A Timely Reminder

The photo accompanying this latest blog was taken back in the summer for a friend who followed my travels on 'The Raleigh' with great interest, but who alas sadly never got the chance to see it.

This has served to remind me, and I really shouldn't need reminding, of two things in particular.
1. Seize the day, don't put off until tomorrow that which you can do today and...
2. Never take life for granted.

This time of the year is traditionally a time for being with family and friends but there are many for whom this Christmas will only bring the still empty place at the table and a time of continual sorrow and sad reflection..... and my heart goes out to them.

From the Ashes

The news from Manchester this morning is yet another reminder of the acts of sheer cruelty that are carried out in this world and, as is so often the case, against those who can't protect themselves.
However, out of the darkness of such cruelty invariably comes a beacon of honest to goodness, human decency.

I've often heard the word hero loosely bandied about when referring to, let's use an example here......sports people.
Does trying to put a small ball into a hole for ridiculous amounts of money, or kicking a ball around a patch of grass for ninety minutes, again for absolutely crazy money, make someone a hero.......what nonsense, of course it doesn't.

To me a hero is someone who does or achieves something for a greater good, to help others and simply make our world a better place.....quite often putting their lives on the line in the process.

There have been countless tales of unbelievable acts of heroism down the years, and the stories of sheer bravery, kindness and of people uniting as one for a common goal, coming from the ashes of the tragedy at the Manchester and Cheshire Dogs' Home overnight, bear testimony to the goodness and courage that exists within the human spirit.  

'Bravery doesn't mean you aren't scared, it means you go anyway.........' 

The Passenger

There we were the other week, 'The Raleigh' and I, toodling through the Co. Down countryside when suddenly I was aware we had an intruder in our midst.
Yes a foreign body, in this case a wasp, had lodged itself in one of the vents in my cycling helmet.

This does happen on occasions with all manner of flying objects, especially during the summer months, but usually a tilt and slight shake of the head is enough to dislodge any non-paying passengers.
However, this wee git was along for the ride, or so I thought.......

300 yards or so up the road from the point where it hopped on, it decided to hop off again and with an almighty buzz it wriggled itself free and decided, as a way of thanking me for saving it the bother of flying 300 yards, that it would sting me on the forehead.
Now, as anyone who has ever had the misfortune to be stung by one of these stripey blighters will testify..... it is an altogether rather painful experience!!

My poor noggin was aching and before long I was doing my best impression of a baby unicorn but, in true John Wayne fashion, I rode on and upon my arrival at home I reached for the trusty Tea Tree Oil and soon all was well with the world again.


Roll on the colder weather............

Time to say Goodbye

Not a cycling related post on this occasion my friends, but one which I feel compelled to write.

As weeks go, it's fair to say that for us as a family this past one confined to history, hasn't been one of our better ones. It was a week when we finally had to admit defeat and say good-bye to our beloved Lucy.

Every so often in life, if we are fortunate, a real gem comes into our lives and for us this gem came in the form of dear Lucy.
Sweet and with an endearing gentle nature, there were times I swear she could talk to you.
She really hadn't a bad bone in her body, and even at the last when she was in obvious pain and discomfort that nature never wavered.
In her last days when we stepped outside and, despite our protests, she would still struggle up on to her feet to greet us because that was the type of her, loyal and friendly to the end.

When we took her to the vets there was always that glimmer of hope that it was nothing serious and could be fixed.
Alas it was not to be and when the phone call came, that deep down I suppose I had been dreading, I took the unbearably difficult, but correct decision to end her suffering.
There was an extremely slim chance of medication perhaps extending her days a little bit more but, taking on board what the vet was saying to me, it would have only been selfish on my part to go down this road....it was only putting off the inevitable.

As anyone who has been faced with this awful dilemma will testify, it is not a decision to take lightly and one which ultimately leads to feelings of, I suppose, remorse and regret.

However for me these feelings are tempered with the knowledge that ultimately the right thing was done for Lucy, and her suffering is no more.

As a rescue dog, we take consolation in the fact that Lucy's last years were the happiest of her life. 

I thought the world of her, and it's not an exaggeration to say that she got me through some dark times in the past two years.

I miss, and will always miss her dreadfully.
Many, many happy times were spent in her company, and for that I feel blessed and am truly thankful.

In closing, I know I'll never see her again, well at least not in this life.
But my earnest wish is that, perhaps like some form of Native American creed, Lucy is now........and forever, running free.

Farewell dear, sweet girl.............

Wet. Wet. Wet..........

In conditions best described as monsoon like, 'The Raleigh' 8806 and I splashed our way round the Co. Down roads last night, and I enjoyed every second of it.
Now, in the past I might have briefly questioned my sanity whilst dreaming of a hot mug of Bovril, but now I was just savouring every drop of rain that fell on my helmet covered noggin.
I think it all stems (no pun intended) from coming out the other side of OHS and thus having a finer appreciation of the simple things in life.
Things like the rain, the wind, the bird's singing, good old fresh air and last but by no means least, the humble Kit Kat chocolate bar.
What I suppose amounts to life saving/changing surgery has the tendency to do that to a person, and things that seemed important beforehand just don't seem quite as important now.
There's a saying that 'life is for living' and it really is true.
If all this sounds a bit sentimental or has anyone reaching for the bucket that's ok and perhaps understandable, but alas I can make no apology, because as Bruce Hornsby would say.....
'that's just the way it is.'

