Dublin to Sligo

There are few moments in life that I would cherish for the rest of my life. Especially when the cause of that moment is dedicated to my real life hero of my life, My Dad. Cycling , since my days I can remember is very close to my heart.  Never has any fall from a bike ever deterred from me from showing off by pulling off stunts on my bike in front of other kids. Most of my adult life even while I was working, I always used to ride a bike for the near by commute. All who knew me , knew I was more of a bicycle loving person. I have had three bicycles stolen from me in Dublin, but that never stopped me from going for another one.
Here's the story about an event that I took part in. An event to remember. A feat that defines me.A challenge that strengthened me. My very good friend, or more so a person who I would without an inkling of thought call my brother brought up this topic about an event . A cycling event. From west coast to east coast of this beautiful Emerald Island. More so this event was a Charity event to raise funds for Cancer research. How could I ever pass on this. The event and the cause both very I feel very connected to. I and Mihir signed up instantly, instinctively. Six weeks to go and first thing we had to do is train. Mihir had a race to go to and he was training at gym, but I was more of a runner and that's all i kept to. One thing was evident. I needed a bike, a road bike. What I had was a mountain bike and that was not suitable for any long distance cycling. My cycling mate and I spent three weekends cycling to nearby towns but that was no small distance by itself. Once to Bray, which was 40 kms, the next weekend a little further out to Grey stones which was 50 kms and the last one was to Wicklow which was 70 kms. All of this on a bike that I had borrowed from my good friend Shane. It was no racer but , it was a commuter bike with race profile tyres. It was much lighter than mine and did the job quite well. Mihir on the other hand went ahead and purchased a brand new high spec bike for a bag full of money. Our times were good enough. My running training did me good. It did look like I had enough cardio strength to cope with the endurance this challenge demanded.
Time had come to raise the funds. seven hundred euros had to be raised and Mihir and I thought a cake sale at work was an excellent idea. We also planned to sell Raffle tickets for four prizes. Each prize associated with the cycling theme. With support from our bosses and the best team admin ever we set up one on 6th of June. Posters were all put up and between few of us we had agreed to bake few cakes. My Mrs and I had very little experience in baking cakes. But what had to be done had to be done. So we set off on the 5th and to our surprise we pulled it off. Baked banana cake and a large chocolate chip cake.

Thursday morning as Catherine started to lay out the cakes in the coffee area, more and more cakes were brought out. Some of them, who we hardly spoke to took the time and effort to make and bring it home. I felt very humbled by their gesture. Before we knew it we had more than fifteen cakes for sale. People from all floors started to pour in and the Raffel tickets was selling even hotter than the cakes. Our team mates donated generously for our cause and by the end of the day we were more than delighted to count the last cent to reach a grand total of seven hundred Euros. We did not expect this to happen at all.But very glad that it did.
I bought padded cycling shorts and water bottle and cages for them, saddle bags for the bike. The bike was serviced and it was kitted out with the accessories all ready to go. The big day had arrived. Seventh of June on a fine Saturday morning is when it all starts.

Water bottles filled up, Tyre pressure double checked, Awakward shorts worn.saddle bags loaded, backpack packed with stuff I need for the weekend. I agreed to rendezvous with Mihir bhai at the city center at half eight. We had a long ten kilometer cycle to the hotel where the rest of the participants would meet up. We reached there, and to our surprise we were the only ones from Dublin.

The rest all were from Co.Sligo who traveled the previous night and stayed up in West county Hotel for a good night rest.  All of them were warm to welcome us, We were handed our jerseys to be worn on the second day. Everyone else had bikes that were proper race bikes. I was the only one with a a six year old bike which did have race profile tyres and that's about it. The straight handle bars did raise a few eyebrows which meant " are you really sure you want do cycle all the way to Sligo with that?" There is nothing that was going to deter me at that time, My only way was to go ahead. Mark , the main main who is an AIB man from Sligo greeted us and after a briefing to the team and a group snap we were set to go. First stop was at Maynooth.

