Summer Solstice Bike Trip

The Summer Solstice has long been a target of mine for a bike trip away as it holds in my psyche some romanticism and mysticism, I think the idea that I can say, years from now, that I went away on a motorbike trip to sites across Ireland to feel the vibe of the whole event is one that I wanted to fulfil. The reality is, however, that many of the hippies and mystics that flock to various sites do so in error; e.g., Newgrange (like Stonehenge) is aligned for the winter solstice, not the summer and the Mound of Hostages at the Hill of Tara with the midpoints between vernal and autumnal equinox). But does it really matter? Well, for me the trip was more about an experience rather than mythological or archaeological accuracy (alas those days are behind me now and it having been a decade since I was last a professional archaeologist, I doubt I ever will be again).

We left Belfast as a trio on a variety of bikes, an ex-police BMW R80RT, a BMW R100 (GS/RT) and my Triumph Tiger (now complete with a Blue Flame carbon fibre dual port exhaust that gave a lovely throaty [and loud] burble). We were leaving late, around 8:30pm, but with the longest day approaching it was staying light until very late – the sun even refusing to go down completely. Given the time, the run down would be a swift one on main roads, but they were agreeably empty. As we approached the new motorway ring road around Newry, the mountains rise from the landscape to semi-enclose you, Slieve Gullion on the right before the road cuts through Drumad Wood[s]. As we continued on the motorway towards Dundalk, the sun was attempting (and failing) to set to our right. The sky was hypnotic with shades of purple, a long colourful streak in my peripheral vision. Our destination was one we had been to before; Newgrange Lodge. In Drogheda we stopped for a milkshake, remarking that now there was a motorway all the way to Dublin, the town had regained some of its quaintness. Meath prides itself on being the heritage capital of Ireland, and I suppose in a way it is, there is literally a mound or monument almost everywhere! The most famous is, of course, the Boyne Valley Complex (Brú na Bóinne) which is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. As we left the main town on the Staleen Road towards Donore the road lighting ceased, our headlights illuminating the hedge and tree-lined road that was tunnel-like in the night. I have to say, I really enjoy riding in low light conditions like these, although on a summer evening even more so as the blossoms are still fragrant after the day’s hot sunshine and with the low light other senses are heightened. We pulled into the Lodge grounds and the familiar surrounds from the last trip provided a sense of continuity from then. There were a group of Americans archaeology and anthropology students there travelling round Ireland on a coach (not exactly the ideal way to see the country). At first the craic was good, but soon the tiredness from the motorways caught up with me.

Newgrange Lodge

Oddly, the guy on the lodge’s nightshift approached two of us to inform us of a rather strange occurrence. He claimed that a very large man, a biker, had arrived approximately an hour before we had asking if three bikers had arrived. He replied that none had and enquired whether he knew the names of them – this biker didn’t nor did he leave his name, he simply left. Even more bizarrely, the clerk couldn’t remember what this guy looked like but was genuinely perturbed and almost scared when recanting the tale. It all seemed rather strange and given the mythological location comparisons with Slendermen etc were drawn and even now, the event is somewhat unsettling.

From the lodge, the white walls of Newgrange are clearly visible. Sí an Bhrú was originally built between c.3200 and 3100 BC, meaning that it is approximately 5,000 years old. According to C14 dates it is about five hundred years older than the current form of Stonehenge, and the Great Pyramid of Giza in Egypt, as well as predating the Mycenaean culture of ancient Greece. Newgrange contains various examples of abstract Neolithic rock art and once a year, at the winter solstice, the rising sun shines directly along the long passage, illuminating the inner chamber and revealing the carvings inside, notably the triple spiral on the front wall of the chamber. Excavations revealed deposits of both burnt and unburnt human bone in the passage, indicating human corpses were indeed placed within it, some of which had been cremated. During much of the Neolithic period, Newgrange continued as a focus of some ceremonial activity. New monuments added to the site included a timber circle to the south-east of the main mound and a smaller timber circle to the west. During the Late Neolithic, it appears that Newgrange was no longer being used by the local population, who did not leave any artefacts in the passage tomb or bury any of their dead there. Archaeologist Michael O'Kelly stated “…by 2000BC Newgrange was in decay and squatters were living around its collapsing edge.” These "squatters" were adherents of the Beaker Culture.

