After our 3 day break in Killarney, it was back to "work". We had done our 1st load of laundry the day before (lots of hand washing), so packed it all up & headed out past the mountains & forest we had ridden through the previous days. Traveled on an "N" road which is a highway with pull off lanes that are perfect for cyclists. Later it turned into 2 lanes up a long slow hill with a more narrow edge. We did find a few "L" roads that generally paralleled the highway, are smaller, less heavily traveled & wind through farmland & small villages. Some of these are designated as specific cycle routes too which of coarse we love . We arrived in Macroom, which despite having a castle, seemed much more of a work a day locale. The end of the day traffic was bumper to bumper & more harrowing than we'd experienced before. We were relieved to see a nice walking path over the river. We found Penns Pub which only had a few patrons. After a few minutes, we had a new bartender who was quite friendly & informative. We had found a B&B online (all the pubs have WiFi) & she approved of our choice. She commiserated with us about the traffic and discussed the local economy a bit. The pub used to have a restaurant & hostel but the area had fallen on harder times. I also figured out that it was Penns bar because William Penn's (Pennsylvania) brother was from there. We then headed to Fountain House B&B on a lovely lake, met Breda & her 3 youngest elementary age boys, Mark, Simon & David. She offered to do laundry & since we're apparently in an Irish heat wave (highs almost 70), that was much appreciated. She also had a 7 month old puppy, a white Golden Retriever who we all loved on.
(Joyce)
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Today we woke up and went straight to O'Sullivan's bike shop in town to fix Mark's bike. The back cassette on the bike required replacement.
Charlie, Joyce, and I went searching for an ATM, and then off on the grocery store hunt. Since the beginning of this trip my daily hunger has doubled. I also have developed an addiction to ice cream. With these two new facts, I noticed that most grocery stores have an ice cream cone advertisement, about as tall as I am, standing outside of each store. Found the cone – found the grocery store. Inside we purchased sandwiches for lunch, and beer and snacks for the day. Now off for our new daily adventure: First, we devoured the sandwiches, hence the photo above of Joyce :) Second, we got onto the bike paths that we rode to get to the castle. Third, we stopped at the Muckross Friary -everything was built in “Skye” height, except for one hallway -the middle of the building had a tree growing up through the middle, and a walkway all around Fourth, we went to Muckross House -while we were there we just strolled around the huge garden. Fifth, we got back on the path and stopped at a beach on the way to the waterfall. Sixth, the waterfall. Seventh, back to Golden Nugget. -Golden Nugget is a pub that we have spent almost every dinner at in Killarney. -The people are friendly, the food is delectable, and it is not overrun by tourists. While we were there, we ordered clam chowder and the three folks sitting next to us made a joke (too quiet for us to hear) about Americans. I guess we must have been eating really fast, but we were all starving for our well earned calories. I noticed that they were showing card tricks earlier in the night so I decided to go blow their minds. I borrowed their deck and earned myself a glass of wine from the group. Two of the three were from Germany, Andreas and Nicole. In town for work. The third, oddly enough, was the bike shop owner from the beginning of our day. He shared a few tricks and went home to the lovely wife. We stayed and drank beer/wine with Andreas and Nicole and had the chance to get to know the two. Lesson of the day: Learn another language, and respect people who have already done so. Nicole, an amazing woman, spoke small amounts of English but continued to hold a conversation with me throughout the night. I appreciate how much effort she put into understanding me and helping me understand her. I never felt a strong desire to learn a new language until I was unable to speak German with Nicole. She has my full respect, and I will always be thankful for her helping me see the value in learning for others and not just yourself. -Skye Weather, sunny and warm (are we in Ireland?)
