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.