And Sunday comes around; we lose an hour, as Spring leaps forward, in our heads its 6.30, in reality its 7.30. Still there’s no let up in the cold snap that stunts growth and holds the season to ransom. Undeterred, we gather on the square for 795’s monthly spin. David C calls us the magnificent seven…all wrapped up.. “We must be mad”..Even the sheep turn to stare, and think we’re fuckin mad..
But on we cycle. Once more skirting Mt Leinster Slipping down through Ballymurphy, turning left for St Mullins. The wind a constant in our faces. John D calling the shots. Easy in one another’s company. St Mullins 40k, and the quaintest little village on the banks of the Barrow. We pull in to The Old Grain Store for oven baked scones, home made jam and fresh whipped cream.. Heaven! Heaven!
“Can you swim in that river”
“Ye can if you have a black wet suit..”
“Jesus, they never stop…”
On up through White Mountain, and its broken roads, suited more to a mountain bike and Dave C’s crew. Back into Kiltealy. I offer to lift Lorraine into a wheely bin to empty her bladder, but she’s having none of it. We choose the long way home with a wind assisted push up over the nine stones. No hanging around on it’s summit as we face into a lung crushing descent down into Bunclody. Where we keep the farewells short and sweet, frozen to our core. Heading quickly for home for a warm shower and a feed of Easter eggs…..
Late in the afternoon all warm and snug and full of chocolate, looking back on the spin, reflecting on a very satisfying 90k covered, and the company and the oven baked scones …Isn’t it the simple things in life that make life beautiful…