5000 bike riders will cross the start line in Belfast, next Sunday fortnight. Some of them will be trying to complete the 180km as quickly as they can. The rest, like me, will just be trying and hoping to get around in one piece
I’ve trained like a dog for it though, covering almost 7000km and the equivalent of the height of Everest 6 times. I’ve gone out in all weathers, from -50 in November to 160 this evening. I’ve trained in the rain throughout the winter to the err, rain this evening (at least it was warmer rain today).
I’ve noticed the muscle build up on my legs and how my strength has improved. I’ve learned how to train according to my heart rate, how to raise it under effort, how to allow it normalise, before raising it again. I’ve learned how to preserve energy and how to recover quickly. I’ve learned the importance of diet, the proper foods to eat and the foods to avoid. In my younger days, I smoked heavily; I now despise smoking with a passion. I used to drink pretty heavily; now, I haven’t had a drink in almost 2 years. I gave 20 years on blood pressure medication; I haven’t needed it with over 2 years. At my last visit to the Doc, he said to me “whatever you’re doing, just keep doing it”.
I’ve made some great friends from the various clubs in the locality. I’ve sat in “The Bean” with Tom Dalton, as he tried to explain some of the science involved in bike set-up and training plans. I’ve gotten a few bollockings from Mick Kelly, for not following advice, or for overdoing it and not listening to my body as it advised me to take it easy for a few days. I read Barry Meehan’s Blogs with enthusiasm. I read every Sticky Bottle article and the diaries of Nicolas Roche and Sam Bennett. At night, I watch the GCN programmes on YouTube and of course, there’s nothing to beat Carlton Kirby and Sean Kelly commentating on the classics, on Eurosport.
As a late comer to the sport of cycling, you can see that it plays a big part of my life. I love everything to do with the sport, even when I come home frozen and soaked through. However, if our club was entering a team in The Rás, I doubt they would call on me. You see, you still need a little bit of ability, so I’ll never win any races or compete at any level. I just haven’t got that ability and indeed, age isn’t on my side either.
As a person that enjoys writing, I love to stretch out like this evening and write about my experiences. Recently, I have started to make my own movies of my experiences and also recently, I have been very kindly invited to talk about my experiences on radio, something that I thoroughly enjoy.
However, there is a dark side to the sport too. A tragic side that is threatening to spiral out of control. The roads in Ireland have become death traps for people like me, that just enjoy riding their bikes.
Earlier this evening, I set out from home. I only had about 2 hours available, so I planned about 50km of a route. There was a strong breeze and heavy showers; it was cloudy, but very humid. My route included hills, so lights, front and rear, were a prerequisite. I also wore hi viz clothing and used my Garmin Connect App, so the lads at home would know my whereabouts at all times. Better safe than sorry.
About 5km out the road, on a twisty bit, a car approached. Behind me, I could hear another car approaching. After a few moments, I noticed that the car behind was not slowing down. Now, please bear in mind the following: I’m alone, so I’m obviously not “two abreast”. I’m well in on the left. I have my hi-viz jacket on and my lights front and rear are on pulse mode, i.e.: they are emitting a strong pulse of light, for increased visibility. The car coming from behind flashes between me and the oncoming car, totally oblivious to the danger for me. If I hit a hole, skidded or swerved, I would have been number 9.
“What’s number 9?” you ask. Well, you see 8 cyclists have been killed on Irish roads this year, 2 in the past week alone. Innocent people that chose to ride their bikes and died in the process. 8 people that didn’t come home from a fucking bike spin.
I stopped in Ardfinnan this evening, at the traffic lights on the bridge. There was a line of traffic in front and behind me. I signalled to the motorists behind to go ahead, as there was no point in me holding them up. The lights went green, some of the cars moved, except for the lady on her phone, who didn’t notice the lights. Eventually, she copped it and moved.
