I had picked the bike up from BMC Bikes earlier in the day after a raft of work including new Tourance Tyres, a new shock, fluids and filter changes etc. My God he had worked his magic….after I had ‘scrubbed’ off the film on the tyres, they noticeably bit into the tarmac, sending a shudder down the bike as they did (more so the rear). We packed the panniers, and donned our gear. I had that butterfly feeling in my stomach, as not only was I excited about the upcoming weekend, it was the first time I had ever ridden the bike fully loaded, with panniers, top box, tank bag and pillion. As I tentatively pulled out on the road to Comber, the cross winds caught the bike a few times, making it feel skittish and top heavy. I didn’t like the feeling and I was only blinking once every few minutes as my concentration was so high. We commenced the trip on the back roads to Downpatrick, a route we had taken to Inch Abbey only a week or two ago. But on the open stretches I was struggling to come to terms with the handling characteristics of the fully laden bike.
The sun was out at this stage though, which helped, I would not have liked to have been doing his in the wet! Just outside Downpatrick, I noticed two adventure style bikes (a 1200GS and a V-Strom) and pulled alongside them – “are you going to Meelmore” was the question I was asked. I certainly was, and I was glad of some companions on the road. We pulled over for a quick smoke, and Ian and Derek were chatting away. We duly pulled off with Ian and Derek in the lead, and I noticed that at breaks in the tree line on the roadside, both their bikes ahead appeared to swerve, then I felt it….I was happier now as I had an indication of cross winds ahead of me, and it also did my confidence no harm to know that it was affecting others too!
We arrived down in the gorgeous setting of Meelmore with the Mournes in the background and Tullymore Forest behind us. The top field was where the bikes were put. A plethora of GS BMW’s with a spattering of KTM’s and Triumphs greeted me….which was nice! Friday was spent getting our room in order (we were staying in the lodge) and wandering about. No-one really knew anyone else, so conversation was a bit light, but then it’s always like that when that is the situation.
Saturday, however, was a different story. We had opted for Loudpedal’s Mournes run….rather than the longer North Coast run. The weather wasn’t great to start off with, but it was clearing. We were the only two-up riders. And as we pulled out of Meelmore, turning left towards the Mournes I had slight apprehension. We travelled up single lane roads with stunning views all around, those shades of dark dark green to browns that are so characteristic of the Celtic mountain regions. The air was crisp and smelt fresh, if that makes sense, as it rushed into the slightly open visor, but it was certainly waking me up and keeping me alert. The roads morphed into more green lane in nature, but I was glad of the new shock and tyres, the big Tiger handled it well. We climbed steeply up a road with a grass middle and loose stones, occasionally the rear end would twitch to register its dissatisfaction with the whole scenario, but she behaved herself magnificently. I was slightly worried that I was maybe holding people up, but I was pleased with my pace. We took a steep descent to Rostrevor and Carlingford Lough, just as the sun decided it had hidden behind the clouds for long enough. We pulled over and the chatter began everyone more comfortable in each other’s company now…..bikes and riding them having smashed, rather than broken the ice. As we took in the view, I mentioned that this was my first time riding on those types of roads, let alone with a pillion, and that it was Nicola’s 4th time ever on the bike. My confidence (and ego) got a boost from everyone as they said that was impressive.
Our next destination was the coastal route to Greencastle, the winds becoming exceptionally strong by the coast, but I had become accustomed to their effects being able to compensate without doing it overly so, and Nicola was enjoying herself too…iPod playing whatever music she felt appropriate, and that in turn relaxed me too. We continued along the coastal route to Killough and St. John’s Point….the lighthouse looming over you as you pull up of the roads leading up to it (more gravelly lanes), but an impressive sight – the sea here is a turquoise that you would associate with more exotic climbs, but set against the rolling drumlin and grassy backdrop, simply stunning. We sat there and discussed the more 'green lane[y]' roads; I had also taken a wrong turn on one of them, having lost the leading group....but these things happen, and no longer bother me anymore. I am (now) forever saying that every road leads to somewhere, so follow it....what's the worst that could happen?! In Greencastle though, I got the impression that it is a town that was once buzzing with maritime activity, now faded. Across the Lough you can see cranes on a dockside that stood unmoving. We have, as a species, been guilty of placing ugly things on top of stunning locations, and although that might be a bit harsh to describe this pit stop, there was that distinct vibe.
We were next off along the Co. Down coast to Strangford Lough and Strangford town - surely one of the most picturesque places on Earth (and I'm not exaggerating!). We appeared to fly towards the Lough via Dundrum, with its spectacular medieval castle standing guard over the settlement on the hilltop above the town. It was only when we were driving through it that I realised that we were in Ardglass. I had excavated here when doing my undergrad degree, at Jordan's Castle and the medieval warehouse site now in the golf club. Ardglass was, in its heyday, an exceptionally important port settlement in medieval Ulster and the town is strewn with upstanding stone monuments to its grandeur. Symbols of prosperity now faded. The sun was out, and I had need of the helmet sun visor, but I was in that zone where you almost become one with the machinery, a sensation (when it happens) I very much enjoy. We arrived in Strangford and pulled up beside the ferry loading point. Quaint medieval towerhouse remains, alongside the medieval slipway, marked by vertically aligned stone lining sit easily beside townhouses and cottages that give this place its charm. Apparently Oliver Reid used to drink in the Strangford Arms when he was in Ireland as everyone left him alone. A hellraiser he was, but clearly his privacy he demanded. The water was a blue that matched the sky above it, and I wished we could have called into eat fresh mussels with something refreshing to wash them down with. We were now on the homeward leg, the route back to Meelmore encompassing Clough, and Castlewellan onto Newcastle. The sound of the big KTM in front for some of the journey almost deafened me, but I liked it, as I was able to know when to throttle on before I had turned the corner.
When we returned to the Meelmore, we got changed and went into Newcastle, to O'Hare's to get something to eat. There is a large open fire, and the floors are, I think, stone flagged, together with the high ceilings it gives the pub a charm of its own, especially as it fronts onto the beach and the views of the mountains stretching down to the coast are spectacular. The Mournes kind of loom over Newcastle, but in a good way, like giant protectors somehow. We arrived back at the site to pitch darkness, and only now was I truely getting my bearings from Bryansford to Meelmore, the stars clearly visible above. Looking at them reminded me of my time camping in Tullymore for my Duke of Edinburgh Award. I distinctly remember that I had never seen so many stars, and it was at that time, all those years ago, I first witnessed a shooting star. So we decided to light a fire - "light it and they will come" Ian said. And he was right! We scavenged what wood we could find, but it was more than enough to have a roaring fire. Before you knew what was happening, potchin, beers, vodka were all broken out and the craic was, as they say, ninety!It's funny how a fire - something so elemental - brings people together. We are drawn to it! The laughter, I'm sure. kept other non biker related campers up, but if you don't like te sound of laughter, then there's something wrong with you in my opinion.
I have to say, that I enjoyed the weekend, and I enjoyed having Nicola as pillion. Her enthusiasm for biking isn't (as I think it initially was) to placate me and take part in my hobby. It is genuine, when I lean down so she can see the road ahead she wants to be on a bike, solo, controlling it, feeling the lean into the corners. I like taking my left hand of the bars on a straight piece of road, reaching back and resting my hand on her knee....she usually gives me a squeeze for good measure. I think we will have many more biking trips.....perhaps further afield and on to a European destination! I have had friends who have gone (two up) to France, Spain and further afield. And I love Spain and Italy, so it would seem to make sense to try and do a road trip to one (or both) of those destinations! Trae en el viaje por carretera!
