Rothar Routes

Cycle routes & pilgrim journeys in Ireland and Europe …..

Posts by Turlough

Rebels, Ridges & Back Roads. Two glorious Evening Spins in the Garden of Ireland.

There’s something special about cycling in the evening light—especially in County Wicklow, where every bend in the road reveals a piece of history or a sweep of mountain beauty. Over two recent evenings, I explored two routes not far from each other—each steeped in legend, rebellion, and raw, rugged charm. If you ever doubted that the past is alive in Wicklow, these spins might just convince you otherwise.

Knockananna Credit Union. Prettiest in the country!

Evening 1: Knockananna, The Billies, and the Ghosts of 1798

My first loop began in Knockananna, a village on the border with Carlow —tucked into the hills and humming with local pride. The road led me high up into Askanagap, home of Ballymanus GAA club, also fondly known as The Billies, a tribute to local 1798 rebel Billy Byrne.

Byrne wasn’t just a namesake—he was a key figure in the rebellion, fighting at Arklow, Mount Pleasant, Kilcavan, and finally Vinegar Hill in Enniscorthy.

His tragic end is remembered in memorial plaque in front of the Club. Captured in 1799, he was tried in Wicklow town on the evidence of four paid informers—Dixon, Doyle, Davis, and Bid Doolin. As the story goes, he was playing handball in the prison yard when summoned to his execution on Gallows Hill. His brother had raced from Dublin with a reprieve, only to arrive 15 minutes too late.

As I rode back toward Knockananna, the road brought me to the hauntingly beautiful Rosahane Graveyard, tucked away on a quiet hillside. Two young deer darted across the road below me—one of those small, unforgettable moments that make evening cycling in Wicklow so special.

Evening 2: Aughavannagh, Glenmalure & the Shadow of Fiach MacHugh

The second evening took me deeper into the mountains, starting from Aughavannagh, a peaceful spot nestled in the heart of Wicklow. My route looped around Ballinacor Mountain, dropped down into Greenan, and then swung left into the wide, silent majesty of Glenmalure.

This is no ordinary valley—it’s a 20km-long glacial trench, once the stronghold of the O’Byrne Clan. In 1274, they ambushed a Crown force here. More famously, in 1580, Fiach MacHugh O’Byrne crushed an English army in the Battle of Glenmalure, inflicting between 500 and 1,000 casualties in what remains one of the most decisive rebel victories in Irish history. I can only imagine how remote this place was before out modern network of roads.

At the entrance to the valley stands a huge boulder: one face honours Fiach MacHugh; the other commemorates Michael Dwyer, another 1798 rebel of legend and a native of nearby Glen of Imaal. It’s a stark reminder that these quiet roads once echoed with battle cries and coercion of the native population.

From there, a tough climb over Drumgoff brought me to a stunning final descent—one of those long, freewheeling glides that make every climb worth it—back into Aughavannagh as the evening light melted into the hills.

Both routes were rich in scenery and history. From rebel battlegrounds to glacial valleys, ancient graveyards to whispering forests, these were two great evening rides that inspired the legs and the soul!

The weather was perfect. The roads were quiet. And the hills and the locals—well, they haven’t forgotten.

Scarplands Bike Trail, Co Fermanagh

Start Point: Belcoo, Co. Fermanagh
End Point: Lough Navar Forest
Distance: 30 km (one way, linear route), 65 kms including return by local roads
Elevation Gain: 1,087 meters
Terrain: Coarse gravel, forest roads
Highlights: Megalithic tombs, upland loughs, Magho Cliffs

A couple of days after revisiting Fore, I swapped lakes for limestone and set off on a linear cycle along the Scarplands Trail, starting in Belcoo, County Fermanagh. This route is part of the Cuilcagh Lakelands UNESCO Global Geopark, and it shows.

The trail weaves through forest breaks, skirting high inland cliffs and vast open uplands. The sense of space is incredible — you’re pedalling through an ancient landscape, shaped by ice, time, and human hands over millennia. There are megalithic tombs, upland lakes, and views that stretch across Sligo, Donegal and the Atlantic Ocean in the distance. It’s raw, elemental cycling — part forest, part mountain edge.

The trail itself — remote, gritty, and windswept — was only part of the story. The real magic lay in the soundtrack and the sightings!

Cuckoos called repeatedly from the trees, their voices bouncing across the valleys with such regularity they seemed to be mocking my slow progress uphill! More elusive were the jays — flashes of blue and rust disappearing into the trees before I could fully register them. I spotted a pair of red squirrels bounding across the path ahead of me in Lough Navar, their tails like pennants vanishing into the pines. And above it all, the unmistakable, joyful swoops of returning swallows, back from Africa and clearly delighted to find the place just as they left it.

Nature wasn’t just a backdrop here — it was part of the trail.


Two rides, one common thread: they both offered that magical mix of solitude, scenery, and a deep connection to place. If you’re drawn to routes that are under the radar, rich in heritage, and just a bit wild — both Lough Sheelin and the Scarplands Trail deliver in spades. If you’re craving a route that goes beyond the sanitised greenways and into the wild and wonderful remote corners of Ireland, my last two routes are calling!

