3. I DID not ride a bike as
an exuberant child. I did
not own a bike until I
had too much sensibility
and I did not race a bike
until I had too little time
to train.
The sensibility grows, the
time wanes further, yet
exuberance has returned
and I blame the growing
of my two-wheeled fleet
from one to four on you.
At the next seat is a
person who will gladly
spend hours alone in
your company, either
on the road or off it.
They will either listen
to your disintegrating
conversation as breathing
labours or put the pints on
the table as the bicycling
stories accelerate to
fiction.
It is their fault you have
forgotten what beer
gardens look like. It is
their fault you spend more
money on parts than food.
It is their fault you are
here, and it is founders
Pat Feehan, Vincent
It’s the light that makes
its way through the dawn
curtains that sets the tone
for a day. The colour gives
clues as to what lies ahead
and triggers the questions
that will make their way
through your head for the
coming day.” - St. Tiernan’s CC rouleur Barry Doyle, c2011
“
Supple and Martin De
Burcas fault they are here
to celebrate 30 years of
St. Tiernan’s Cycling and
Adventure Club.
Why? You ask. Read on.
The Editor
4. THE Dublin – Jerusalem
Cycle and St. Tiernan’s
Cycling Club will forever
be linked.
It was a one-off event to
raise funds for the parish
of Balally in August 1983.
A group of 23 cyclists,
including three blind
riders and led by Father
Paddy Lyons, departed
Balally parish church and
in 32 days of cycling and
TO THE NORTH
A HANDFUL of riders
from that Jerusalem quest
did continue to cycle,
meeting at Parkvale on
Saturday mornings for
leisurely rides. Martin De
Burca, Mary Supple, John
Callinan, Anthony Roe
and Vincent Supple were
cycling just for pleasure.
Early in 1984, Co-
Operation North
introduced the Dublin
– Belfast Maracycle, an
initiative to promote cross
border relations. This
was a cycle to Belfast on a
Saturday and back to Dublin
the next day; 1,600 cyclists
responded to the challenge
and it was probably the first
time many of them had set
foot in Northern Ireland.
“With the help of Paddy
Byrne, the principal St.
Tiernan’s Community
School, we organised a
group of students, boys and
girls, who trained diligently
for this event. With Pat
Feehan in his van as
back-up, assisted by Ray
McDonnell, how could we
fail? We called ourselves
St. Tiernan’s Cycling Club
for that weekend and it
stuck! Yes, there were
tired legs and sore bums
in our group of 26, but
these young people were
fantastic. Covering 204
miles in two days was a
marvelous achievement
and Paddy Byrne and his
staff had a lovely meal
ready for us on our return.”
Vincent Supple
camping reached the city
of Jerusalem
“It was an extraordinary
achievement. After a
few days in the Holy
City we flew home. This
group of cyclists never
again cycled as a group.
They dispersed into the
community, returning to
the workplace, to school
and to college.” Vincent
Supple
5. The bonds created during
that epic tour to Belfast
boosted the Saturday
morning group and it
became as regular as
clockwork, but it was
not long until their legs
longed for unfamiliar
stretches.
“For a bit of adventure
we organised, in March
1985, a weekend to
Aghavannagh for a
group of 27 to cycle and
camp in hostels, then
we strengthened our
back-up team, with
Linda McCarthy and
Tracey McDonnell,
in preparation for the
June 1985 Maracycle.
Our numbers were now
growing rapidly. We
had to assign leadership
roles to the more senior
riders in the club who
were still only in their
teens! We recognised
very quickly that good
leaders on the bikes were
critical. In November we
had another trip like the
one in Aghavannagh to
Glendalough and Tiglin
for 42 members. These
young cyclists loved
touring and hosteling.”
Vincent Supple
IN 1985 St Tiernan’s
Cycling Club was invited
by the National League
of the Blind to supply
four pilots to partner four
blind cyclists in an event
in England called the 4th
Bold Tulip Tandem Cycle
Marathon for Visually
Impaired Cyclists. It
was held in Spalding,
Lincolnshire on Saturday,
April 27 and David Supple,
Paddy Feehan, Joe Feehan
and Nigel Ennis were
selected as pilots.