If Walls Could Talk.

The quaint townland of Ashfield near Dromore was a recent destination during a 'run' on The Raleigh.

Tucked in amongst the trees behind the Team Corsa at Killysorrell, is the rather lovely Ashfield House with the adjoining outbuildings, which saw action during the days of the once thriving Linen Industry.

An 18th Century, Three-Bay Two-Storey 'Gentleman's Residence', Ashfield House is the oldest surviving house of the Lindsay family of Tullyhenan and was built by Maurice Lindsay in the 1760's.

His son David set-up and established a manufacturing business in 1828 for weaving heavy fabrics by hand loom, and by 1839 he employed 950 weavers (mostly working in their own homes with materials supplied by the Lindsays) in the manufacture of linens, unions and cottons.

Prior to this, David bought his linens at country markets and had them bleached, with commission being charged on over half his products by selling agents at The Linen Hall in Dublin at over 3%, manufacturing his own linen proved to be a more profitable enterprise for David.

After David Lindsay's death in 1859, the business was carried on by his son Maurice who sadly died at a young age (35), and Ashfield House, Ashfield Village (21 houses) and Lands were sold at auction at 2pm on 26th March 1878 in the Downshire Arms Hotel in Banbridge.

The house is still occupied to this day and the property is a beautiful place of quiet solitude.

Not Quite An Antique.

'The Raleigh' Does The Antiques Roadshow

Tiddling through Hillsborough the other day on The Raleigh, out of the corner of my good eye I spotted a crowd of peeps carrying all manner of old items into the castle grounds. 

This can possibly mean two things I thought to myself.
1. A cry had gone out for items to be donated to the castle or...
2. There was an antique valuation taking place.

Well of course it was the latter, and in transpired that the BBC Antiques Roadshow, a programme that has provided perfect Sunday evening TV viewing for many a year was in town, or in this case village.

Now my trusty steed might be almost 30 years young, but the old girl is not quite an antique yet.

Alas the same cannot be said of her owner who was valued at the princely sum of 20p, or at a stretch possibly £1 if the wind is blowing the right direction.
 

Down by The Mary Peters Track

A while back 'The Raleigh' and I were on the outskirts of Belfast when I decided, on a whim, to call in at the Mary Peters Track. 
I have some happy memories of this place, particularly the balmy summer evenings as a teenager trying to out-sprint my dad (and failing miserably time after time).

I haven't been here since the mid-nineties when I photographed the Les Jones Memorial Games, which included such notables of the athletics world as Linford Christie, Sally Gunnell, Sonia O'Sullivan and Colin Jackson etc, and to be honest very little has changed, although the track is now an eight lane one and the stand in the background is also a new addition.The venue, opened in 1976, is a natural amphitheatre at the south end of the Queen's University Malone Playing Fields and it has a real charm to it, sat as it is in 30 acres of conifer woodland with a network of forest and mountain bike trails surrounding it and leading to the Lagan Towpath and Shaws Bridge.
The silence of the area contrasts perfectly with the nearby hustle and bustle of the City of Belfast.

All Saints’

During a recent 40 miles jaunt, 'The Raleigh' and I stopped off at the Parish Church of All Saints’ Eglantine, near Lisburn.

Originally built as a private chapel for the Mulholland family of Eglantine House as a memorial to St Clair Kelburn Mulholland, one of the family who founded the York Street Spinning Mills in Belfast, and his son, also named St Clair.

The church is approached through a group of twelve closely cut yew trees known as the twelve apostles.

During the Second World War, the church was surrounded by buildings, which were part of the Long Kesh aerodrome that stretched to Sprucefield.

Despite being situated relatively close to the M1 motorway, it's a quiet place for reflection and at the rear of the church is a well-kept graveyard where twenty-one Commonwealth Air Force Men who were based at Long Kesh and who lost their lives during the war, were laid to rest.

The Butterflies

It's often been said that the arrival of spring sees the roads and pavements etc littered with more than the usual amount of cyclists, runners and walkers, or 'Butterflies' as they are affectionately known.

Whilst I agree there are many people who only come out to play when the weather is fine (hence the butterfly tag) I do however tend to take a more pragmatic approach to this annual phenomenon.

There are folk for whom a particular health problem for example might not be conducive to exercising in the colder, darker, days of autumn/winter, or folks who don't have the time to get out and put in the miles, particularly in the darker evenings and after a day's graft.

So next time some of you hardy peeps pass or meet a 'butterfly', remember there might just be a reason you don't pass or meet them when the days aren't as pleasant........

'To Belfast's Salty Waters'..................