Hill of Tara (Cnoc na Teamhrach, Teamhair na Rí)

We left behind the Brú na Bóinne to travel southwards towards another ancient site, the Hill of Tara (Cnoc na Teamhrach, Teamhair na Rí). The ride down was on single large roads, although we stopped in the way out of Drogheda for a coffee, the strong summer sun burning the top of my head. It was here that I was able to take some excess coolant out of the header tank with the help of a catheter syringe, a straw and Kiv’s (three things I hope never to mention in the same sentence again!). The trees lining the roads provided periods of welcome relief from the sunshine, with my back armour on my t-shirt was starting to stick to me. We turned off for Tara to be greeted by a more frenetic scene. Tara had events planned over the summer solstice (although as I mentioned above it is something of a misnomer as it wasn’t used for the longest day), so it was busier with campers, tents and makeshift shelters. Although one shelter had a small pot-bellied stove and the turf he was burning was exceptionally acrid. The whole complex is over a large scale, 

At the summit of the hill is the Iron Age hilltop enclosure enclosed by an internal ditch and external bank, known as Ráith na Ríogh (the Fort of the Kings). The most prominent earthworks within are the two linked enclosures, a double-ditched ring fort and a bivallate ring barrow known as Teach Chormaic (Cormac's House) and the Forradh (Royal Seat). In the middle of the Forradh is a standing stone, the Lia Fáil (Stone of Destiny). According to legend the stone would scream if a series of challenges were met by the would-be king. To the north is a small Neolithic passage tomb known as Dumha na nGiall (the Mound of the Hostages), which was constructed around 3400BC. Outside the bounds of the Ráith na Rig, is a ringfort with three banks known as Ráith na Seanadh (the Rath of the Synods). 

Farther north is a long, narrow rectangular feature known as the Banqueting Hall (Teach Miodhchuarta), although it is more likely to have been a ceremonial avenue and three circular earthworks known as the Sloping Trenches and Gráinne's Fort. To the south of the Royal Enclosure lies a ring-fort known as Ráith Laoghaire (Laoghaire's Fort), where the eponymous king is said to have been buried in an upright position. Half a mile south of the Hill of Tara is another hill fort known as Rath Maeve, the fort of either the legendary queen Medb, who is more usually associated with Connacht, or the less well known legendary figure of Medb Lethderg, who is associated with Tara.

Aerial images of the Hill of Tara complex

The Hill of Tara is documented in the 11th-century text Lebor Gabála Érenn as the seat of the high-kings of Ireland from the times of the mythological Fir Bolg and Tuatha Dé Danann. The Hill of Tara has been in use by people from the Neolithic era, although it is not known if Tara was continuously used as a sacred and/or a political centre from the Neolithic period to the 1100s AD.The central part of the site could not have housed a large permanent retinue, implying that it was instead used for occasional meetings. There were no large defensive structures. Earliest extant written records show that high kings were inaugurated there, and the "Seanchas Mor" legal text (written some time after 600AD) specified that the king must drink ale and symbolically marry the goddess Medb (Maeve) in order to qualify for high kingship. We all lay on the banks of the Ráith na Ríogh eventually drifted off for 45 minutes, a much needed power nap! There was something of a buzz about the place, people were milling around and a cool bottle of water was consumed in moments, all the time a Druid from Kilkenny was attempting to educate us on Druidism and informing us that St. Canice’s Cathedral in Kilkenny (my Bishop Uncle’s former home church) was built on top of a mound that was a pre-existing Druid site. Whether this is true or not I don’t know, but there was no doubting the strength of his conviction. He was something of an eccentric, spilling tea all down himself as he talked with his twitchy movements made worse by the passion he had for the subject he was speaking about.

We were soon back on the road again, perhaps staying later in Tara than we should have, but there was no immediate rush. The roads were familiar and I think we had been on them the last time we had travelled across the midlands of Ireland (July 2012). I remembered a section of road had glorious twists and turns (I think towards Mullingar) and sure enough it didn't disappoint. The sun was high in the sky, and the heat was, at times, stifling although riding with my visor up provided enough breeze and cool air to regulate my temperature. As I twisted the throttle, the noise from the new exhaust was nothing short of glorious. 

