Older

Growing older. You don't think about it much until it happens to you. The mountain bike boy I met a few weeks back whilst walking in the forestry, tackling scary obstacles on the narrow bike trails carved out of the hillside: we are two generations apart and yet he had the grace to stop and wish me well. I don't even know your name, but I hope that the brakes on your bike are good - please don't fall and hurt yourself because I want you to live life to the full.

Another boy in his early teens: I teach him woodwork - there's such a sparkle in his eyes, such a rejoicing in his new-found skills, so thankful for the time I give him, so outspoken for his age (in a good way, wanting to complete the projects I set by himself without my interference). Again I find myself looking forward and wondering what life has in store for him.

I wish I were young again. Without a care, no aches or pains, with a portion of that youthful vigour that now seems so elusive.

But then there's T, now in his late teens, suffering from leukaemia - I know him only via social media, but have been praying for his "complete healing" for about eight years now. The medical staff have no doubt been wonderful, but I have hoped and asked for so much more. A young life in the balances - why, why O Lord? And how dare I complain about my own aches and pains when he has had to grapple with this condition for so long, in and out of hospital.

I aim to jog four or five miles several times a week (barefoot of course). It used to be that, when it was cold outside, I would start off with a long enough sprint to warm up. But I find I can no longer do this: chest tightness tells me to slow down. I am told this is due to plaque forming in my arteries - not yet life threatening but the doctor wants to put me on all manner of drugs with scary common side effects. I don't want drugs. I want to be young again!

Generally speaking I think I am relatively fit for my age and I am so thankful for that. But there's no getting away from it: I'm not as young as I used to me. Growing older.

Beautiful Ireland 2

Beautiful Ireland from Church Mountain

Last Sunday I was returning the long way from a swim in the river and happened upon three mountain-cyclists about to head over the pass between Corriebracks and Church Mountain. On their encouragement I followed their route this afternoon, parking my bike on the way down to walk (barefoot of course) to the summit of Church Mountain. The last time I climbed this mountain was many years ago - I think in the snow with my younger daughter who was so small the snow kept coming over her boots so I had to carry her.  

I strongly recommend this route to anyone who enjoys the outside. We live somewhere close to those lakes you see in the panorama above. Like I said before - Wow! We are so blessed to have places like this within walking or cycling distance! 

My new road bike has aluminium rims and I thought might not like the stones and ruts, so I used my trusty "mountain" bike (aka my old road bike promoted).

Courtesy Google Maps: Yellow = cycling, Red = walking
(Click on image to display large version)

So here are some more pictures from the trip:

You can see the track over the hills and far away

Looking back, and the typical track surface

Half-way up - looking towards Hollywood

My trusty mountain bike and one of the many gates to negotiate

The pass summit - looking south

The pass summit - looking west towards Church Mountain

Here I left my steed and climbed on foot - literally

View from the summit of Church Mountain

The cairn enclosing the remains of a church

In memory of someone or other who also loved these hills

Last glance back at the summit

The descent towards Donard

On the way home through Hollywood Glen