Just Twenty five kilometers, but it was a challenging bit at that. It had the steepest inclines some with a gradient of 30 degrees for a good three hundred meters. Narrow by lanes which ran my the humble dodder did make for some memorable sceneries. I knew very well then, that this view is only going to get better as we go along. As we cycled up in twos we got just enough time to chat with fellow cyclists. We exchanged our interests and our passion for cycling. What we do for living and why take up this even was all a point of discussion that made the miles go by easy. After some tea and snacks we stared off again. The next stop thirty five kilometers ahead. The Knees had begun to complain but nothing can be larger than will power.

We had three support crew with us. One was a paramedic team, One a bike mechanic who carried tools and spares. The last an haulage van which carried out luggage and food. The last was our pace van . We had a mixed bag of experienced cyclists. Very few had done this before, but most of them new. Some have trained, some not so much , some not at all. The first fifty kilometers after the first stop let the cyclists loose. The experienced ones keep up in the lead while some were in the left behind. The Paramedic van and the Garry Cycles van(one of the sponsorers) always stayed behind the last of the cyclists. That made sure no one was left behind. That sense of assurance made anyone feel safe. Getting lost some where along the way can definitely add a lot to the mental pressure. Given that the road signs on this island is not that great, having anyone of the cyclists in visible distance was a great assurance. At one point we were very close to taking the wrong route. only with the corner of my eye did I see some a bright jersy go by and both the vans were behind me; Yes I was the last one. We course corrected and cycled along to catch up the group at the end of fifty kilometers. It was sandwich time. Tanked up next stop ninety kilometers ahead. As I cycled along my new cycling mates, the questions about my home country did come up. No one meant to offend me in anyone, but their questions very genuine. Questions about the rape crimes in India was the most prominent. Its kind of embarrassing having to answer ,but my only way I could respond was "In a land of more than a billion people the probability of having headcases like that are proportionally high". My brother was no where to been seen along the route.

He seemed to be stuck in a race mode. I let him be. I wanted to finish the event in a graceful manner that's all.  I did observe the fellow cyclists about the riding technique and realised that most of the stay in a slightly higher gear (easier) most of the time, this does mean more cadence but lesser power strokes. I was doing exactly the opposite, going as early as I can to lower gears . More power strokes lesser cadence. That was the reason I was lagging behind the group.  There was a Ninety kilometer stop at Longford. Energy was low, But we had further sixty kilometers to Rosscommon. The energy gels had to come out and I was hydrating myself more often on the move. The route was a mixed bag of motorway and side roads.

The earlier was the best sections since the tarmac was smooth and straight. All I had to do was lookup once and then keep the head down keeping an eye on the front wheel and the yellow markers. Make sure they are parallel and keep the cadence constant. That started to improve my pace timings. I stuck with few of them for a good bit of the final forty kilometers.

When Lorraine told me, "That yellow building is the hotel Badri" it was music to my ears.

I saw my team mates gathered in front of Hannon's. One hundred and fifty kilometers done and my legs were pushed to the limits. The previous highest ever was 70 kilometers in a single day and I have just doubled that!. It was eight hours since we started off and out of that we were moving for six hours. The bikes were taken care off by the staff and they did a fantastic job at that. Mihir and I shared a room and we quickly showered and changed. I felt like I just popped out of a bollywood song because I did not pack well enough for the evening. With a bright yellow shorts and bright green T shirt I managed to raise few eyebrows once again. Nothing was going to get in the way of me and the food I deserve. Tony and Margret joined us at our tables.

They were volunteering to be event coordinators and they did a fine job at that. Tony had the temperament of a teacher. It did not surprise at all when he told us that was retired primary school teacher. I was the only ever annoying vegetarian and the hotel chef manged to make one vegetarian pasta with chicken in it. That got sent back and then came good lasangne. This time it was vegetarian, vegetarian. The cheesecake topped it all in my belly. Few of them were up for a few drinks but I definitely was not.  Headed back to the room and even before I could complete the words "Good Night", I was out like a light bulb. I slept like a log straight through.