Around Kilarney: First and largest national park Big beautiful lakes Big beautiful mountains Fast moving water Lots of bike paths Lots, lots of history Bike rides: Rode a couple miles to base of Ross castle and beginning of lakes. Got on motorboats (20 foot long wooden outboard with room for bikes and 15 people) Rode the boats upstream through three lakes with fairly hairy rivers between them. Finally to base of some of the biggest mts in Ireland. On bikes, no gear, they feel like feathers. Up the mountain to the gap of Dunloe. Shepherd on the way up, working dog. “NED!”. Ned chasing sheep at 90 miles per hour. Me walking bike up mountain. Old man likes to walk up, and go down slow...see you at the bottom. Astonishing views. Met people on the way, and reconvened with them at the pub at the bottom. “Katie’s cottage”....Brendan and Sheila, retired couple, electric assist bikes, navy man, pipe smoker. Had to get back to Mallow and the Bridge house pub, to continue saving the world with his buddies. Kevin and Dierdre:. Young couple, both beautiful; she was pregnant (walked 5 miles over mountain pass!). He a perfectly fit young man; Gaelic football interest. We had questions about rules. Seems like a mix of rugby and soccer. She had dancing happy eyes...I embarrassed her a little by telling her I liked the smell of pregnant women. Oops. They walked dog...half pug half jack russell. “Minch”. He must've made a million steps on that hike. -Mark 1st full day of our break time which translates to biking with no gear/packs. Fossa, is just outside the town of Killarney with great bike access to Killarney Ntnl Park. Late start, no breakfast, snacked. Started around Killarney on a red bike lane along the main road & in <1/2 mile, a bike /walking path which wound through woods, past a meadow where we saw horseback riders & a golf course (lg bright pink blooming rhododendron which reminded me the azaleas at National Hills for The Masters in Augusta). Past the golf course we went through more fern floored woods & meadows with clumps of yellow irises, which we had seen all over Ireland. We arrived at Ross Castle, another tower home from the 15th century. It had been set to fire by the locals when they thought Cromwell was about to attack from the water in the mid 1600's. The story goes that there had been a prophesy from the druids that the castle would only fall if besieged from the lake side. Apparently Cromwell learned of the prophecy & that's just what he did. Large boats had never come up through the lake before, so when the locals saw Cromwell barges, they gave no real fight but burned the place leaving nothing to be taken. All of the informational displays we've seen have been so well done. This one was no exception. There was a replica of the house with cut outs to show various features. There was also a side window with a 3D replica depicting methods used to construct the house. There was a cute primitive painting showing life back then and you were to find the items that were out of place like a flip top trash can & sun glasses and you could find the myriad of cats (thought of Aunt Polly). One of the displays showed a band of barefoot Irish mercenaries & next to that was my favorite, a portrait of an English official in full royal blue regalia complete with military helmet and an Irish lance from the thighs up, but bare pale legs complete with blue veins, barefoot. This was Sir Thomas Lee from the late 1500's & it was noted that the English officials were concerned "that the servants of the crown would 'lapse into barbarism by adopting Gaelic ways" The house had then had various owners over the years, was re-purposed with the addition of barracks at one point but with disuse, began to crumble. The area was almost developed by several Americans who probably would have torn the castle down and built homes around the lake (those Americans!); but an Irishman American bought it back. He made a deal with the government that if they fully restored the castle, he would give it to them along with surrounding lands for free. With this motivation, the castle was restored over a 20 year period to as close to the original as they were able to accomplish & using many of the same building techniques. Our tour guide was excellent & I assume she was one of the historians or curators for the museum. She explained the various defensive features of the castle including several small rooms near the entrance where up to 2 dozen men would sleep in readiness for an attack. Just above the front entrance was access to an opening called the murder hole where rocks, hot water, or oil could be thrown onto intruders. Mark's favorite feature was the spiral staircase always revolving clockwise allowing the right handed defenders from above to have the spatial advantage. She told about the living conditions, damp, crowded & cold, but those lucky enough to be inside were protected from attack. There were furnishings from the times including some 16th century tapestries in immaculate condition, the carved back chairs with arm rests for the head of the household and a 10th century chest from Irish oak that seemed to be a prized possession for the museum. Each level up was considered more protected, so the Lord of the castle slept in the 2nd to the top floor. There was a curtained bed for the Lord & Lady & up to a dozen children & even guests would have slept on the floor there. The top floor with a high ceiling was the meeting area/judgment hall (where the Lord would preside over disputes)/dining room. This area had a side room for cooking & a balcony for the musicians and barbs of the day to provide entertainment. Those in the balcony were hidden behind the balcony wall. They were considered lower on the totem pole than the servants but are highly appreciated today for having passed down & developed the history, poetry, plays, music of the day. They ate off pewter since it was less expensive than silver but unfortunately this resulted in lead poisoning. Near the end of the tour, our guide asked for "the question" which Mark correctly asked - "where was the toilet". We were wound through an area with metal grates where material would fall the 5 stories down & that was then managed by a "farmer" who generated compost. The servants slept near this area & one could only hope for olfactory fatigue. After our tour we then had a late lunch back in Killarney at Murphys pub, scored some groceries, snacked at the Hostel & enjoyed our shut eye. The day was partly cloudy, mostly sunny. -Joyce We left Murphy's farmhouse after breakfast, some quick route discussion, and bike tuning. The day would be a short day to Killarney requiring about 15 miles.
