ST. TIERNAN’S CYCLING CLUB30TH ANNIVERSARY

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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

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

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’GradyComm. 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

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.

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.

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

“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

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“During our rrrrrrrrr cocococococococoooococococococooooocooococooococooococcoocoooocococoococcococccocccccccocooffeffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffffff e shop stop we gleanedddddddddddd dddddddddddddddddddddddddddddddd sosososossososoooosossossososooooososososooossooossossssssssoossssssooosssosoommemememmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmememmmmemmmmmmmemmmmmmememmmmemeeee important nuggets ofofoffffffffoffffffffffoffffoffffff information firstly Dave

slowly found some colour in the greys that rested outside.” BaB rry Doyle

“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.

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

“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

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

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.

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 helaughed and said it wasrubbish. He said he didintervals at that level.Or words to that effect. Ididn’t tell him my detailsafter that.” Andy Lakes

“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

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.

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’