Every time I go out on the bike I see something new, or rather something old that I see for the first time! There is no other mode of transport that opens the mind and the eyes to little gems of history that otherwise are passed unnoticed. Yesterday I had a great spin out through Ballylinan and Barrowhouse, I stopped in Ballylinan and noticed an inscription on the side of the entrance stone to Grace Avenue. The inscription paid tribute to to one William Russell Grace, formerly of Ballylinan, who left Ireland in the 1840s, travelled to Peru to establish an Irish agricultural community, returned home and then went to the States where he became the first Irish American Catholic Mayor of New York! He held office, lost it at the next election but regained it at the following election and in his second term received the Statue of Liberty as a gift from France! Isn’t that an amazing little snippet of history. I had no idea about until I happened by chance to stop and read the feint inscription on the entrance stone! The weather was incredibly mild and I got a lovely 48kms done on the quietest of back roads.
Today took me in the opposite direction; while out in my sisters’ house on Christmas night, someone mentioned the Alpaca Farm at Augha. In all my cycles around the Nurney plateau, I hadn’t come across this Alpaca Farm, which I see on Google Maps is the ‘ Tinryland Alpaca Farm! I found it easy enough and could see them well in off the road but was disappointed they weren’t wearing hooped jerseys!
It was another lovely mild morning, even if a little misty at times and I headed on down to Dunleckney Graveyard, where I could see that TC Clarke, who lives beside it was having a gathering of the clan! A great footballing family. Into Muinebheag and out to Royal Oak, where I swung a left for Wells graveyard. One of the best kept old graveyards in the county – it wasn’t always so as the story board recounts the deterioration in the graveyard with ‘pigs, sheep and goats all using the headstones as scratching posts! Records show a church here as far back as 1262 AD and there is a well maintained Church ruin still standing. There are headstones dating back to the 1700s and it is still an active graveyard. It’s a very tranquil picturesque setting and you could hardly be buried in a better place!
I then crossed the old Kilkenny road and headed up a bóithrín in the direction of Milebush. Now that was a steep steep climb, with gradient reaching 15% at one point; no wonder Michael Meaney was always so fit! Mind you looking at the Ordnance Survey Map, I think he could have played for Kilkenny too! As I climbed up out of the Barrow Valley, I entered what appeared to be Carlow’s ‘Land of the Long White Cloud’ and visibility became quite poor as I made it to Baunreagh, subject of a possible new wind farm, which does not appear to be welcome in the area; there are a lot of houses dotted around here and it’s easy understand the concerns.
I was again glad I was on the bike as I finally saw the sign for the 1798 Camp Field, where Father Murphy and the Wexford Rebels were camped out during the rising. What an epic march they made from Vinegar Hill, were badly beaten at the Battle of Kilcumney, got up as far as Castlecomer and forced back down country before he met his dreadful end at the hands of the Yeomen in Tullow, where he was stripped, flogged, hanged, decapitated, his corpse burnt in a barrel of tar and his head impaled on a spike in the Main Square. Hard to forget or forgive those terrible deeds.
Visibility was getting poorer and I headed for home along the Ridge Drive, turning back towards Clogrenanne and then sharp left for the Cruachán and back through Graiguecullen. 54 kms in total, with 700 metres of climbing. Another great day in the saddle!
“A Zen teacher saw five of his students returning from the market, riding their bicycles. When they arrived at the monastery and had dismounted, the teacher asked the students, “Why are you riding your bicycles?”
The first student replied, “The bicycle is carrying this sack of potatoes. I am glad that I do not have to carry them on my back!” The teacher praised the first student. “You are a smart boy! When you grow old, you will not walk hunched over like I do.”
The second student replied, “I love to watch the trees and fields pass by as I roll down the path!” The teacher commended the second student, “Your eyes are open, and you see the world.”
The third student replied, “When I ride my bicycle, I am content to chant nam myoho renge kyo.” The teacher gave his praise to the third student, “Your mind will roll with the ease of a newly trued wheel.”
The fourth student replied, “Riding my bicycle, I live in harmony with all sentient beings.” The teacher was pleased and said to the fourth student, “You are riding on the golden path of non-harming.”
The fifth student replied, “I ride my bicycle to ride my bicycle.” The teacher sat at the feet of the fifth student and said, “I am your student.”’
Zen proverb
I can so relate to this when I go on a long cycle, as I did on Saturday, when I took to my bike cycling to Wexford Town from Carlow. Believe it or not I was going to a 70th birthday party (she looks 30 and I put it down to all the hill walking she does and of course her doting husband!). Every journey brings so many benefits; I love to look over the hedgerows, up onto the hills, down at the fast flowing Slaney and marvel at the beauty of it all. Something that cannot be truly appreciated from inside a tin box travelling at 100kms per hour. And getting lost in the art of cycling. The simple act of cycling for cycling sake.
The network of local roads is so expansive, it’s possible to go anywhere on your bike and feel perfectly safe. Saturday’s route took me out via Kellistown, a tough little hill with the old church ruin commanding great views of the surrounding countryside.
