I stood on the shore of a wintry sea

I stood on the shore of a wintry sea, with a wintry sun just a few feet above its horizon-edge. It was bare, and waste, and gray. Hundreds of hopeless waves rushed constantly shorewards, falling exhausted upon a beach of great loose stones, that seemed to stretch miles and miles in both directions. There was nothing for the eye but mingling shades of gray; nothing for the ear but the rush of the coming, the roar of the breaking, and the moan of the retreating wave. No rock lifted up a sheltering severity above the dreariness around; even that from which I had myself emerged rose scarcely a foot above the opening by which I had reached the dismal day, more dismal even than the tomb I had left. A cold, death-like wind swept across the shore, seeming to issue from a pale mouth of cloud upon the horizon. Sign of life was nowhere visible. I wandered over the stones, up and down the beach, a human imbodiment of the nature around me. The wind increased; its keen waves flowed through my soul; the foam rushed higher up the stones; a few dead stars began to gleam in the east; the sound of the waves grew louder and yet more despairing. A dark curtain of cloud was lifted up, and a pale blue rent shone between its foot and the edge of the sea, out from which rushed an icy storm of frozen wind, that tore the waters into spray as it passed, and flung the billows in raving heaps upon the desolate shore. I could bear it no longer.

"I will not be tortured to death," I cried; "I will meet it half-way. The life within me is yet enough to bear me up to the face of Death, and then I die unconquered."

2024 Foray #6: Woodenbridge loop and PSA

This was going to be taking advantage of maybe the last fine weather this year, an overnight cycle exploring the Grand Canal. But I was uneasy for various reasons, one being the uncertainty of how much of the canal towpath was suitable for a road bike. This web page is the most up to date and comprehensive summary of work to upgrade the path to greenway standard. Maybe I'll get to do this exploration next year? But who knows what next year will hold for me?

Instead (and encouraged by A to make good use of the weather) I settled for a one day ride around the Wicklow Mountains, taking me over the Wicklow Gap, through Rathdum, the beautiful Vale of Avoca, Woodenbridge, Augrim, Tinahely, Hacketstown, Kiltegan, Baltinglass and home. Oh, and I tried for the coast but turned back through lack of time: that's the little appendage at far right of my track.

My track: 124.7km, elevation gain 1254m, average 16.3km/h

No photos. No thoughts of great inspiration, lots of hard slog, lots of magnesium supplement to ward off inevitable leg cramps. I also tried adding electrolytes to my drink: I'm not sure whether this helped. But all in all, I did it, I completed the course I had roughly planned the night before. My insides were a mess on returning home but I slept, oh how I slept (always punctuated by loo-breaks nowadays).

Loo breaks. Leg cramps. In a routine doctor appointment some six months ago the blood test indicated a higher than normal PSA level. This is a marker for possible prostate problems. That together with more frequent loo breaks recently. In spite of a second and a third blood test showing normal PSA level my GP sent me to a specialist at St. James, the specialist did an internal examination and sent me for an MRI scan and I now have an appointment on Tuesday next to hear the worst. Am I worried? Am I bothered? It one sense no, what will be will be. But worry isn't that easy to dismiss or control. Of course I am worried. I thought my body was doing passably ok for my age. Sometimes I look at my arms. Younger readers of this blog might think me simply phoney if I told you how I feel about my own arms. I know they've no muscle and are pretty mouldy, but I am so glad to see them. Why should that dreaded word "cancer" invade my thoughts? What right has it over my body? And so I cycled away yesterday with a big challenge before me to blow the cobwebs out of my machinating mind. Of course I am not worried: what good would that do?

Happy Birthday Anton

Anton Bruckner was born in Ansfelden (then a village, now almost a suburb of Linz) on 4 September 1824, that's 200 years ago. I feel somewhat obliged to mention that given the name of this blog.