Fore by Two!

Over the past few days, I’ve been lucky enough to explore two beautiful routes by bike — both rural, both rugged, and both deeply rewarding in their own ways. Mary joined me for the jaunt out of Fore and around Lough Sheelin.

This first cycle was a return for me to beautiful Fore, Co. Westmeath, home of the famous Seven Wonders of Fore. It’s a place where ancient stones seem to whisper stories — from the water that won’t boil to the tree that won’t burn! A fittingly mystical start to a route that would take us into truly off-the-beaten-track terrain.

From Fore, we headed north, tracing a rural loop around Lough Sheelin, dipping into the quiet borderlands of County Cavan – and even a piece of Meath that juts north into a gap between Westmeath and Cavan. This is classic drumlin country — a patchwork of rolling farmland, hidden lakes, and winding boreens where the hedgerows close in and time seems to slow.

We met more cattle and sheep than cars. The roads were rough in places, but the silence and solitude more than made up for it. The lake itself was shimmering whenever it came into view, fringed with rushes and angling boats. This is the kind of ride that reminds you just how much of Ireland remains untouched by tourism. No cafes, no signs, no distractions — just rural beauty and a rhythm dictated by the road and your legs.

Truth be told the northern side of the lake from Finea was on the fairly busy road to Ballyjamesduff and wasn’t the most pleasant but we were able to get off it just before Mount Nugent. As we paused in Mount Nugent for a quick ice cream break — a rare moment of bustle after miles of quiet roads — a concerned motorist approached. He asked if we’d seen a young boy, described as carrying a rucksack, who hadn’t been seen since morning.

We hadn’t encountered anyone matching that description, but we were able to confirm he hadn’t been on the route we’d cycled, helping to narrow down the area for those searching.

It was a sobering moment. The contrast between our carefree journey and the real concern playing out nearby was striking. It was also a reminder of how these quiet, rural places — so peaceful on the surface — can carry unexpected stories and tensions. We left Mount Nugent hoping the boy would be found safe and soon.

The back roads that returned us to Fore were just perfect for cyclists; one of them a disused road which we had to ourselves.

From Rebels to Rail Trails: A Joyride Through Rural Wicklow

Today’s 28km spin through the quiet roads of south east Wicklow reminded me yet again why I love cycling in rural Ireland. I parked up at Crossbridge Church and set off into the April air with no particular hurry—just the promise of a loop that would wind me through history, hills, and the kind of scenery that stops you mid-pedal to take it all in.

My first leg brought me around by Ballycumber and Kyle, two townlands that feel suspended in time. There’s a peaceful rhythm out here—sheep in the fields, the odd tractor, and birdsong that fills the gaps where traffic might be elsewhere.

Just after Kyle, I spotted a River Ford marked on my Ordnance Survey Map and I made a short detour: a quiet stone at the roadside caught my eye: a memorial to Luke O’Toole, the GAA’s first full-time secretary. Luke served ar secretary of the GAA from 1901 to 1929; an historic time in Irish history. He would have dealt with the most tragic day in GAA History; Bloody Sunday, on 21st November 1920, in Croke Park when British Forces murdered 14 innocent people during the game between Dublin and Tipperary. It’s a simple marker, but a powerful nod to someone who helped shape Irish sporting life from this very landscape.

Onward to Ballinglen! I stopped at the bridge to read another piece of local memory etched in stone—this one erected in memory of two local brothers Philip (22) and Patrick Lacey (22) who were shot beside the bridge while returning from the Battle of Vinegar Hill on 21st June 1798. A nearby seat, unveiled in 1998 by President Mary McAleese, invites you to pause. I did just that. Sat for a moment in the quiet, the only sound the murmuring of the Derry River below, and thought of the lives and stories rooted deep in this place.

The scenery all along the route was nothing short of spectacular—mountains rising up and rolling away to the horizon, softened by spring’s early green. There’s something nourishing about being surrounded by hills; they don’t rush you, just rise steadily and remind you how rejuvenating the outdoors are for mind and body.

From there, I rolled down into Tinahely, a real hub for hill walkers with its many fantastic loops. Rather than take the road out, I picked up the old rail walk, which winds gently along a narrow wooded path toward Tomnafinnoge Wood. It’s a lovely trail—tree-lined, quiet, and full of little surprises. One of those was a ‘rag tree’ along the way, its branches fluttering with ribbons and cloth left behind by those with wishes, prayers, or memories to leave. A simple, powerful tradition still alive in the hedgerows.

Tomnafinnoge is one of the last remaining mature oak plantations in Ireland. The magnificent oaks were planted by the Fitswilliam Estate several hundred years ago and timber from the forest is said to have been used in the construction of Trinity College Dublin, King’s College Cambridge and St. Paul’s Cathedral London. During the 1980s, a public campaign by locals, politicians and artists such as U2’s ‘The Edge’ ensured the survival of the woods from total destruction and the remnants are now protected as a ‘Special Area of Conservation’ owned and maintained by the National Parks and Wildlife Service.