Killarney is Ireland's largest nationally reserved park for public use. We knew a few details; the park is centered by 3 lakes which are encircled by woods, mountains, and historical sites with walking/biking routes winding throughout the park. For these reasons + we had been riding for 7 days straight, we chose to take our break there (experience taught me that within an 11 day period you need 3 days where you are not packing and toting your gear everyday - aka a break). But before we could break we had to ride our 15 miles through country side. We had hoped for a flat day but had to conquer 2 large hills. One long and gradual, the other short and steep. The hills are always worth the effort because they generally get us off the busy roads and offer the best views out onto Ireland. On top of our first hill we met an Irish postman who provided us with some route suggestions for the day. These postman are definitely the most qualified people to be providing anyone with back-road directions. We have later discovered how personal the mail service is in the countryside; there are few addresses so the service requires a knowledge of the people in your area/route. As a result, it seems postman are the most knowledgeable individuals of the areas we have been riding. Now that we know this, it will be a valuable tool if lost or unsure of our route...or to just have a chat with a friendly face that knows the area best. After the second monster hill of the day, we had a nice drop into the town of Fossa where we planned to stay at the Fossa Carvan and Camping Park. After reviewing the price to camp+electricity+shower vs. getting a bed in the all inclusive hostile, we chose the hostile as the more bang for the buck method. Especially as we would be there for 3 days and spending little time in the room except to sleep. Derry, the very friendly and helpful host, showed us the room and settled us in. We than had a conversation with a Irishman, Marty, who frequently visited the area in order to assist a cycling group in transporting all their bikes from Dublin. He gave us recommendations for the next few days as well as a suggestion for a pub to eat at. This pub/restaurant, the Golden Nugget, became our go to place for meals and to just relax after long day of riding (lending us some good tales later to come). With full bellies on good, cost effective food, we decided to save Killarney for the next morning, instead going back to the room to catch up on sleep. -Charlie Say goodbye to Dingle,
Oh dingle you cute little Atlantic soaked tourist trap, mountains at your back. The hostel full of hikers, bikers, campers; fun. We've made you sing a cheap song for us goodbye and thanks. Ireland is the opposite of India. Only a little construction but buildings hundreds of years old immaculately maintained. India, a beehive of construction but a 5 year old building is dirty and crumbling. On the way out of dingle we went to paddy's bike shop. It was a big as a large closet. I bought four esoteric items. He had them all and barely moved to get them for me. Cash from pocket perfect. The ride from Dingle to Inch Beach was a steady uphill on a major road, though the views were also steadily improving. The traffic was distracting. The people here are mostly very polite with cyclists but the tour buses are wider than the road i think. Exciting...no,. hair raising! Joyce is adapting well to biking here though she is sure we will die soon. Inch beach is the Daytona of the area. We met Sue who loved our bicycles. She said she never envied anyone their possessions but envied their experiences. She was lots of fun. I think she was from Britain and she married a big gruff, fun Irishman; friction on every level. Talking to them was a riot - everyone is a fountain of helpful knowledge. A tour bus full of Frenchmen came, so we left inch beach after a long and another cup of the famous seafood chowder (#7 for me). We wet our feet in crystal clear Atlantic ocean water, enjoyed dogs and babies and headed down the road again. The trip from inch to Murphy's farmhouse b&b was more of the same,. Slow steady climb on a relatively heavily traveled road. Not unpleasant, just traffic distraction. The b&b was a real working dairy farm. We put our bikes in their working cow building. It was much more elaborate than a barn. Charlie got a kiss from a big calf, just after he licked his own nostrils. Friends for life. He said the cow smelled like slightly fermented grass. We met three generations of female Murphy's at breakfast, all delightful. B&b type lodging seems to really suit the people here. Open your home to welcome new people, treat them like royalty with lots of interesting conversation, then on your way...roll wheels roll! -Mark! Biked into Dingle for provisions, enjoyed coffee & Bfast just outside a grocery which turned out to be a great place to see the ~200 racers come down the hill at 11:00 for the start of their race that day to Sneed. Back to the hostel to drop off food; then we got to do our 1st ride; with no packs. Yeah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
