01/08/2014 / Friday / Dowlings Camping Park, Glengarriff, County Cork - Grapevine Hostel, Dingle, County Kerry / 135miles
The following morning arrives with our planned 7am start, which seemed perfectly reasonable the previous night, elapses by an hour, but at least I'm up first.
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| Fig. 1 - Getting packed up for the days ride. |
Mike and Alexa announce that they’ve decide to stop, where they are for the next couple of days to give Alexa’s knee's some badly needed rest, before heading straight to their friend Pauls house North in Westport, as long as he's given them the right key that is, as he’s got a history of being a bit of a klutz! I choose not to mention Alex’s plans, of last night, to travel with me, as I feel that’s up to Alex but I tell him, to catch up with Mike and their plans.
It rained properly, in the night and my cheap, and too small tent is damp, and the ground sheet is are saturated. I hang up the inner tent in the nearest tree and lay out the fly sheet on the hard standing area, next to the bikes, in hopes that it'll dry a little whilst I go grab a shower. It’s still spitting with rain when I get back.
Our plans for today are to travel East along the coast of The Beara Peninsula, from Coolieragh, and then head North up to the Healy Pass and join the Ring of Beara to ride to the start of the 'Ring of Kerry'. Then head North and ride through Molls Gap, then navigate through the back roads, to the North of the Ring and then head West to check out the Cahergall Hill Fort.
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Fig. 2 - Alex wonder as to my sanity, at taking a photo of an,
unusual to me, petrol pump. |
We pop into Glengarriff, to look for fuel and to top up our tanks but in the end decide to carry on to the next fuel stop. We did stop briefly next to the only fuel pump in town, which I found novel, as it was mounted simply on the foot path, directly outside a shop. Albeit these where common years ago but to us ‘youngsters’ it’s a little unusual to see.
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| Fig. 3 - The view from the Healy Pass. |
The Healy Pass turns out to be a rather exiting twisty run, I take it as easy and as smoothly as I can, being conscious that Alex is filming with his 'head cam' it and I wanted to make it at least look good. However despite this I managed to slam the bike into the tarmac, with the damn centre stand, something I thought would be a useful addition to the bike, but in practice was being more of a danger than a help, and I end up tearing a chunk out of the asphalt and leaving my mark on Ireland. When we arrive at the top of the Pass and stop to chat, Alex mentions that the impact, and how he had seen my rear wheel throw itself a foot to the left, at the time I was too busy swearing to notice. Apart from my centre stand, now giving me some paranoia of a repeated incident, we had made it smoothly to the top of the 'Healy Pass'.
The 'Healy Pass' or 'The Tim Healy Pass', was built in 1847, to help prevent starvation and in 1931 was dedicated, posthumously to 'Timothy Michael Healy'. A local politician, who appreciated the need for a proper road to exist to connect the Kerry and Cork sides of the Beara Peninsula. Another interesting though quirky fact we learned, was that during funeral processions, the coffin was pushed across the county line, to be then received by the folk, across on the other side of the border.
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Fig. 4 - Photo shortly after the moving forward to remove the
white car from view. |
We took the opportunity to take a few pictures, however there happened to be a White car in the way of our shots, which Alex openly bemoaned at. Unfortunately for Alex, he hadn't notice, until too late that the lady owner, was within ear shot, not 10 feet to his right. Realising his error Alex, just sat there looking straight ahead, rather uncomfortably. I move my bike forward of the car, to remove it from my view and take a few more pictures before we then quickly move on our way.
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| Fig. 5 - Having a short nosy down a gravel track treats us to another lovely view. |
On the way to Kenmare, we ride the R574 from 'The Healy Pass' North and followed the R573 / R571 coastal road to Kenmare. We couldn’t help but pull off the road to venture down a gravel track, to a small viewing point, looking out over a small inlet.
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| Fig. 6 - Stopping in Kenmare, to plan our route, next to this lovely BMW R80, |
Reaching Kenmare, we stop to plan our next route, parking near a nice looking White BMW R80 with sidecar. This was the start, of the 'Ring of Kerry' and we had hit holiday makers and lots of traffic, just as we were warned about by our American friend Jack, back in New Ross. So heeding his advice we decide to head North along the N71, to the start of Molls Gap, then follow the R568 heading West, leaving the B-road to follow the single track, back roads through Derrylea, Looscaunagh and along the Gallavally Road onto Derrylooseavunagh. Then we really went off the beaten track, by doing a spot of impromptu greenlaning, following a loop that Google maps showed us existed, through Gearhameen linking up with the Derrylous Caunagh road then on past Hollywood, no we didn’t get that lost, and then onto the Gap of Dunloe Road.