Carrowkeel (An Cheathrú Chaol)

The roads towards Carrowkeel were not busy, and there was the distinct impression that the sun had started to lower. As we approached the turnoff for Carrowkeel, I realised that I had confused the site with Carrowmore (also in Sligo – and the site we had visited last time). The road soon turned to a narrow laneway with broken tarmac, winding its way up quite a steep gradient. This then became even narrower with a grass verge in the middle of the road and my legs clipping the longer grass that had drooped into road’s passage. The slopes rose almost vertically on each side enclosing us in. We passed a small collection of people, all here for the summer solstice. The track soon became a stoney gravelly lane thankfully dried from the week’s worth of good sunshine. We all took it slowly, the sharp rocks a genuine danger to the tyres, but despite this it was exceptionally enjoyable. We rose up blind crests until we came to the base of the heater covered final ascent towards the fourteen cairns that make up the Carrowkeel complex. Billy was waiting for us there, the views were what I can only describe as breathtaking, and on this summer day (of all days) there was a genuine majestic and mythic feeling to the place.

View from Carrowkeel

Carrowkeel is a Neolithic passage tomb cemetery it’s name: An Cheathrú Chaol means 'the Narrow Quarter'. C14 dating places the tombs at between 5400 and 5100 years old (3400 to 3100 BC), so that they predate the Pyramids on Egypt's Giza plateau by 500-800 years. An Cheathrú Chaol is one of the big four passage tomb cemeteries in Ireland, set on high ground above Lough Arrow, and the tombs seem to be oriented towards the area of Cuil Irra, Knocknarea and Carrowmore. There are fourteen passage tombs in Carrowkeel. Some can be entered by crawling through a narrow passage. Six more passage tombs are located close by in the Keshcorran complex. A particular type of crude pottery found in passage tombs has been titled Carrowkeel Ware, having first been recorded in the Carrowkeel Monuments. Close to Lough Arrow and just north of Carrowkeel is another, apparently related, giant passage tomb, Heapstown Cairn. This is part of the legendary Moytura, site of battles between the Tuatha Dé Danann, the ancient gods of Ireland, and the demonic Fomorians. The mountain range containing Carrowkeel is called the Bricklieve Mountains (Breac Sliabh), meaning ‘the speckled mountains’ a possible reference to their appearance when more quartz rock survived on the outside of the cairns, causing them to sparkle in the sun. One can only imagine how these would have looked when first constructed....maybe white (like Newgrange) a beacon for miles around.

Lightbox in Cairn G

As we explored the cairns and the passages it was, simply, a marvel. The sun was high and the inside of each of the passages cool, but their scale was awe-inspiring. How they got all the stones up there, the lintels so precisely lain....it really makes you think. From the summit, there are panoramic views all around and other sites (Medbh's Grave for example) are clearly visible and you get a sense of just how complex the Neolithic landscape was. These monuments were not here in isolation or even as a small grouping, they were part of an exceptionally large ritual and religious landscape across many miles. The engineering is also breathtaking, bearing in mind the simplicity of tools that they would have used, the corbelling is akin to that at Maeshowe in the Orkney Islands. Although not all can be entered, the major cairns can and I believe one of these is aligned with the summer solstice (although I wait to be corrected!). Some have decayed badly, maybe from people clambering over them, maybe from weathering from their high and exposed position (probably a little of both) but their resonance remains as strong as ever, particularly for me.

All too soon we had to make the descent again down the trackways that I was, frankly, glad were over and I hadn't dropped the bike! Dee was staying atop the mountain with Billy and Kivi and I had yet to book anywhere - by the time we were leaving it had passed 9:00pm. On a rest stop by the side of the road we managed to book a hostel room in Strandhill (a surfing community on the west cost). As time was creeping on this was a thankful stroke of luck. Kivi had stayed before recommending an Italian place to eat on the main street - a good call as the stone baked pizza was welcome sustenance. The ride home on Sunday was via Derry and the mountains outside Donegal never fail to amaze me. The road appears to pierce through the peaks, sometime with a lough on one side, twisting and turning they are a genuine joy on a bike. All too quickly though the weekend was over. 