“The event was an
individual time trial for
63 tandems with riders
from France, England,
Wales, Scotland, Northern
IN March 1986 St Tiernan’s affiliated to the Catholic
Youth Council (CYC) as St. Tiernan’s Cycling &
Adventure Club. This affiliation provided them with
the essential Public Liability Insurance cover.
The first committee comprised;
Chairman - Vincent Supple, Secretary - Ruairi De
Burca, Treasurer – Robin O’Grady
Comm. members; Pat Feehan (Senior), Mary Supple,
John Callinan, Fiona De Burca, Karen Martin, Anna
Feehan, Craig Ennis, Paddy Feehan.
Tour on,
riders Ireland and, for the
first time, a team of
four tandems from the
Republic of Ireland. There
were two categories – male
and mixed tandems. We
were absolutely thrilled
when David Supple,
piloting Rita Rogers,
won the mixed category
with Paddy Feehan and
Mary Hastings in second
position. Rita, Mary,
John McKeon and Jim
Gallagher could barely
contain themselves with
the excitement of it all.
The French teams were
powerful, winning the
male category.”
Vincent Supple
6. IN early July 1986, 42 club
members disembarked
in Le Havre for 17 days
of cycling and camping
through France to catch
a ferry home to Rosslare
from Cherbourg.
The group was mixed, 25
male and 17 female, with
13-year-olds Keith Ennis
and Nicky Colgan the
youngest, and their grand
tour took them through
Lisieux, Versailles, Paris,
Chartres, into the Loire
Valley, through Blois,
Tours, Angers, Fougere,
Dinard, St. Malo, Le Mont
St. Michel and Bayeux.
“The highlight was a
diversion to Evreux for
the finish of the fourth
stage of the real Tour de
France – pure magic. We
were blessed with two
marvelous back-up teams
in two vans; Pat Feehan
and his brother in law
Dave Colgan, working
with Roisin Keohe, Tracy
McDonnell and Linda
Mc Carthy. The cyclists
were amazing too in their
sparkling new club jerseys.
This was a great adventure
for everyone especially
the young riders and not
without risk. But we knew
them, trained them and
trusted them. It was a truly
memorable trip.” Vincent
Supple
For many years the long
domestic tours, camping in
hostels, ran every summer.
They’d spent days on the
road cresting every hill in
Ireland 100s of miles at a
time and picking up strays
along the way.
“I had become bored with
racing and I was taking
a break from the focused
training regime. I had
heard Bray CC had a
touring group so early on a
Saturday morning I drove
with my father Dermot
to Bray to meet them.
Unfortunately we missed
them so we pedalled over
Bray Head and there, by
chance, a group of leisue
riders escorted by more
experienced looking riders.
I don’t remember anything
out of the ordinary
happening on my first spin
with Tiernan’s but I knew
that this was the club that
would rekindle my spirit
and motivate me to race
again.” Conor O’Dwyer
Tiernan’s final summer
tour, to Scotland in 1993
was oversubscribed.
With their loyal back-
up in support, the group
cycled and camped for
two weeks from Stranraer
to Dumfries, Edinburgh,
Stirling, Crianlarich,
Oban, Glasgow and back to
Stranrear.
7. IN 1988, St. Tiernan’s
racing really kicked off.
They won the Schools
Cycling Championships
on the track, Keith
Meghan took gold in
the Dublin Community
Games Cycling
Championships. Ken
Sherry and Eoin Pearson
completed their coaching
course and, with John
Callinan, formed a strong
coaching team that would
take young riders to
National Championship
wins and Junior Tour Of
Ireland finishes.
“The emergence of a
talented and powerful
racing section was
very striking. These
riders were all winners
at different age levels
either in club or open
racing; Andre Engeman,
Brian Kennedy, Paul
Doyle, Aidan Duff, Keith
Bannan, Kilian Byrne,
Eoin Pearson, David
Maher, David Kyne, Alan
Doyle, Ruairi Mitchell,
Tristan Dunne, Garrett
Stokes, John Callinan
and Gary McNulty and
two years later, Gary,
Aidan and Brian filled the
podium at the National
Championships at U14
level.” Vincent Supple
Aidan Duff would win the
Junior Tour of Ireland,
holding the yellow jersey
throughout, in 1996 for
Bray Wheelers.