As an overview, we took a partial southern loop out Dingle Peninsula, following the sea coast initially. We stopped at Paidi O Se's (a famous GAA footballer) for a pint near the beginning of the ride. Nice pub with great statue of the Gaelic football player (posing with statues) & a small church across the side street (a common layout in these small communities, sometimes with the addition of a gas station). We had already stopped at Penny's Pottery, another posing like statues (or wall tiles) opportunity (Thanks to BJ for that idea!) Penny had a lovely shop, lots of wall tiles & blue pottery pieces including cups - we found most everyone's name. There were also wooden toys for sale. As we walked through the small cafe in the back, there was a lovely wooden porch looking over the back yard. Several chickens came up to visit or perhaps just look for crumbs. We saw a work area off to the side & met the woodworker. Mark especially enjoyed his tiny shop & appreciated a spinning device for quickly sanding each small toy. After Paidi's pub we stopped at the Celtic & Prehistoric Museum. Apparently an American ex-pat had collected antiquities for years & built this small museum. He had items from all over the world including a woolly mammoth skull & a full bear skeleton. I especially enjoyed the Celtic artifact room with many bronze age artifacts. Next was Dunbeg Promitory Fort. There was a stone Restaurant /Visitors center across the street where we saw a cool video that depicted what life might have been like in the 800's & gave us a detailed tour though the ruins. The site juts out into the Atlantic with 3 cliff edges & would have thus been easier to defend. Sadly, it is being eroded & was particularly damaged in a 2014 storm. A short distance further was the Beehive huts. Each of the historic sites had entrances to collect a small fee, manned by locals with a thick Gaelic accent. We were in a part of Ireland where Gaelic is still the primary language for some. The Beehive huts had similar construction to the fort but all were round - flat stones stacked on stones with no mortar which is built in to a lesser diameter up to where 1 capstone is placed on the top, thus the old fashion beehive shape. Most were ruins but the construction, especially of the entrances was fascinating. One had been rebuilt with a top & some had underground tunnels to connect them together. From there we continued the route along the coast with great views of the cliffs & Sleahead Peninsula & the Blasket Islands coming closer into view. The Blaskets are famous because of a small group of people that lived there, very isolated until they were removed to the mainland in the 1950s. There have been several books written by or about the residents who had maintained much of the Gaelic language, traditions & customs. The ride had another sweet spot as we took a hairpin curve through shallow flowing water over a cobblestone section of road. We stopped at Sleahead which had a large guarded white tent at the entrance- Starwars location according to the locals but filming may have just finished up, so no star sightings. We also could see the beach far below & a few remaining sunbathers enjoying the end of the day. From there we cut back inland & the old folks did some bike pushing but Charlie said our total elevation was even more than the Conner pass day! (no gear & it was many ups & downs, so a different experience). At the bottom of the hill was Paidi's Pub again & a plan for our second pint, however the kids were hovered around the bicycle investigating a slow leak probably from glass. We were so excited about no gear, we didn't even have a pump. The locals were helpful. No pump that worked, but they suggested a garage a short distance away. This was another opportunity for a unique experience. We knocked at the house next to the garage but there was no answer. However a fellow came around the corner and looked a bit shagrinned at our request - " first day with no bike pump and we get a flat" Charlie explained with a big smile. He took us back to his shop which was a thrill for the guys and of course he had an air pump and quickly accomplished the job. He accepted some quarters with a big smile and surmised if the pub might take a few. We quickly headed back to town. Joyce, not peddling fast enough at 1 point, was chased in circles by Boris the young but large puppy who was playing with his two young masters in their yard. She was pretty much done for the day after that, but Charlie and Skye went into town to get food and we settled down for a second sleep at the Rainbow Hostel. -Joyce Today we woke up at Finglas House, and Kathleen made us an Irish breakfast. Charlie and Joyce chose to have beans on toast this morning. For unknown reasons, my eyes have a blurry fuzz and I am struggling to focus my hearing. I think it might be from lack of sleep. My normal sleeping schedule back home usually gives me close to ten hours. Now I get about seven, but according to the group that's the average for an "adult." Regardless, I like my ten hours. With my groggy mind, I spilled orange juice all over Kathleen's linens that cover her breakfast table. I believe my blurry vision, lack of hearing, and the spilt orange juice to be an omen for a bad day.