Summer Solstice - The Road to Carrowkeel (Videologue)

Tenerife Diving - The Bliss of the Big Blue

ABR Ireland Rally 2014

The weekend approached with a sense of anticipation, the weather was to be good (which is always a plus) and the Mournes area, on a nice day, is one of the most breathtaking landscapes you will see. We duly packed the panniers, topbox and tank bag with our packing more refined and light weight compared to the ABR Ireland Rally 2013. Travelling light, I think, is key to enjoying your journey but particularly apt for a motorbike journey. I cranked the suspension preload up as well as the damping two clicks to accommodate the pillion and panniers. We were off....taking the Saintfield to Downpatrick to Newcastle route. Once through Downpatrick, the roads are single lane “A” roads that are a thrill. We were also trying out pillion to rider communications for the first time and it was great to be able to chat as I drove; pointing out landmarks and wildlife. The Mournes came into view as we approached Dundrum, rising majestically in the landscape with a hint of mist over the taller peaks – the sunlight attempting to shine through it in shafts. We cut through Tullymore Forest park (mainly because I had forgotten the way to Meelmore Lodge). As we entered through a grey mock Medieval gateway, the trees that lined the road were stunning, I felt as though I was in Jurassic Park rather than an Irish planted forest park. Having said that, you could see the planted spruce further up the hills, but whoever thought of these trees for the roadway were geniuses. We stopped at the Ranger’s lodge and asked directions, he was a biker too and gave simple “turn left then second left” instructions that enabled me to find the campsite with no hiccups at all.

Meelmore Lodge

Since we were last there, Meelmore has had a spruce up – the main building painted and all the grass areas mown with those pleasing stripes that makes just sitting on the grass an inviting prospect. A few tents were scattered about the ABR plot and Heff and Flintock were there to greet us. We were staying in the lodge, getting the same room we did last year – there is something about your own hot shower in the morning[s] that is a comfort I like to maintain wherever possible. A few more bikes arrived, but the numbers were, at this stage, nothing to write home about. Watches were looked at, a bit of craic had, and then watches looked at again. Hunger was beginning to set in; fish and chips in Annalong were to be the dish of the day and at that moment, I couldn’t have asked for anything else!

We set off from Meelmore turning left onto the Trassy Road that became the Slievenaman Road, a single track of tarmac that twists and turns with the undulations of the landscape enabling you to throw the bike into the corners. On your left, shimmering in the evening sunlight, is Fofanny Dam Reservoir the road hugging the ‘shore’ line as it carves its path on the saddle between two mountains. As we continued on this road (which becomes the Moyad Road) Spelga Dam is on the right. The brown/green hues of the grasses and heathers on the mountain sides has a golden glow in the evening light, a sight to behold.

As we approached the coast from the mountains, dry stone walls delineate the fields, they are, though, a work of art in themselves beautifully created and even more exquisitely executed. We gorged ourselves on the much needed stoge the chippy had to offer, meeting up with more ABR’ers there. The return to the campsite was along the main roads, I think most keen to get a relatively early night ahead of the big run the next day. But on our return and into the early evening and darkness, more and more bikes arrived until there were 25 or 30 bikes parked at the site. A good turnout indeed! But something of a relief to find that more people had turned up to join the fun! 

The next morning started off with a fry-up breakfast, fuel (I justified to myself) for the day ahead. The main run was to take in both sides of Strangford Lough including the entire peninsula, a beautiful drive with some great roads if the traffic is clear, and as the sun had already started to get hot we all set of at 09:30. The first part of the ride was somewhat uneventful, heading towards Ballynahinch then Saintfield and Comber – basically on main roads to get us to the Lough where the run would begin proper. In Comber the traffic was at a standstill and I could feel the bike engine overheating without any movement. I flipped my visor up to try and get more fresh air, but this was an optimistic hope rather than a practical reality! We stopped in Donaghadee for a breather on the east coast of the Newtownards Peninsula ‘arm’ – the harbour waters were an assault on the senses shimmering against the blue sky, your eyes squinting in the light. I took off my back armour as it was starting to cook my back, sipping water and smoking a cigarette in the fast approaching midday sun.