8. BRIAN LENNON died as
he had lived, pushing with
everything.
Described as the “quiet
gent”, Lennon was a Ras
rider. He was coveted by
the Irish team. He was
honest, hardworking and
selfless.
In May 2004, at just 29, he
collapsed after a training
spin and could not be
revived. That massive heart
that powered him to several
Leinster Championship
medals, many race wins
and that top six finish in
the National Road Race
Championships, failed as
he was preparing for his
third Ras.
“It is hard to believe that
this quiet gent that gave
so much to the sport and
especially our club passed
away so suddenly. He will
be sorely missed and will
always remain in our
thoughts and prayers.”
Brian Hayden
“A pleasant and popular
young man, Brian was an
accomplished cyclist and
a tough competitor. His
death had a huge impact on
his cycling colleagues and
all those who knew him.
May he rest in the peace of
the Lord.” Vincent Supple
“I recall doing an inter-club
race at one stage and as
I was going out the back,
unable to stay with the
bunch, someone planted
a hand on my bike and
pushed me right back up
to the group again. I was
knackered but struggled
out a breathless ‘thank
you’ - a very casual-looking
Brian replied, ‘no problem’,
smiled, and dropped back
to help out various other
people too. That incident
represents my general
impression of him as
always friendly, cheerful,
supportive, and a monster
on a bike. I didn’t know
him well, but well enough
to know that his death
must have been a terrible
and tragic blow to his
family and friends, and a
big loss to Irish cycling too.”
Louis Twomey
Brian had been working
back from a bad cold,
itching to get to the Ras
and working towards a
place on the Irish team.
That green jersey was his
long running goal and he
had been sought out at
Ras Mumhan by the team
management, asking him
to take up international
duty later in the year in
Belgium. It was never to
be. What really made him
stand out was that he had
one way of riding, the way
that most helped those
weaker, and one way of
racing; hard.
“From the moment the flag
dropped he’d do what he
could to get into a move,
often going up the road in
the first few miles. Once
clear, he’d work flat out
for the rest of the day to
build a gap and ensure the
group he was in would stay
away. Brian’s characteristic
honesty cost him many
victories, but his refusal
to soft pedal earned him
a huge amount of respect
from his fellow riders.
He was by far the best
rider in the club, yet from
October to February he’d be
out on the worst bike. He’d
be on a machine made up
of parts cannibalized from
his old, run down bikes.
Mudguards, runner style
SPD shoes and scrappy
worn out gear; that was his
way of switching off from
the racing frame of mind.
He loved that pig iron bike.
So did we, I guess. It helped
drag him that bit closer to
my level.” Shane Stokes
9. “We stopped in
Lisdonvarna. Rob chatted
up some ladies of older
vintage whilst eating
cheese cake, Kevin
smooth talked some
others into a supply of
twixes as Dave and I
scoffed ham sandwiches.
This food stop has
excelled in th three years
I have been doing this
event and this year was
no different. We’ll have to
find out who makes the
pink cheese cake, it’s only
delicious.” Barry Doyle
“During our coffee shop
stop we gleaned some
important nuggets of
information firstly Dave
K has a weak spot for
Carrot Cake and Robbie
found out that the main
difference between a deep
apple pie and a standard
apple & strawberry pie is
approx half an inch”.