The plan for today - tackling Connor/Conor Pass. A gap that reaches ~1,500 feet in elevation and is five kilometers from the start of the climb to the peak of the mountain (from the northern approach). At breakfast, Kathleen said she heard about a cycling race on the radio that would close Connor Pass from 1300 to 1500. The race An Post Rás, that began in 1953, has eight stages and the 185 cyclists cover 1,235 kilometers within eight days. In this race they have 25 climbs, three of which are listed as "category one" and Connor Pass is on this list as a category one. Category one climbs have a mix of the most challenging distance, grade percentage, elevation change, and highest elevation. Only one more level, HC climbs, are higher than category one. After breakfast, we went outside and put all of our gear on the bikes and began stretching. If the road to Conner Pass is closed by the time we get there we will go on a hike while we wait for it to open back up. We left the B&B and began our day. To get to the gap we rode on a country road that had several sheep farms. Since we have been here I have seen sheep, cows, and horses the most. One thing I notice about all the animals is how they are much happier here than in the USA. We have not been by one farm that has been over-run by too many animals, and they are all happy and healthy. It truly has been one of the most beautiful things about Ireland. We made it to the beginning of the pass before the roads were blocked off. **Side Note: The sheep have colorful paint marks, (orange, purple, blue, or red), on certain parts of their body that allow their owners to differentiate whose are whose. The sheep farmers do this because the animals will jump over the rock walls or fences to graze other parts of the grass. The climb was steep from the beginning, starting off with a six percent gradient. Charlie and I made it two kilometers, with the gear, before the first "granny stop." A granny stop is were you completely stop cycling to catch your breath before beginning again. If an individual decides to continue by walking their bike it does not give them enough of a break to come back down to equilibrium. This method was taught to me by, the marvelous, Erin Conners Bergfield. At this point, I could feel my heartbeat thumping in my ears, my chest pumping up and down, and the heat radiating off my body. As I leveled back down to normal, I appreciated the stream running next to me and the sheep running around freely. I splashed water onto my flushed face and started again to conquer this mountain pass. Thanks to the granny stop, on our second start I felt brand new. It was not long before the feeling of my heartbeat returned, and stopped - this time - after 1.5 kilometers. The farther up we went the closer we were to the cyclist fans, and though we were, CLEARLY, not apart of the race they were there waiting to cheer us on. It was great to hear the encouraging words from strangers such as "Don't stop peddling," "Great Job," and "Only one kilometer to go!" We started once more and made it one kilometer, and the hill was getting steeper and steeper. We only had 500 more meters left but decided to stop and watch the racers come up. This was my first experience with watching a live cycling race. The men were unbelievable, as they swiftly and effortlessly got to the very top. Several groups went by, all of which you could tell by their body shape and posture what kind of riders they were. The ones in the front of the race were lean and cycled up the mountain as if it was flat land. As the other groups passed, their calves got bigger and Charlie informed me that it was because they were good sprinters and not as good on the mountains. Cars followed behind with managers, team members, and mechanics of each team and also four to six bikes on top of the racks for back up. After the race ended, Charlie and I started towards the top of the mountain. The last sprint was the most challenging of all. One, because it was the steepest. Two, because our friend lactic acid had returned from us standing still to watch the race. We gave it our all and when we made it to the top my dreams came true....an ice cream truck, that was thankfully not a mirage, awaited our arrival. We parked our giant green monster and indulged in the best soft served ice cream, with chocolate Flake, I have ever had. Mostly because I had worked so hard for it and my body craved the calories. The ice cream disappeared before my eyes and we (Charlie, Mark, and I) started to climb the mountain to a higher view. At the top of our climb there was a cairn that was taller than Charlie. I previously had stuffed three green rocks into my jacket from the beach in Fenit. I was planning to carry them with me as gifts for others; at the moment it felt right to give each of us a rock to stack on top of this humongous cairn. The one that I placed on the very top is there for Kelsey Horton, one