We were soon off though, hugging the coast line and coast roads to Ballywalter and Ballyhalbert. The fresh and relieving cool sea air blew up onto the road from the Irish Sea as we travelled on single lane “A” roads punctuated with tree lined tunnels that eased the glare. Small coves and deserted sandy beaches came into view, not a single person availing of the turquoise blue waters and still hot day, although along the roadside there were occasionally people walking their dogs or men on bicycles dressed in wincingly tight lycra. We pulled in just outside Ballyhalbert in a car park beside one of the deserted coves. Another chance to catch ones breath. Having driven these roads many times in the past, I knew that from here on they were a genuine thrill, the surface (in the main) good with the roads sweeping curves, flat out sections as well as undulation changes a joy when riding a bike - or even in a car for that matter - they didn't disappoint - my tyres were biting into the surface and the heat of the day only served to increase the grip, a shudder through the rear end any time I applied the throttle as the Tourance obtained grip the bike almost putting down more torque than the tyre could cope with. The sea air continued to fill my nostrils, augmented by the coconut smell of the yellow blossoms of gorse bushes that seem to spring up on any wild land here, on this southern tip of the peninsula the roads were agreeably empty - a sharp contrast to the journey to get to the coast road, but a welcome reversal. We neared Cloughy and turned left from Main Street onto the Manse Road - something of a back road, this narrowed and had some loose stones in parts, but was slightly more challenging, but subsequently more rewarding for it. 


The South Ards Peninsula 
The Manse Road became the Ardminnan Road lined by traditional field boundary hedgerows that screened the fields behind. Birds occasionally darted out and then back on themselves as they either saw or sensed the bike coming. The hedgerows served to make many of the corners blind which added to the sense of excitement - the advantage of being in a pack is being able to see what the people in front are doing (their line and speed into the corner) so if I was unsure I was able to copy them. The destination was the Ballyquintin Road and a sudden turn off to the left over a cattle grid that is the entrance to Temple Cooey/Templecowey holy wells / church site. 

I have found it recorded and spelt both ways so either, I think, is acceptable. The site is believed to have been founded in the 7th century by Saint Cowey; according to tradition it was here that Saint Cowey performed his penitential exercises in the late 7th and early 8th centuries. The foundations of a church are supposedly where a small modern alter is located with the archaeological survey recording the site consisting of the foundations of a small church, several rows of stones and three holy wells. It has long been associated with St. Cowey with the site now a place of pilgrimage. The church foundations stand 0.4 -0.8m high & measure 5m N-S x 15.6m E-W internally with entrances in the north and south walls. Each well is labelled - the south one "wash", the middle one "eyes" & the north "drink". So we all stooped down to take a sip at the drinking section of the holy wells – it can’t do any harm! We followed the Ballyquintin Road round to the tip of the peninsula onto the Bar Hall Road for the short drive to Portaferry. Portaferry was heaving with a Viking Festival well underway. We parked among the trees just beneath the ruins of an old church: Templecraney. The church is contained within a roughly circular enclosure and is reported to be the site of a Medieval church. The place name evidence also suggests something older. 

The first element is teampall “church”, not used before the second millennium. The most likely second element in a church name is a saint’s name, but the most similar personal name here is a Crónán who was abbot of Bangor d. 668. Teampall Crannaí “church of the stake-fence”? from Crannach “wooden, something made of wood” (Muhr, 2004). We stopped to get a hot dog and soak up some of the atmosphere, the sun was clearly stronger than I thought - combined with the wind burn my face and head were starting to feel cooked! After a dander round the archery and other events, I saw a patch of grass that was located under some tall trees, the sun only peeping through - it looked exceptionally inviting and so I lay down in the shade and struggled to keep my eyes open. At that moment, I was perfectly relaxed almost in something of a Zen state. Those sorts of moments are good for the soul! Leaving the site in our cavalcade caused quite a few looks, especially from boys pointing at the bikes and smiling - a friendly wave to them the only cost.