Brian Hayden
“Oh, the Tea bags. The elixir
for each of us, these are the wet Irish
cyclists power bar, the spirit replenishing
supplements we needed to recharge our
depleted motivation and encourage us
to move on. None of your EPO or blood
transfusions for us, Sean made us a cup
of tea. Each shivering body wrapped
their frozen hands around a mug and
slowly found some colour in the greys
that rested outside.” Barry Doyle
hatted
der
g
“During ourrrrrrrrrr cocococococococoooococococococooooocooococooococooococcoocoooocococoococcococccocccccccocooffeffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff e shop
stop we gleanedddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd sosososossososoooosossossososooooososososooossooossossssssssoossssssooosssosoommemememmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmememmmmemmmmmmmemmmmmmememmmmemeeee
important nuggets ofofoffffffffoffffffffffoffffoffffff
information firstly Dave
slowly found some colour in the greys
that rested outside.” BaB rry Doyle
10. “I would like to declare
that no animals were
hurt during last
Saturday’s spin but
that simply wasn’t the
case. The advanced
group had a good strong
bunch of ten hardy
riders taking advantage
of what turned out to be
the best weather we’d
see until Monday. An
incident-ridden spin of
rabid animals and tough
climbs that I’m sure
left everyone feeling
a little fragile come
Saturday evening.”
Dave Comiskey, several
Saturdays
“Another incident was
narrowly avoided as a
Cavalier King Charles
Spaniel was let run
across the road by a
dim witted owner. As
I hurtled toward the
pooch I had the choice
of swerving violently,
locking up and risking
taking down the other
eight riders behind
me or just keep going
straight for the dog and
see what happens. I
chose the latter and the
dog managed to scurry
away terrified. Literally
millimetres from my
front wheel.” Dave
Comiskey, one Saturday
“On to Enfield, taking
the opportunity to up the
effort a little with some
big ring up and overs,
or at least everyone else
was in the big ring, I
was in my only ring. It
was along here that we
saw a brave countryman
cutting a 15ft hedge from
the comfort of a JCB
shovel. If health and
safety spotted that he’d
have gotten a gold star!”
Colm Tobin, one July
“The pace increased rapidly after the six STCC
lads were joined by four riders from the Cycleways
Club. Given the conditions on the day the extra
riders provided some distraction from the atrocious
conditions, new conversation and some added shelter
in the group as we clocked up 35km together at a fairly
high intensity, well at least for some of us! After we
split up a majority vote saw us head to Sallins for a
well deserved coffee. Some good quality training on
the way home added to the morning’s enjoyment with
a total distance of 110km from the Maldron. (for data
protection reasons we cannot disclose the details
of the vote!)”
Kevin McNamee, one winter.
11. Andy’s Advice Best
advice ever came from
Philip Lee. I was at
a stage when I was
taking it very seriously
and making stupid
sacrifices for very little
gain. He said: ‘Andy,
never forget; we’re just
freds racing against
other freds’. That lad is
a genius.” Andy Lakes
“The spin had the feeling
of the last a stage of Le
Tour; a relaxed group out
enjoying the sunshine
with plenty of banter. As
I looked around the group
I got the impression that a
number of the riders also
thought that the spin was
like a stage of the Tour,
but for a different reason.
I believe they noticed
that myself and Eamon
portrayed the parts of
Froome and Wiggins.
Eamon was obviously the
stronger rider as he rode
tempo at the front of the
bunch but there was no
doubt who the real leader
was.” Brian Hayden, one
June
“Temptation number two and the road to Trois Ponts
and it’s train station. I stopped to gather my thoughts –
there was still plenty of light- should I stop for a while
to eat and rest. I pressed on. A sharp turn just at the
bottom of the descent from the Cote de Wanne. – and
straight up the Cote de Stockeu. The Rue Eddy Merckx
sign at the bottom was probably deserving of a photo
but I was lacking the mental capability. This was a
nasty piece of road. I bumped into some English lads
who shared some food with me an hour or so ago. They
had lost 2 men. They shouted encouragement and I
followed on and tried to get into some sort of rhythm. I
was cramping and exhausted. Over the top eventually
and descend back into Stavelot past the beginning of
the climb I had just gone up- now that was taking the
mickey.” Brian Kilbride, Liege-Bastogne-Liege
“And so it was, with nine
and a half hours on the
clock, that we hit the
lower slopes of the Col
d’Peyresourde, 12 litres of
water drunk, 7,000 calo-
ries burnt, 180 kilometres
cycled. 4,000 meters
climbed. It was now 14
fearsome hours since we
woke to the dark of early
morning. The mind and
body are tired asking you
to be logical, stop for gods
sake, you’ve had enough,
but your not listening any
more. One more climb,
one more 15k slog at
eight per cent, cadence
at 65, pushing on but not
achieving the heart rate
levels from earlier in the
day, giving it everything
you’ve got to bring it
home.”
