the saddle or swerved a bit.

Coming through Portmarnock we stopped at lights. Again, not so much as a nod when I came alongside him. Then, approaching the roundabout for Baldoyle, he gave a sudden swerve and I just got a bief glimpse of the pothole as I hit it full on.

I knew straight away, from the sound of both wheels hittig, that this wasn't good and, sure enough, quickly felt rim on tarmac. Not just one, but both tyres were flattened!

That was annoying enough. Two punctures, 6km from home, is not what you need. But what really got my goat was the behaviour of my "companion". No shouted warning of the pothole, no hand down to his side to indicate which side it was on and not even a look back to see what had happened. I might be being unfair on that last one but I can't imagine he didn't hear the unmistakable sound of the impacts and he couldn't have missed my shouted, expletive-laden reaction.

Maybe my standards are too high but, to my mind, the unwritten code of the road dictates you look out for your fellow rider, whether you know them or not. We've all heard that crunching sound and felt the air rush from under us. We've all had to change a tube/tyre on the roadside with wet, cold and filthy hands. And, I thought, we all know that it's just the right thing to do to help each other out.

So my blood was boiling at the sight of Mr Swords riding off into the sun without a thought or a care for a fellow rider left marooned.

To make matters worse, I quickly discovered that one of the two tubes I had with me was also punctured! (Note to self: swap punctured tubes as soon as possible when you get home, no matter how tired you are, so as not to forget before the next ride). As I stood waiting for my lift to come and rescue me, it was a salutory experience to find that my friend wasn't alone in not caring. At least twenty riders, singly and in groups, passed me and only one, yes ONE!, stopped to see if I needed help.

So this is an appeal to all who ride the roads. If someone is riding behind you, whether you want them there or not, the least you can do is warn them of upcoming hazards, the same as you would if you were in a group. Plus, if you see a rider stopped with a problem, please check they are OK. It might cost you a few minutes, or a donation of a tube, but remember, it could be you someday.

The race around Ireland - Part 2

I can now confirm that Ultra-marathon bike races are NOT a spectator sport!

I spent a very frustrating evening driving the route in Wicklow trying to find some riders to cheer on. Unfortunately I got there too late to see the first two teams (Team No Prior Experience and An Post Connaught) pass through on their epic battle for the team prize.

They finished a mere 40 minutes apart after 1324.5 miles of non-stop relay racing. Incredible.

I started in Enniskerry and wound my way south along the route, stopping for a while in Glenmacnasse and Drumgoff hoping to see some lights down the respective valleys. No joy there! Everyone else was hours behind the two leading teams.

Eventually, as it started to get a bit darker, I headed to Slieve Maan telling myself (and my wife at home!) that if I didn't see anyone coming there I'd call it a night.

Happily I had just got to the summit when Team Tailteann appeared around the last bend of the climb. I jumped out, shouted some encouragement and at least got a pic of him. He was, understandably, struggling to get over the top but moving pretty well.

Even better, after he went by there was another flashing light down in the valley below. About five minutes behind was the Swords CC rider similarly struggling up. His car pulled over to ask me the time gap and then on they went.

I waited for a short while but no more lights appeared so I hopped into the car and followed down the descent. I was able to overtake the Swords rider on Drumgoff and got this shot of him passing the Shay Elliot Memorial.

Now, apart from the spectator issue, the main thing that struck me about watching these guys was the loneliness of their effort. Despite having shared the riding most of the way around the country these guys were now tackling most of the hardest climbs in Wicklow, on their own, as the light faded. Apart from me there was no-one cheering them on. In fact I think I was such a rare sight both even managed a breathless "Thanks" as I cheered them past.

I followed the Swords guy down the descent into Laragh. As he took it very carefully indeed in the fading light it made me really appreciate the sheer scale of what they were doing. And they, or their team mates, still had Sally Gap, Luggala, The Old Long Hill, Kilgarron in Enniskerry, the Devils Elbow in Glencullen and the Feather Beds to climb/descend through the night hours before the relatively flat final stretch around the edge of the city to Navan.

Unfortunately I couldn't wait for Joe Barr to come up the climb. Word from the Swords car was that he was taking a rest in Aughrim so it would probably have been an hour or two before he'd have come up, in complete darkness. If that was tough for the teams I can't begin to imagine what it was going to be like for him and his fellow solo riders. Is it an advantage to not be able to see the road rise in the darkness, when you've ridden 1200 odd miles on a few hours sleep?

I'm truly in awe!

See http://www.racearoundireland.com for the race website and http://www.justgiving.com/joebarr-racearoundireland/ to donate to Joe Barrs charity appeal.