We took the glorious Rowreagh Road towards Kircubbin, once out of Portaferry this road hugs the eastern shore of Strangford Lough, with sites dotted along the route; the Abbacy absorbed into a more modern house, Castle Hill motte and later towerhouse with associated Medieval church....but none of these were stops, we were heading straight up the coast towards Newtownards / Comber to head down the western shore of Strangford. For me, the western side has a different vibe to the eastern peninsula arm, I can't quite explain it, but it feels somehow more sedate and peaceful. Once out of the Comber traffic we turned onto the Ballydrain Road towards Mahee Island and Nendrum Monastic Site.

The road to Mahee Island is single lane with blind crests and corners, the hedgerow gaps occasionally giving glimpses to the blue waters of the Lough. At this stage the group was somewhat strung out due to traffic lights outside Newtownards. But it didn’t matter, I had been down this road many times and it is one I continue to return to and will no doubt in the future. You cross a causeway over the Lough that takes you onto Mahee Island itself, beware of cars coming round the blind corners though! A further causeway guarded by the 15^th/16^th century Mahee Castle leads you to the tranquillity of Nendrum, perched on top of a hill that gives superb views in all directions, the Lough here sheltered and flat calm. The monastery is said to have been founded in the 5^th century by St. Mochaoi and its abbots & bishops are recorded in the annals from the 7^th - 9^th centuries, in 987 the annals record that it was burned in a Viking raid. The site now consists of the ruins of a church, round tower, enclosures, buildings, graves, carved stones and a rare pre-Norman sundial. The site is surrounded by three concentric cashel enclosures. There are many burials within the inner and middle enclosures, some of which predate the church. We stopped here with several taking the opportunity to walk up to the site, although whether the sense of peace I seem to find here translated to others I am unsure. It was, though, here that the rear brake disc of a recently serviced KTM had come loose, the bike in question having to be ridden to Bangor for urgent repairs. So even here, there was a bit of drama! A tin of pears was opened by Derek....I can honestly say that they were the juiciest, sweetest and most delicious pears I had ever tasted....they quenched my thirst in the heat exasperated by wearing bike gear. 

Home from Daft Eddie's
With our mouths (if not souls) refreshed, we doubled back on ourselves out of Mahee Island but took a left turn onto the Tullynakill Road (this is the same route I have written about in Valhalla and the Fjörd. The road passes Tullynakill Church - the site that basically replaced Nendrum after her decline. The road here is, in the main, not even wide enough for two cars, but it plunges agreeably through trees that arch over the route, a pleasing rest bite from the sun. We turned onto the Ballydorn Road towards Whiterock and across the causeway to Sketrick Island and to Daft Eddies - guarded over by Sketrick Castle towerhouse. 

We pulled in with everyone immediately heading to get a drink....I think for some the sun combined with dehydration meant that one was sorely needed. We sat and chatted on the front veranda - apparently Michael Dunlop had won the Isle of Man superbike TT for BMW Motorrad (their first victory in 75 years). From Sketrick, we had planned to stop at Inch Abbey, Strangford and then Kilclief, but time was not on our sides as we had stayed at each previous stop much longer than expected. This meant that the journey back to the lodge was a bit of a blast through south Down. We flew through Strangford then to the Shore Road to Ballyhornan then to Ardglass following the coast to Dundrum Bay and Dundrum itself - passing the magical and imposing Dundrum Castle on the right (this is a site well worth a visit if one has time as it remains one of the finest Anglo-Norman castles in Ireland and one of the very few with a round tower or keep). 

It was nice to stretch the bikes' legs....and stretch them I did as the pace was increased on this last section with the sun starting to dim and set in front of me.....backlighting the Mournes as they peeped over the tops of hedges. Again the group was a bit strung out but I certainly didn't mind I was in a zone all to myself, my mind at ease and at peace as I leant into the corners and bends. Once back at Meelmore, we lit a fire in the same spot we had the year before - the craic was 'ninety' and there was plenty of talk about future runs;  a possible Summer Solstice run as well as, of course, ABR Ireland 2015! 

ABR Ireland (Videologue)