Day two : The legs were complaining. I had to be gentle to it. I remember talking to my own legs in the shower saying, "sixty more kilometers baby and we are done" . we all got a text message from Caroline that we depart at ten. I took a shower once again and stepped down for breakfast. Bags were packed, keys handed back and bikes out of the stable. Seeing everyone wear the same Jersey this morning made me feel special to be part of this gang of cyclists. My mission reinforced with a group snap. My trusted steed felt good.I checked for Tyre pressure and topped up the hydration system. The next thirty kilometers were inland narrow routes and they had good bends and not so steep inclines. Mark briefed us all that the pace van will stay at a constant 25 kmph. We were reminded that this was not a race but a journey together for a worthy cause. Since there was rains the previous night we were warned that the roads could be slippery and since its the rural back roads, manure on few stretches only made it worse. The next thirty kilometers were definitely the most enjoyable course. The views on the fields and the hills that lay beyond reminded me yet again that I am blessed to make this beautiful country as my second home. Hardly anyone to cheer us along the route but the heard of cows all seemed to notice us.

Guess they were surprised to see a bunch of similar clad cyclists. Each one of them, several tens of them at a time, lifted their large bulky heads out of the tall grass just to see us go by. It was beautiful. Not to mention the Irish cows are really pretty. I have a soft corner for them. The dogs too seem to loose they marbles when they saw us cycling in unison. The Curlew pass from Rosscommon was a test for many motorists. I would never forget the patience of these motorists who were stuck behind these cyclists for more than thirty kilometer on this single lane road. Not one did honk at us or try to rev hard while behind us. They were stuck in second gear and at times and when I made a pass at them to go ahead, all they did was shout words of encouragement with their thumbs up. It was remarkable display of  support from them all they way. We had a quick stop for some fruits and gels. Regrouped all cyclists once again.

As we approached Sligo, the welcome to Sligo sign was the biggest relief. I screamed with joy. Once again we were stopped and this time by the Garda. We were all being escorted into town! next twenty five kilometers we had a Garda car with flashing lights ahead of us and Garda motor bike close off the exits ahead of us. I was liking the special attention. Few cyclists pulled up by my side and said few kind words like " How did you make it this far with that thing", "good on you that you kept up with us at this pace on a bike like that", "You have done a fantastic job cycling that, if you had a bike like ours you would be flying " .

Those are exactly the kind of words that I needed at that point in time. I knew that I had dug in well into my reserves and my every single muscle in upper thigh had gone well past the moaning phase. They had given up on me listening to them and had decided to go Kamikaze. As we cycled into town, the sirens were switched on. WOW!, what a feeling of elation. The Sligo people started cheering for us. Many gathered and we stopped right outside the fancy glasshouse hotel . Press photographers clicked away our pictures and the sense of jubilation was overwhelming. I hugged my brother and congratulated all my fellow cyclists. We all had passed this two day endurance race where sixteen year old Patrick and few fifty plus year old cycled alike. The good spirit and camaraderie is what got us this far. A memorable finish. We had a train to catch  in an hour.

We were the first to grab the keys to a room. Mihir bhai and I showered and changed quickly and grabbed some food from the barbecue. Bid our farewells to all of them once again and made it to the train station. But this time while on the bike, not an inch of my rear end could slightly touch the saddle without those padded shorts. We had the tickets but had to buy space for the bike. Put our bikes to rest on the bike rack and set off to "home sweet home". Even before Mihir bhai finished his few sentences to me I was out like a light again.

My body demanded it. At the Connolly station Kate was there to greet us. A final picture with my brother who got me into doing this fantastic event. Reached back home by seven and cycled back home standing up. Every single living cell in my body aching, but isn't there a saying, "No Pain , No Gain".  What a Gain it was!, Coast to Coast on a bike  in ten hours,across a beautiful country like Ireland can only be once in a life time; or will it ?