As I left Clogheen, to head for home, I approached my last junction on the Ardfinnan road. I signalled that I was turning left, heading for Cahir, but the lady in the Ford Galaxy, coming against me, never as much as looked at me, as she cut straight across in front of me. So much for my hi viz, my front light and it’s extremely strong pulse mode.
So that was my Monday evening training spin. I kept to the quietest roads I could, conducted myself, took every precaution I could and what did it achieve?? Nothing, pure and simple.
Can people not accept that a 75kg cyclist, sitting on 6 or 7kg of Carbon Fibre, versus 2 tonnes of metal / steel, travelling at 80kph is no contest? Can people not accept that you have the potential to kill a human being, every time you go out on the road?? Can people not accept that the bike rider, or pedestrian for that matter, is a father, mother, son, daughter, husband or wife?? Can people not just bloody accept that the person is a human being?? What, in the name of god is happening??
I for one, am sick of reading the same old comments about bike riders holding them up on a Sunday morning. I’m sick of the same old nonsense about bike riders running through red lights for example. I don’t know one person that would run through a light, but I’ve seen it happen. I’m sick of the argument that the promised legislation about 1.5m passing distance is unworkable. Why is it unworkable? How come it works all over the world, but not here? How come, it can work for the vast majority of motorists, but it can’t work for some? How come it’s acceptable to tarnish everybody for the actions of a few? For instance, I drive a Ford Mondeo. If I am caught speeding on the road, does that mean that all Mondeo drivers are speeders? That would be a nonsensical thing to even suggest. I saw a guy in Clonmel last weekend, cycling through Irishtown on the footpath. Is he typical of the bike riders in the town? More nonsense, of the highest order. I’m sick of the RHA talking nonsense. How many truck drivers have been killed by bikes? The IFA, asking for cycling licenses. (Psst lads, call down to the mart in Cahir next Wednesday and take a look at the cycle lanes) I’m sick of the Garda Traffic Corps and their contribution to road safety that cyclists wear a helmet and hi viz. Great stuff lads, nothing like a plastic cap and a luminous jacket to stop a 40 tonne truck. Waterford Whispers couldn’t come up with this stuff.
A few years ago, I had a job as a driver. I walked away from it, as I absolutely hated every second of it. It was nothing to do with a fine reputable employer that I had at the time. It just wasn’t for me and I would go hungry before I would drive for a living again. My heart would go out to any truck driver or any professional driver, facing Irish roads every day.
In the meantime, what can be done, if anything? That’s the 6 million dollar question. Recently, there have been videos of close passes and ridiculous driving posted onto YouTube and social media. I asked a Solicitor friend of mine if that could jeopardise a potential court case. Her answer was “Yes, it would. It’s called prejudicial trial by media”.
So, the carnage will continue. People will still drive to their driving test, fail the test, then get back in the car that they are considered incapable of driving and drive it home again. In Ireland, a driving licence is considered a birthright, not a valuable skill that has to be learned and improved upon. The woman that passed me, in her fancy Audi A6 last week, at a very dangerous junction, glued to her mobile phone, is probably out on the road tonight.
A few years ago, I had a boat. Nothing fancy, just a rib, but I had great times on it. I did my Powerboat Level 1 course and exam in Bray and I’ll always remember the brilliant tuition I received from Damien and his gang up there. A few months later, I was with a large group of other boat enthusiasts on Lough Corrib. As we headed through the lake towards Maam, I remember looking around and the sight was something else. There were speed boats, ribs, motor cruisers and jet skis in the flotilla. I never felt so safe in my life. Why is that? Simple. Training, respect, common sense and a feeling throughout the group, of concern for the greater good. “If anything happens out here, it would or could be serious”, was on everybody’s mind. A great weekend was had, without any incident, in a so called inhospitable environment.
If it can be done on a lake, or at sea, why can’t it be done on the road. I wish I could answer that.
So, thats my blog for now. No answers, lots of questions, just more knocks on doors with tragic news to come.
Today, the day I almost became number 9.
The Unknown Bike Rider 