2024 Foray #5: Royal Canal Greenway

 

My track: 186km over two days, elevation gain 440m

The Royal Canal Greenway at 130km is the longest greenway in Ireland. As an off-road greenway it does cheat a bit in embracing existing roads and tracks alongside the canal that give access to farms and cottages, but none-the-less it is navigable by walkers and bikes for the whole length, and work is in progress to extend it to Dublin. Some of the surface is paved (asphalt) and some is compacted fine gravel, either is good for road bikes even with thin tyres like mine. 

My goal was to ride the complete greenway from Maynooth to Cloondara where the canal meets the mighty Shannon river. You ask - why did I make this trip? Partly because the greenway exists, partly as a challenge, partly because that's what I do. Sure, I was in two minds up until the very last moment, what with very changeable weather forecast.

I started off from home and made my way via Naas, Sallins and Straffan to Maynooth which is the current trailhead. There Lidl supplied me with orange juice (with bits and not from concentrate) and fruit scone hard-tack to supplement my home brew cheese and pickle sandwich. Enough fuel for the first day. The weather forecast suggested the slight possibility of rain but in the event it rained several times enough to soak my rain coat and shorts on both days. Despite this I exceeded my expectations by getting to Mullingar where I found a suitable out of the way site to camp. I recognised the place from last year's Old Rail Trail post.

There I slept fitfully (it was cold and my tent was on a slope so I kept sliding down) where I figured I could complete the task in two days rather than the three I had planned. And I did. I re-booked my return train for later the next day, and got to Longford station about 20 minutes before the scheduled departure. In the event the train was about 15 minutes late.

The train took me to Drumcondra where the heavens opened whilst waiting for the next commuter service to Hazelhatch via the Phoenix Park tunnel. The station has nowhere to shelter. The train was packed: a soggy conglomerate of way too many bikes and way too many people standing in the lobby, but no one seemed to mind. From Hazelhatch I rode along the recently opened segment of the Grand Canal Greenway to Sallins (it continued to rain the whole way) where I was mercifully rescued by my wife.

Oh, and let me tell you about the angel at Halfords. The previous week I had noticed my chain had almost broken, and this probably accounted for the gear slipping and sometimes the chain coming off that I had recently experienced. So I took my bike to Halfords in Naas where a guy fitted a new chain. On returning home I took a test ride to the Wicklow Gap and back - lots of gradients. I found the chain was slipping on the highest gear, and some other gear ratios were not happening as they should. So I took the bike back to Halfords. This time a younger guy with bleached hair served me - possibly he was my angel. He identified excessive wear on the cassette which the other guy really ought to have alerted me to. He replaced the cassette and found the chain was too short, so replaced the chain (again) and did not charge me for the chain or any of his time. And he accompanied me to the door in order to watch as I did a quick test ride. He was courteous, technically astute, and generous. An angel indeed!

And all this the day before the excursion which is the subject of this post.  The bike behaved itself witness to my angel's good work.

Nearing my destination the heaven's opened - at the next lock I spied a sign "Mac's Shack 800m" in Keenagh. It seemed more like 800 miles but I made it, sodden, and asked for sustenance. The waitress was suitably impressed by my endeavours and served me a very late and second well-earned breakfast (the first was two scones somewhat earlier). And when I was done the rain had stopped (for a while). 

A foray needs a focal point, a goal. In this case it was to see where the canal entered the Shannon river.

In this aerial view of the Royal Canal terminus, the red square is where I stood to photograph the Shannon, the blue arrow is the Royal Canal and the red arrow is my path to Longford town via the N5. 

You can see all my pictures here.

Someone else has documented the greenway much better than I, here.

2024 Foray #4: Carrauntoohil revisited

This time it was a family affair, six of us. We left home at 5am, drove to the official carpark, climbed via Brother O'Shea's gully as before. It rained on and off, as before. We had hoped to do the Bones, Lough Cummeenoughter, Beenkeragh, descending via the Hag's Tooth but aborted because of the weather, as before.  

The only difference was this time was we went past the Devil's Ladder and on to Cnoc na Toinne to descend via the "Zig Zag". Oh, and we passed a group some of whom were swimming in Cummeenoughter, the highest lake in Ireland!

My pictures are here.