Barry Doyle, l’Etape
12. “The descent into Liege is
through derelict industrial
waste land, closed coal
mines and steel works and
slag heaps, down past the
football stadium and on
to the Cote Saint Nicholas
– magnificently desolate.
The Cote Saint Nicholas
is dastardly for most of
its length and capable of
ending all conversation.”
Brian Kilbride, Liege-
Bastogne-Liege
“Wicklow Gap, it’s mere
mention makes the hair
stand up on the back of
your neck. It’s a five mile
climb and takes anything
from 20 minutes and
upwards to complete. For
those of us not talented
or disciplined enough to
have successful racing
careers, Wicklow Gap is
the next best thing. We
get our moment to shine.
In recent months, the
superior ability of club
mates means that I’ve
resorted to sneaking away
while they are in the shop
in Laragh. Despite this
new shady tactic, I still
have finished triumphantly
on the climb.” Andy Lakes,
many club spins
“We arrived at the first
climb, mini corkscrew hill,
(ed – second climb. First
climb was Ballaghadine
Hill after just 8k). This
climb was only 600m but
10 per cent gradient. Paul
and Dave crested first
having travelled down a
I had heard so much about this hill, I actually couldn’t wait to get cracking on it. The
first thing I noticed about the Koppenberg is how narrow it is; you’d fit two bikes only it
seemed to me. But the way it is paved, with a pronounced camber on both sides, makes
it difficult to ride in a straight line. I got into a nice rhythm on it and was making slow-
but-steady progress, when a rider in front seemed to lose their way and fell into the ditch
at the side. I remember thinking, ‘that’s unfortunate, I can’t really see why that rider fell
off’. Then precisely the same thing happened to me! I dunno, unless you can maintain
momentum on the crown of the road it is very difficult to stay upright. I heard Emmet
laughing uproariously behind me at my misfortune. Which was quite funny because he
ended up in the ditch himself not 20 metres up the road.” Mick Dempsey Tour of Flanders
winding boreen, when
Paul Kissane went all
Philipe Gilbert on us and
danced his way up the
eight per cent, 2k climb.
We each tested ourselves at
this early stage and I must
admit to some mild road
rage as with 100 metres
to go, my heart rate at 95
per cent, Dave “Contador”
Comiskey crested by my
suffering making glib
comments about the great
view. All he was missing
was the pipe and slippers.
He was lucky he didn’t get
a clip around the ears.”
Barry Doyle, The Burren.
“The last big challenge
was the Paterberg at
240kms – this is a monster
with an average gradient
13. of 12.9 per cent but with a
maximum of 20.3 per cent.
It was almost dark as we
made our way up it. It was
tough but possibly easier
to negotiate than some of
the earlier hills as at this
stage there weren’t too
many other riders around.
Getting over the Paterberg
was a great feeling, as
I knew at that stage we
would make it home ok
and it was just a matter of
turning the pedals for the
last 15 or so kilometres.”
Mick Dempsey, Tour of
Flanders
“One of the most famous
and historic climbs of Le
Tour, the awe inspiring
Alpe d’Huez. 21 hair
pin bends, 14k, average
gradient eight per cent.
There was an episode of
Father Ted where they
enlisted the help of the
‘Matty Hislop’s 10 Steps
To Redemption’ to help
them give up the booze,
fags and rollerblading. Self
flagellation was a major
theme of his self help
guide; he was honorifically
allergic to cats, so he
carried one in his pocket.
Well ol’ Matty would have
appreciated what became
a regular feature of our
training program Three
rounds of Shay Elliot, out
and back, 12 climbs, 12
descents, over 3,600m of
climbing. Horrific stuff
but it definitely got us
through the Marmotte.
Facing into Alpe d’Huez,
I’d still choose the 21 bends
ahead of facing the last two
climbs on that triple loop to
get back to Laragh.”
Joe Flynn, Shay Elliott
“My favourite day is a
tough choice, but I could
pick any day from two
weeks that I’ve spent
cycling in the French Alps.