The road going through Gearhomeen, was a little challenging, as we came across a lot of tourists and ramblers and surprisingly a few horse and traps, seemingly carrying mostly American tourists about. I was glad that my exhaust was quiet, still I switched the engine off just to be safe, as they passed by. The horses where oblivious and didn't even seem to care or take any notice however. Unfortunately some of the ramblers acted in a similar fashion. One instance I had to practically stop, so as not to hit this stupid woman, who just stubbornly wouldn't get out of the bloody, way till the last minute. It wound me up and with a fist full, I blasted away in frustration, hopping I'd scare her a little. At the end of the road, there were two options, a gravel track to our left and a road over a bridge, to our right or back the way we came. Luckily Alex still had internet so we comparing Google maps, to what we could see on the ground and the GPS and made the decision to go left and see how far we could get in linking up this loop, that appeared on Google maps.
I had no trouble on the KLE, moving over the loose gravel, whilst standing up on the pegs and keeping my weight forward. However Alex on the other hand, was on his BMW K75, with road tyres and hadn't a lot of control, but seemed to get on well enough, I thought. Though according to Alex he had no control, but only a wing and a prayer. We came across a gate which luckily, wasn't locked and carried on through and we eventually, linked back up with the tarmac road again.
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| Fig. 7 - In the 'Gap of Dunloe' and whilst taking this shot, a walking couple, kindly offer to take a few photos of us. |
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| Fig. 8 - This must have been them, doing a test shot. |
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| Fig. 9 - Smile! |
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The Gap of Dunloe road was extra challenging, not only where there twisties, as we descended but lot’s more ramblers and more horse and traps, plus their inevitable horse shit. Half way down whilst, crossing a bridge, I was taking a few shots of us when, one of the ramblers offered kindly to take our photos. We rode onto the bridge for our photos, we thanked them and wished them a good day whilst we carried on. The narrow road descended, down into a ravine with jagged rocks, made jet black by the rain, climbing to the sky on both sides of us. Luckily only one or two cars came from the opposite direction on this single track. Using the engine as a brake, as well as keeping the brakes on, whilst slowly overtaking traps and trying not to spook any horses, was a little challenging, soon the smell of nicely cooking brakes, met our nostrils.
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Fig. 10 - What a great road. This is a small lake at
an intermediate level as we ride down the mountains side. |
On top of that, as we neared the end of the road, there was a trench gouged out in the middle, created by the horses and thanks to the rain there was literally a river of horse shit running down it. Which covered the front of our bikes and hot engine casings so adding, to the aroma of cooked brakes was a sweet grassy hay whiff. Luckily of me I didn't lose too much control, moving across this trench, when I had to navigate around the ramblers as I had knobbly tyres fitted, but Alex had to get people to move around him, least he fall in the preverbal.
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Fig. 11 - The battle with hikers plus horse and traps now complete,
it's time for a well-earned cuppa, in a cafe just to the left of shot.
If you look closely, you can see that our bike are now covered in,
putting it nicely, green smelly 'flock!'. |
Finally arriving at the bottom, where there was a café, I made the decision, to have a breather and a bite to eat. Whilst gazing out of the café window another bike turns up, with a couple on, but from the opposite direction, they stay only a few minutes, then climbed back on and turn around heading back down the road. The bike was a nice and clean Adventure Bike and more than capable of doing this road. We chuckled as we thought, that he just didn't want to get it all dirty.
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| Fig. 12 - Aha, that would explain one or two things then! |
Whilst leaving the cafe we look back up the road, to where we had come from, and spotted a road sign, that we didn’t see, as we'd obviously come from the opposite direction, that read 'that road was restricted to horses and access to accommodation and business only'. Ah, so that explains it the absence of vehicle traffic. Even with that being the case, I have to say that it was an exciting road and I would thoroughly recommend it. Just travel in the same direction we did and claim complete ignorance!