From a fast moving stream at it's source in the Dromara Hills near my home at Slieve Croob, the River Lagan 'river of the low-lying district" is a major river here in Northern Ireland.
From Dromara it continues on a lonely and at times busy 40 miles journey to Belfast through Dromore, Donaghcloney and Lisburn before entering Belfast Lough.

Looking towards East Bridge Street and the Titanic Quarter, this shot of my trusty steed was taken near the former Gasworks site in Belfast.
Visible in the background are the famous Harland & Wolff twin shipbuilding gantry cranes (Samson and Goliath) which are situated at Queen's Island in the city.

Springtime in Belfast.

A lovely spring day in the City Centre, as 'The Raleigh' hits Belfast........

The Norman Trail (Part 1)

The arrival of the Normans in Ulster brought with it dramatic changes in the landscape of Ulster, particularly in Counties Antrim and Down.
Fortifications were soon constructed within the conquered land, along with abbeys and churches to meet the spiritual needs of the people.
County Down is particularly rich in such sites and this one, an Anglo-Norman Motte and Bailey just south of Lisburn between Legacurry and Ravernet, is a fine example.

A lot of these impressive structures were strategically placed near water and the Ravernet one is no exception sitting as it does near the local river.
This particular fortress, originally an oval earthwork dating back to the 10th-12th centuries AD was re- modelled by the Normans in the late 12th or 13th century AD with the addition of a motte and modifications to the timber palisade defences.

1961 excavations revealed parts of wooden and stone buildings in the bailey enclosure and slighter structures outside to the east.
Also found were a collared urn with a cremation burial.

What a Friend....

The Old Schoolhouse at Mullan's Corner just outside Dromore.

Situated on the A1 dual carriageway just south of Dromore, the derelict building is a well known landmark in the area. However Roads Service plans for the improvement of this particular junction have put the old schoolhouse under threat of demolition.

The building has at least one historical note of interest as it’s widely believed the poet Joseph Scriven taught at the school.

Who is Joseph Scriven I hear some of you bellow from your keyboard.

Born in nearby Banbridge in 1819, (his baptismal entry is recorded in Seapatrick Parish Church, Banbridge where his father, Captain John Scriven of the Royal Marines was Church Warden on two occasions) Joseph Scriven was described as 'one who lived the Christian life of service to his fellows'.
Tragically his fiancée accidentally drowned in 1845, the night before they were to be married and the grief-stricken young man moved to Canada.
There he again found love, but again tragedy struck as the young woman, whom Joseph was due to marry, suddenly fell ill and succumbed to pneumonia.
He then devoted the rest of his life to helping others.........

In 1855, while staying with his friend James Sackville, he received news from Ireland of his mother being terribly ill. He then wrote a poem to comfort his mother called "Pray Without Ceasing" which would later be set to music and become one of the world's best loved hymns.....
‘What a friend we have in Jesus.’

As good a reason as any for saving the old schoolhouse at Mullan's Corner.......

Turbo Man

With time restrictions this morning, I opted to do a 40 minute session on the turbo instead of hitting the road.
Now anyone who has used a turbo will know that whilst it is a good winter training aid, it can nevertheless be boredom personified.

Keeps the legs spinning and the heart pumping though, so it's not all bad.

Donard

The highest peak in Northern Ireland Slieve Donard, part of the famous Mourne Mountains as they 'sweep down to the sea'..........as the bold Percy once penned.

Nature bows to 'The Raleigh'

This tree just couldn't cope, such was the force laid down as I rode by today On the Road with 'The Raleigh'. ;-) 

Target HR

At Cardiac Rehab we've established a good target heart rate for the old ticker at around the 150bpm range which gives a good pointer for recovery etc.

Onwards and upwards....... gasp, cough, wheeze ;-)

Blizzard Conditions.....Pah!!

As my trusty steed and I headed for home today, my eyes were drawn to the pending mini-blizzard coming in our direction, and very soon said mini-blizzard decided to introduce itself.

Did I care..... did I 'eck as like', as the say in something called 'Corrie' (or so I'm told).
There are folks less fortunate who would give anything to be out in those conditions!!.........

Square Wheel Blues.

Anyone who rides a bike will know there are days you feel as though the wind is constantly in your back, alas there are others where it seems the bike is fitted with square wheels!!

Recently the latter was one such day, but let me hasten to add dear readers that this is in no way attributable to my trusty Raleigh but rather the sluggishness of the author.

However what keeps us going on such a day is the knowledge that for every one like this, there are many more better ones just up the road.

Cycle is go!!

The first Cardiac Rehab session has been good, my heart was pushed to 60% of it's MHR and coped well with the effort.

It's been decided to plan ahead for the charity cycle!!

So far, so good.

Cardiac Rehab assessment in The Royal went well, next week it's my first session and a clearer picture will become evident if the cycle is go!!

The first step.......

Cardiac Rehab assessment in the morning, the first step towards  'Cycling for Charity'.............

Waterproofs Required......

Downpatrick Railway Station on a really cold, really wet day in early January. #ohjoy