The climbs are amazing,
and the descents are even
better (not to mention
the food and wine in the
evenings). My favourite
climb, depending on the
day of the week you ask
might be Col D’Izoard,
Col de Madeleine or Alpe
D’Huez for the vibe. The
biggest slog was either
the Galibier or the Col de
l’Iseran which I did from
both directions, the first
year as a 48km climb from
the ‘easy’ side, and a year
later from the opposite
direction where we ran
into a snowstorm at the
top (PS We didn’t even
consider neutralising the
descent.” Fergal May,
The Alps
“We pushed on for the
Toumalet, our 2115m
nemesis, that goads you into
serenity as you wind your
way through a stunning
valley towards its hellish
rise. Whilst the Tourmalet
is 19 kilometres in length
there is considerable four
and five per cent gradients to
painstakingly negotiate as its
lower slopes come into view.
Hard work, but nothing
compared to the real thing,
it has constantly amazed
us how our perceptions of
gradients has changed in
the last few days. Brendan,
Kevin and I hit the lower
slopes of the Tourmalet
together and stayed together
through its torturous ascent.
We kept at each other,
encouraging yet respectful
of each others climbing
styles. Only vocal when
needed, we remained silent
to each other, respectful of
the climbing rhythm each of
us generated. The numbers
had thinned out at this stage
and we seemed to pass more
than were passing us. We
ascended into the clouds,
mist and rain, cresting the
bitter summit after two
painful hours. Then the
horrific descent, tea and our
point of no return.” - Barry
Doyle, l’Etape
14. A great race – The Traders’
Cup back in the day
DRIVING to Dundalk in
his van, Dylan Rafter and
myself were in good form.
We were supposed to ride
the Shay Elliott to support
Brian Lennon that morning
but an injury had ruled
him out. Without too much
debate, the two of us quickly
opted for the Traders’ Cup
instead, writes Andy Lakes.
Feeling more nervous than
usual and in an effort to
confront my inner demons,
I suggested that we go from
the gun. Dylan agreed.
Singletons that we were, the
pair of us had taken some
time off work for training
and only a few days earlier
did a lovely 100 miler (which
included an nice chowder
in Aughrim). Dylan actually
did 100 miles while I only
managed 98 miles. With
typical dedication, he cycled
a few loops near home to get
to the magical figure. We
had been training well and
felt fit. Shay Elliott’s loss was
Dundalk’s gain.
Sure enough, rolling out
of the carpark at the start
of four 15 mile laps I made
my way to the front of the
bunch. The minute the flag
dropped, I attacked. Dylan,
who had been chatting with
one of the lads, excused
himself and set off after me.
About 20 riders in total
made it into our break and
we set off at quite a gallop.
We got ourselves organised
and rode hard. At one stage I
was spinning out due to our
high speed and an agreeable
tailwind.
What quickly became
apparent was Dylan’s
strength. He was riding
very strongly and could
effortlessly cover any moves,
but he still made sure I
didn’t get too carried away
and encouraged me to keep
refueling; At one stage there
was a small break but he
didn’t ride until he was sure
I could get across. In fact, he
dropped back and gave me
a helpful push to help me
close that final gap.
With about 40 miles gone
the pace went up again. A
pal from the BH racing team
was fading but his final
effort was to help me close
another gap before dropping
out.
As the race entered its final
lap, we made a number of
efforts to get away. We broke
with a chap from one of the
northern clubs. The three
of us worked well but were
brought back by a concerted
effort from our breakaway
companions.
Once we were caught, Dylan
sat on the front with me
on his wheel. He dug deep
and pulled away. One metre
quickly became two and he
rapidly surged ahead.
A few riders tried to close
him down but I diligently
sat on the wheel of each
attacker to upset any
momentum in the group. If
the truth be told, Dylan was
more powerful than the rest
of us combined and kept
increasing his lead. Covering
for him made me feel like I
was contributing.
15. We thundered into Dundalk
for the finish and I’ll never
forget the thrill and joy of
seeing his distant figure
raising his arms in victory. It
was fantastic.