After Tomnafinnoge, I turned uphill toward Ballyraheen. The climb had some bite, but nothing too fierce, and the reward was a roadside audience: a herd of colourful goats, lounging and curious, as if they were expecting me. Their presence gave the whole moment a kind of comic charm. You just don’t get that on a spin around Carlow Town!

The loop closed back at Crossbridge, with 446 metres of climbing in the legs and a warm satisfaction in the soul. Not a long spin, but one rich in variety—history, beauty, solitude, and the kind of quiet moments that make rural Ireland such a joy to explore by bike.

If you’re ever looking for a route that feeds the legs and the spirit, you could do worse than this corner of Wicklow. And if you’re lucky, the goats will be out to greet you too.

Greenland Is Ours, JD Vance! – Ireland reclaims its Overseas Territories!

Yesterday, standing beside the ancient grave of Saint Brendan in Clonfert, I felt something stir—not just reverence, but revelation! As the wind moved through the trees and the moss-covered stones whispered of old voyages, it struck me with divine clarity: Greenland—and quite possibly all of North America—rightfully belongs to Ireland. Not through war or treaty, but through Brendan, who almost certainly discovered it a good 900 years before Columbus, and did so without enslaving anyone, planting flags, or raiding their gold and silver mines. And if that truth unsettles certain American senators with a penchant for lecturing the world, well… that’s just a bonus. We got there first but we were too humble to tell anyone!

According to the Navigatio Sancti Brendani, Saint Brendan and a group of monks sailed west in search of the “The Isle of the Blessed”—an allegorical tale filled with sea monsters, magical islands, and flaming mountains. Some people, especially in modern times, have speculated that this was actually a description of a transatlantic voyage, possibly to North America. It’s no accident he is patron saint of the U.S. Navy! Tim Severin’s 1970s expedition in a replica leather boat (The Brendan Voyage) showed such a journey was physically possible, using medieval technology. He successfully sailed from Ireland to Newfoundland via the Hebrides, Faroe Islands, Iceland, and Greenland. So hands off JD Vance, we’re laying claim to those rare minerals!

Joking aside, we’d a great cycle yesterday starting in Banagher and heading over to Clonfert along quiet country lanes. The ancient Romanesque doorway is a sight to behold with its intricate carvings. Clonfert Cathedral, in the tiny quiet village of Clonfert, County Galway, is a true gem of Irish history dating back to the 6th century. Founded by St. Brendan, it stands as a testament to ancient ecclesiastical prominence.

The beautiful round arched west doorway at Clonfert Cathedral is a lovely relic of Irish Romanesque decorative architecture built A.D. 563. Monasteries flourished as centres of learning and sent missionaries to many European countries, bringing with them the classical literature of Greece and Rome. Reports in the 9th century suggested that anyone who spoke Greek on the continent was an Irish person or had been taught by an Irish person. Truly, the Land of Saints and Scholars!

Clonfert Cathedral
Clonfert Romanesque Doorway

Places like Clonfert helped preserve Irish Catholic Identity after the Cromwellian Conquest of Ireland,. immortalised in the awful phrase “To hell or to Connacht”. This was one of the most brutal and traumatic periods in Irish history with ten of thousands of Irish displaced from their home and something like 11 million acres of lands were confiscated from Catholics – by the end of the 1650’s 90% of the land was in Protestant hands. It was a form of ethnic and cultural cleansing that did untold damage to the Irish language.

We weren’t long before we were cycling past Brackloon Castle, one of Ireland’s oldest and smallest castles, now restored and lived in! Built in the 1500s by the O Madden Family, who too were dispossessed by the English… While St Brendan set sail west in search of heavenly peace but instead discovered America, Cromwell followed up a 1,000 years later sending our ancestors west into Connacht in search of survival. If Brendan discovered America, Cromwell helped us populate it with wave after wave or Irish migration! ICE are at the airports today to make sure no more get to follow ‘the American Dream’… mind you there’s many a Yank yearning for travel in the opposite direction today!

Meelick Church was the next stopping off point, reputedly the oldest church still in use in Ireland today! Meelick weir is a stone’s throw away, if you’re good at throwing stones and it’s a beautiful 300 metre curved walkway / cycleway. It’s part of the Hymany Way and the Beara-Breifne Way which we followed a few years ago on our Malin to Mizen cycle. I love coming down here!

Meelick weir walkway on the Shannon.

This links to an island in the Shannon river and Victoria Lock, which was constructed in the 1840s. Really picturesque views on it with the roar of the water deafening beneath you. A great place for a picnic!

Victoria Lock looking northwards
Victoria Lock
The River Shannon south of Victoria Lock.

Bikes can easily be walked across the Lock and that brings you into a lovely route close to the Shannon Callows – a great place to do some bird watching and a nice easy loop back though Lusmagh to Banagher.

You could say the landscape is flat and boring but there’s beauty in that too and there’s a real touch of the west of Ireland as soon as you cross the Shannon at Banagher. Worth noting too that the 3 provinces of Munster, Connacht and Leinster meet right here at this point on Victoria Lock!

Cycling through the countryside while mentally travelling through the centuries, wondering if St Brendan had quads like these! Another great day in the saddle!