Kellistown Church
From Kellistown its cross country towards Aghade. Fr. Murphy, of Old Kilcormac, made his last journey across these roads and the route is commemorated with signposting. The events of 1798 resulted in a lot of death and destruction in the south east principally in Wexford and Carlow and as I was heading for Wexford it was nice to cross the path.
And the Yeos at Tullow took Father Murphy
and burned his body upon a rack
Boolavogue by Patrick Jospeh McCall
I had a route on mind to head via Ardattin to Clonegal but when I met a fine gaggle of geese at Aghade, forcing me to ask the question…. ‘goosey goosey gander, where shall I wander?‘ Interestingly one theory about the origins of this nursery rhyme is that it refers to Catholic persecution in England which forced parishioners to hide their priests, similar to here during the time of the penal laws and entirely apt when we talk about Fr, Murphy! So they stopped me in my tracks and I had a rethink, deciding to head over by Altamont Gardens and on to Kilbride Cross where a recent memorial caught my eye while driving but where it was too dangerous to stop.
Goosey Goosey Gander, where shall I wander?.
On the last few occasions I drove past Kilbride Cross, I spotted a memorial to 9/11, it seemed to consist of a large poster with all the names of those killed in the Twin Towers and an American Flag alongside the Carlow and Dublin Flags and another which I couldn’t make out until today. The poster was gone unfortunately when I got to the Cross but it was nice to see plaques honouring Kevin Barry, the 1916 Rising and Michael Fay of Altamont who was killed in the Ballymurphy Massacre of 1921. The mysterious flag was a United States Marine Corps flag! Not sure why.
Kilbride Cross
By changing direction and heading to Kilbride, it meant an unpleasant 800 metres on the busy main road. I was glad to turn left just before the White Mills pub and take a nice local road down to the River Slaney at Kilcarry Bridge, on of our favourite swimming spots when the lads were young.
It’s only a short few kilometres from here to one of the prettiest villages in Carlow, Clonegal. Full of history, Clonegal is worth a weekend ramble. The first sight you meet are the Weavers Cottages and on the opposite side of the road is a small garden featuring a number of interesting artefacts.
Continue down the street and look out for this fascinating gateway!
This stone is in the Arched entrance to the yard beside what once was the Church of Ireland Presbytery and earlier the home of the Captain of the Yeomen In 1798 this was the home of Captain De Renzy and the stone marked an execution site. The hangman who carried out the executions was Bob Young. Chilling reminder of the persecution our ancestors suffered…. and of course close by is Huntington Castle, well worth a couple fo hours to explore both the castle and gardens. It has a fascinating history but today I was just passing by.
Entrance to Huntington Castle.
The Derry River flows through Clonegal and forms the county boundary with Wexford and divides the village of Clonegal in two. The part of the village in Wexford is known as The Watch House. The name comes from the fact that when the 1798 Rising commenced a hut was built at the Water House cross which was manned by Yeomen or soldiers day and night. A person bringing an animal to the fair of Carnew had to get a permit at the Watch House cross, and if he failed to sell he had to get another permit from the Yeomen in Carnew to bring the animal home.
I’ve always loved the colours of the Derry River…
I turned right in the Watch House and pointed the front wheel in the direction of Kildavin, all the while admiring the views of the specimen trees across the river on the grounds of the Castle. In no time I was at the Geata na nDeor.
Another sad reminder of our troubled past.
The back roads in Carlow are superb; all of them are well surfaced but that does not seem to be the case in Wexford and the further I travelled the worse the surfaces became. Thankfully my Giant Tough Road is made for just about every surface; I wouldn’t dream of taking a road bike on these roads. Its a lovely scenic route through the Slaney Valley and that more than makes up for the bumpy ride. I was able to avoid Bunclody and instead take a quiet road through Clohamon all the way to Enniscorthy. The great thing about the back roads is there is always something to stop and stare at.
This beautiful thatch cottage was once the local post office in Ballycarney
I took a long way round to get into Enniscorthy to avoid the main road and truth be told I was just barely hanging in at this point. So I was glad to finally make it to the Bus Stop on Abbey Quay. Sitting outside having a reviving snack and was glad to meet with Wexford goalie Conor Swaine and have a chin wag about our clashes in recent years! The route continued to provide reminders of 1798 as I head up towards Vinegar Hill and cross country towards Oilgate. I was surprised when I came across this as I didn’t know such a facility existed!
Unfortunately the road was blocked just here and I had no option but to retrace my steps down the hill and head out onto the busy main road. Time was pushing on and I had to up the effort to make the party in time! I was to finally catch sight of Ferrycarrig and head into Wexford Town. The sun finally broke through as it had been promising all day!
FerrrycarrigYellow bellied giraffe, only found in Wexford..Believe it or believe it not!
Wexford Town is always a great spot to visit and I enjoyed cycling down along the Quayside.
Kerry fishing boat tied on the quays.
It was a long 87 kms but full of interesting sights and with plenty of stops for photos it was a great Saturday spin; in between stops, I did as the fifth Zen student did; I rode my bike to ride my bike.