Still buzzing, I led out the
sprint for second. I was worn
out at this stage and lads
kept flying past me. Fully
realising I wasn’t going to
be in the prizes, I decided to
let my companions know I
wasn’t even trying (which
I was!). I sat up and raised
my arms in salute to the
deserving winner. I was
so tired that I’m amazed
I didn’t cause a pile up as
I trundled across the line.
Our 60-mile breakaway a
tremendous success.
Dylan got his points to
move up to first category
that day and went on to
much bigger and better
things. I took the chat show,
public appearance route
and gradually faded into
obscurity and bitterness.
I’ve had some fantastic days
on the bike but that day
stands out as one of the very
best.
“Completed the course on a sunny spring day in great
company. Talking to friends as you tick of famous and
challenging climbs one by one on a 270km route knowing
that there was food and beer at the end and a day watching
the pro’s to follow. There is something very special about
cycling your bike through a foreign city to watch the sign in
with close to 300k under your belt and a day of great sport
ahead of you. And a great day it was, despite Dan Martin’s
fall in the last corner the sun was shining, the beers were
flowing and the atmosphere was amazing. Belgium is the
home of cycling for a reason and everyone should experience
their passion for the sport for the weekend of a big race.”
Cormac O’Connor, post-La Doyenne
“I feel a distinct sense of loss today. I’m
unsure if it is that I no longer have this
challenge to aim for, that I have no focus
or line ahead of me to pedal towards.
Maybe, simply, it’s because I have no
bike under me and I’m dressed in these
odd baggy clothes. But I think it is
because yesterday I was, or at least felt,
exceptional; more than myself. Yesterday
I was a full-time rider. Today I am just
me again.”
Peter Rush, post-Alpine raid
Andy’s Advice
“Chuffed with my new
heartrate monitor, Andre
[Engeman] asked what
my resting heartrate was
and when I told him he
laughed and said it was
rubbish. He said he did
intervals at that level.
Or words to that effect. I
didn’t tell him my details
after that.” Andy Lakes
16. “One day that comes to mind is my A4 race debut in
Loughrea in February 2013.
You always hear horror stories about how A4 is a
bloodbath (a major exaggeration by the way). During
my first race I made it over the main climb of the day in
a lead group of 25, happy days. Then 5k later I hear the
screech of brakes, wheels touch and riders start falling
in front of me like dominos. I couldn’t avoid the crash, I
emerge largely unscathed, but my front wheel is a write
off and it takes me over two hours trying to get a lift back
to my car. My racing career could only get better from
there.” Fergal May
“Aside from crashing or
getting lost, the worst that I
have experienced on my bike
are solo training sessions in
early spring in 2011 getting
caught out by a deluge up
Sally Gap. I was so cold
when I got home that my legs
were numb up to the knees.
My girlfriend came in the
door to find me doing star
jumps still fully lycra clad
trying to get some circulation
going.” Cormac O’Connor
“I can’t really pinpoint any
one particularly bad day
on the bike but remember
a few gruesome ones. As a
teenager on the way back
from an evening mountain
spin I got the knock and
it took me an hour and
twenty minutes to get from
Enniskerry to Dundrum, a
trip of approximately seven
miles.
Another occasion was
when we unexpectedly
came across the extremely
splattered remains of a
Greyhound on the N81.
Without time to manoeuvre,
we all got sprayed with dog
parts as we screamed and
squealed our way through
while trying not to vomit.
Getting caught out in a
freezing thundery downpour
on an otherwise sunny day
in the bare legal minimum
of cycling attire. Exhausted
and shivering, I began
hallucinating and ranting
gibberish. I remember
approaching the Spawell and
shouting at the top of my
voice, “I DON’T CARE! IT”S
MY DECISION!!”. I have no
idea what that was about.”
Andy Lakes
17. For good measure they
have cobbled the town
centre of Stavelot. A
leg sapping 500m leads
on to the Haute Levee
which heads straight
up an uninviting dual
carriageway out of town.