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Fig. 13 - The main road,
or as it turned out not. |
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| Fig. 14 - Our first sight of the Hill Forts. |
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After the Gap, we turn left, following the Satnav to Cahergall Fort. We had initially chosen to go via the back roads, but changed our plans to choose to travel on the main coastal road North, following the N70, but the Satnav ignored us and took us across country. It was about half way down the road that I started to think, that the road we were on was a bit rough to be the main road, especially as Alex was spending most of his time getting air on his road bike, whilst trying to keep up with me. The road took us past Lough Acoose, through Glencer and then on over the Ballaghasheen Pass into Cahersiveen. Then, by following the tourist signs, we arrived at the Hill Fort, which we discovered to be actually two forts called Cahergall and Leacanabuile.
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| Fig. 15 - Approaching the entrance to Cahergall Fort. |
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| Fig. 16 - Looking from inside back through the defendable entrance |
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| Fig. 17 - View from the other side of Cahergall Fort. |
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These Irish Stone Forts are known as Cashels and there Earthen equivalent are called Raths and are both collectively known, as ringforts. High status people would have owned them, where some would have been used as defensive homesteads. They are difficult to accurately date, being rebuilt and repaired overtime, but these forts roughly date from between 500 - 800 AD and have been recently reconstructed, for the public.
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| Fig. 18 - Leacanabuile Fort, site plan. |
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| Fig. 19 - Leacanabuile Fort, with Alex as a scale, thanks Alex! |
The Cahergall Fort was fascinating and a real insight into some of the engineering understanding, of the peoples, who lived at that time.
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| Fig. 20 - View from atop Cahergall Fort, 'location, location, location'. |
It was only much later on that I made the connection, with a little small fact I picked up when I visited Newgrange, was that if you see a hill that has a ring of trees growing on it, there's more than a chance, that at some time in the past there was a hill fort there, and there are hundreds dotted about Ireland.
From Cahergall Fort, we took the main coastal road East, along the N70 'Ring of Kerry', stopping halfway for some photos, looking over towards the Dingle Peninsula, which was fascinated us. Realising that we could see across the water, to where we were heading for. Using my hard copy maps, we followed the outline of the coast and soon picked out Dingle Town, we could just make out the inlet for the bay. We also decided it would be a likely place to find a hostel and about time in our journey for a decent nights rest.
It seemed to take ages to get to Castlemaine, where we started onto the Dingle Peninsula proper and headed West towards Dingle, for the night. It was raining again, with the sky looking rather moody.
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| Fig. 21 - We stop, stare and listen to the sea rolling in on |
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| Fig. 22 - Inch Beach. |
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A few miles along the road I spot a beach, called Inch Beach which we decide to have a ride down and onto for some photos. The sand was soft, but I had a bit more confidence in my nobblys and rode almost to the surf, before the sand became too soft me. We sat there for a minute with our engines off and just listening to the oceans surf, rolling onto the beach, as we gazed out to the horizon. It's moments like that, that are the most special to me.
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| Fig. 23 - Full rainbow shot! |
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| Fig. 24 - Got to get the bikes in somewhere. |
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We have to stop, again, just a mile down the road, as a rainbow suddenly appears. It was so close you could see where one end stopped, seemingly on a grassy sand dune not far away. Quick get the shovels out again!
Moving on, we eventually arrive in Dingle and park up in the centre. I momentarily leave Alex looking after the bikes and pop into the nearest pub as the local tourist info was closed. A pub, I surmised, was as just a good an information resource as any and as it turned out there was 3 Hostels in the area. The first we visited was full but the other, The Grapevine, just a few more houses down the street, had a few beds left for us.
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| Fig. 25 - Our hostel for the night. |
Parking the bikes on the street, opposite the hostel we, dump our stuff in our room, shared with a few others and lazily rode around the corner, to the pub for a late dinner. The food looked good, so I decided to try something local and opted for the trout, though I can’t remember what Alex went for.
We discussed plans for tomorrows ride, whilst listened to the live music that had just struck up, at which we couldn’t help but take the mick out of a little! It was good music, don't get me wrong, it was more specifically, the chap tapping a box he was sat on! It just seemed funny to us at the time that a wooded box was being used as an instrument, but why not? For a change we opted for an early night and left the pub around 10 pm.
Just before we re-entered the hostel, the sound of mixed live music caught my ears and I continued to walk just past the hostel, to the junction at the end of the street. Looking up and down and due to the fact it was Irelands main bank holiday, all the pubs and guest houses where full of life and sound. Making me somewhat regret the need for a night off, as I was sorely tempted to get involved. It’s definitely a place that gave me the feeling, that I could easily spend a few days, just soaking up the atmosphere.
