The Midlands of Ireland Bike Trip

The plans were made....the boys rolled up to my house around 7:15 on Friday night. The sound of Kevin’s booming Harley echoed round the street. We were heading down south on a proper bike trip, the intention being to explore some of the sights on our own back yard and to drink in the evenings. A good plan! By the time we left my house, it was around 9:00pm. The destination was Drogheda. Alas the road down was mainly motorway or N roads (National roads), so it was somewhat uninteresting. But it was my first time riding in a “pack” and new experience was a good one. We arrived in Drogheda and headed straight for Newlodge Hostel (within a stone’s throw of Newgrange Neolithic site). 

Four bottles of rough red wine, drunk between the three people that were drinking made for a sound sleep! The craic was good. The next day we went straight to the visitor centre and picked tickets for Knowth....part of the Newgrange complex, although all the staff were so keen to help us, when we tried to push our luck by asking if we could leave our jackets with the helmets behind the desk, a stern woman came out and took over from the front of house staff "We can take your helmets lads...but you'll not be leaving your jackets here...okay" Jokes were made that she was prepared to accept our helmets without jackets! Knowth is not as famous, but actually larger and more impressive. We wondered round the site, taking in the panoramic views (you can see the Wicklow mountains) as well as absorbing all the information on the site itself.

We entered the mound and immediately plunged into a falsely lit passage that carried on into the centre of the mound, if my archaeology days serve me correctly, where a tomb chamber is situated. I’ve always enjoyed taking in my surroundings, and have never enjoyed being part of a tour of places like this, and I think most, if not all, of the lads are the same, so it wasn’t long before we were off doing our own thing. I’ve always enjoyed taking in my surroundings, and have never enjoyed being part of a tour of places like this, and I think most, if not all, of the lads are the same, so it wasn’t long before we were off doing our own thing. We arrived back at the car park, and then the rigmarole of putting all the gear back on began. The thing about biking in Ireland is that you have to be prepared for all four seasons in one day! We left the site with only a vague idea of where we were going...nothing was booked for that evening and there is a sense of apprehension about that, but mainly an overriding feeling of utter freedom. You are limited only by your imagination and that, for me anyway, meant I could simply enjoy and “be” on the roads. We did, however, make a conscious decision to keep off the main roads, preferring to stick to the minor roads that are much more fun to ride.

Pack Riding
The frequent sun-showers did not bother me though....if things got too cold, I simply turned on the heated grips, something that always lifts your spirits. We pulled in at anything that looked interesting, and stopped for lunch in Navan. It never fails to make me laugh when you pull into somewhere like that, everyone staring at you with a mixture of curiosity, amazement, awe and maybe even a little fear. You can see on some people's faces the desire that they were doing what we were doing. It was only when we stopped that we collectively realised just how hungry we were and a slap up feed was the order of the day. Interestingly, two female waitresses kept eyeing each other up, and whether they were in a relationship or not, I don't know, but soon we noticed how they kept touching each other - clearly thinking they were being discrete, we laughed, but had to hit the road again.

We were taking turns leading the pack - something I had never done before, but we ride in a offset pattern, I was told that this meant that the leader could look back and see everyone, but also meant that if something happened, the others could easily avoid any incident. Sensible, as if you ride in a straight line, you'd trip over each other in an instant! The smaller roads were great, tight, twisting bends that I felt able to throw the big Triumph into, despite slightly greasy roads. The decision was made to head to Sligo - a town several people had been out into and we were informed was a good bet. We arrived in Boyle on our way there, stopping off at the abbey to see if we could ring ahead to get accommodation. It's quite a site - although later interfered with to house a garrison, the remains still make you take in a deep breath. The road to Sligo was enjoyable - the sound of Kevin's big V-Twin booming in my ears. 

We got picked up and went straight to the B&B for a shower and to get into something more casual, before heading into the town itself for an Indian. Sinking Tiger beers with the meal before heading to Kennedy's pub on the river front were I switched to Corona. I slept that night like a baby.

The final day we had always planned to go to Carrickmacross megalithic complex - a burial / ritual site that is vast in scale. We were to then make a trip across to see W.B Yates' grave. The site of Yates' grave is quaint, situated within an early monastic site founded in 547AD. But recently they have changed his headstone for something more modern. Why? God only knows! Still....there we were, and I am glad we stopped to look at it - the idea of stopping at a graveyard was initially something I wasn't too keen on! We continued towards Donegal where there were plenty more bikers on the roads. There is a thrill in each person overtaking the cars, twisting the throttle and feeling that instantaneous bolt of torque and power that means you can sweep past cars with ease, the boy racers looking on in jealousy in their lowered, modified Honda Civics and the like. The towns were quite busy, which surprised me for a Sunday. We rolled into Donegal Town and pulled into the square, heads instantly turning to see what was coming. The main aim was to have a coffee before heading through the Blue Stack Mountains, back towards Lifford. The mountain run is phenomenal, the road surfaces are smooth and flat, cut through gorges and beside lakes and rivers, themselves dotted with crannogs. The bends are sweeping meaning you can really keep on the throttle, perhaps just dropping from 6th to 5th gear before you enter them.

Although I got soaked through to the bone on my way home on Sunday night, it was an enjoyable weekend, and one I'll definitely do again!