It was unrelenting. About
a kilometre up I climbed
off. I was physically and
mentally jaded. I had been
going for over eight hours ,
had close to 3,000m in the
legs and another 1,700m
of climbing and 100km
of punishment staring
me in the face. I was
cramping and depressed.
I could barely stomach
any more waffles or gels. I
contemplated my options
and finally decided my
day was done. The Train
of Shame was calling
and who was I to refuse.
It was 5k downhill to the
nearest station which we
had thoughtfully noted the
previous evening. An hour
long trip back in to Liege
alone with ones thoughts
and time for personal
reflection. It was not a
happy trip.
La Doyenne was ready for chairman Brian Kilbride
in 2013. It heard him coming, and laughed as
heartily as he had over the pints that hatched the
plan to take on the 276k test; Liege-Bastogne-Liege.
I myself feel I probably
underestimated it, got my
training wrong, and then
rode badly on the day. On
checking my computer
readouts after , my average
heartrate was 130 but
there were far too many
spikes up into the red zone
too early in the day and I
ended up running out of
matches. I got as much as
I deserved. It probably is
possible to do with 6 hours
training a week- just, but
you have to do everything
right both in the lead up
and on the day. It leaves
me with a gnawing feeling
that I should come back
and do it properly next
year, but I am not sure I
would be able to manage it
even armed with this years
experience.
But this affair was
not over. He felt
finished, tamed by
those 11 famous
climbs, but a year
later he did
manage it. . .
All that remained was
the descent to Ans in the
suburbs of liege and a
further 1.5k at six per cent.
This was like downhill
compared to what had
gone before. Sadly the
route turns off 100 yards
before the left turn where
Dan Martin so tragically
came to grief the following
day and we did not get to
sprint it out. That said,
the pecking order of the
group was well and truly
known to all of us by that
stage. Rolling 5k back to
the sports centre was like a
victory lap. All the medals
had been distributed by
the time of our arrival and
they were beginning to
pack up shop. There were
bars and burger joints
and merchandising stalls
on the go but we favored
a trip back to the hotel
for the victory sip on the
street outside our hotel,
all swearing never to
undertake such a foolish
challenge again.
18. TWELVE assembled in our base in the heart of
Wexford, again hosted by Bart Curtis, patron of
cycling and Wexford’s answer to Gianni Savio,
writes Brian Kilbride.
After a cup of tea and a
review of the route, we set
out in a slightly disjointed
manner.
To say that we started
slowly would be an
understatement. Sting
would be quicker into his
rhythm. The initial road
to New Bawn was pock
marked by the winter
freezes and a group short
of its navigator headed
out for New Ross. After
a quick U turn, the flock
were reunited and were
able to recommence our
trip south into a brisk
headwind. A broken
chain necessitated a split
the group but allowed for
a brief detour round the
coast from Arthurstown to
Ballyhack and a little hill
climbing on the steep rise
up from the ferry, for those
not fixing the chain or
offering sage advice.
We were able to reform in
Ramsgrange and pressed
on in at some haste for
the turn at Hook Head. It
was a little up and down
but the trip down the
final kilometres to the
lighthouse were as unique
as ever with ocean visible
on either side of your
visual field and with the
land mass running out the
further you went.
There were big rollers
coming in at the tip of the
peninsula and we were
able to have a regroup and
rethink about pace, rhythm
and the finer points of
group riding.
We had the benefit of a
trailing wind for the first
time in two hours and it
was very welcome. The
run to Kilmore Quay
was lumpy and slowly
riders were getting
shelled out as the pace
remained consistent. A
wrong turn by the leading
group however lead to a
significant detour for the
pacesetters who arrived
in to the hotel about five
minutes after the less fit
riders with superior map
reading skills. Count the
nerds out of it at your
peril.
Hot chowder and cold
pints at the 100k mark
were drawn out for as
long as possible but
eventually we got back
on the road for the
lumpy run home on the
worst road in Ireland.
Career ending pot holes
were all around us and
kept the conversation
to a minimum and
concentration maximal
until we reached the main
road again.
There was a sprint
up the final hill to the
house which Brendan
took easily enough after
several pretenders had
their shaping cruelly
exposed.
‘Crashing waves, broken chains
and career-ending potholes’