of my best friends from home that I miss very much! Now, we got back on our bikes and received the reward of plunging down the other side of the mountain. We reached up to around 60 kilometers per hour on the way down; it was glorious. Upon our arrival at the bottom - the Dingle Brewery, whose flagship beer is Tom Crean's, awaited us. This was not planned, but a pint or two each was definitively well deserved. We took thank you pictures for those who donated beers and searched for a place to stay. Our discovery once we arrived in Dingle, a tourist town where star wars is being filmed and right after the racing cyclists, everything was booked. Thankfully, we found Rainbow Hostel. Charlie and I camped outside on the grounds and Joyce and Mark had a private room inside. We went back into town for dinner and I will not say much about the restaurant because there is nothing good to mention. It was the least authentic meal I have had thus far. Today easily became my favorite day. I feel strong because I am achieving goals that a year ago I would of not even imagined doing. I also thought that today was not going to be enjoyable because of how my morning started, but today reminded me that you "don't cry over spilled milk" or in my case spilled O.J. -Skye Coasts are wonderful for there walks on the beach and splendid views of old lighthouses. They are not as ideal for camping near with increased exposure to the wind and cold. Even though our warmshowers host provided a yard sheltered with hedges, everyone slept cold. This had the greatest effect on the ladies as it caused them restless/less sleep.
Though there was some general discussion and complaint of the sleeplessness in the morning, everyone started their day in high spirits enjoying warm tea and scones provided by our hosts, Ed and Noirin. Warmed with tea and filled with sugar, we began our short day to the town of Camp located on the Dingle Peninsula. We planned a short day in order to be in better position to climb Connor Pass the next day. The cold night sleep, motivated the group to choose a B&B so we stopped and enjoyed some pints along with lunch at a pub a kilometer outside of Camp, where the owner assisted us in finding a B&B that was not booked. (This was the first time we had had issues finding vacancies, and the causes to this will be brought up in a later blog...we didn't know at this point of the story so neither do you :P). The B&B was named Finglas House and our host was Kathleen. I replaced my worn front brakes in preparation for the pass the next day along with some general brake tuning. Once settled in, we headed to Ashes Bar across the street. It was a lovely 200 year old 'dry stone' building which provided a wonderful northern view down rolling hills onto the lighthouse we had stayed near the night before. We stayed there for hours catching up on journaling, enjoying a meal, and sucking up the natural warmth from their wood lit hearth. With full bellies and warm hands we mosied back across the street to catch the Z's. -Charlie Daylight here is 5am to 10pm this time of year.
Up, Irish breakfast about 8 am. Thanks Noreen, our Ballybunion B&B hostess. 2 eggs over easy, two bland little Weiner things, two pieces of Canadian bacon, pudding (pork based round slice of sausage, very soft center), a grilled tomato, and a slice of dark red blood pudding. This has been a fairly constant breakfast at the BnBs. Got to turn your plasma yellow and cloudy. Next pack up all our stuff in the yellow Bob bag. I have learned to hate this bag and all our stuff because of the weight we have to drag around. Back bag, front bag, clothes impervious to weather, shoes to clip to pedals...we’re off. This day was glorious! Yesterday, hard climbs, day before, rain...today, perfect! We moved through mild emerald hill country, with small fields separated by low rock walls, mostly full of happy looking cows or sheep. In the near distance looming majestic mountains. The smell of life everywhere. Idyllic. Almost no traffic. We stopped at the ruin of a huge ancient cathedral, with an attached museum. This place had its beginnings in the 10th century, with a ring stockade structure. When rehabilitating the cathedral they removed 2000 skeletons. Everybody wanted to be buried there. The guy at the counter was full of information and fun. Serendipity has followed us this trip. We have accidentally seen some of the more historically important sights. This cathedral was just such a place. It was called Ardfert Cathedral. We completed our journey for the day at Ed and Noreen's residence in Fenit. They participate in “warm showers”, which is a loose association of bicycle enthusiasts who will welcome bicycle travelers onto their property to spend the night with access to facilities. I have met some very interesting individuals this way and Ed and Noreen fit perfectly in the list. Thanks. We woke up to views of the ocean and a lighthouse. Mark |