Motorcycle Roadtrip Ireland - "There R no more roads!"

Motorcycle Roadtrip Ireland

I recently (July Bank Holiday Weekend 2011) completed a monster weekend roadtrip around the bottom half of Ireland. Over the 3 days we covered roughly 120o kms and it made me realise that some of the best biking roads, anywhere, can be found along the southern coastline.

I'm disgusted I left my GoPro helmet camera at home as the roads are simply unbelievable...smooth clean tar, along the coast, sweeping from side to side with minimal traffic, even for a busy weekend. If you've never seen this part of the country - just DO IT.

To give some background to what was dictating our route check out this link. This is a great idea whereby you get a map at the beginning of the year, 30 or so historic destinations, sparsely dotted across Ireland. The idea is to get your bike to each location and take a photo, hence the name - the Irish Photo Rally.

I've never done this before but most of the other lads were seasoned pros at this. Infact Mike once did this whole rally in 48 hours! Other people even do this, over the course of the year, on Honda 50s and all sorts of unusual bikes.

"Competitors Ready!.......Gladiators Ready!"

The group I did it with were a mixed bunch (that's being gentle:). The UN-usual suspects were, from left to right:

The posse, left to right, Mike Robinson, Derek Traynor(me), Gerardo Kelly, Sam Moorhead and Eric Dunne.

Mike Robinson, seasoned veteran that lives by the motto: "It's not a real spin without a ferry!". Approach with caution - this man will make you ride a bike until you're tired beyond belief. I tried seeing if I could find a place that Mike hadn't been to yet....he replied: "There are NO more countries!"

Derek Traynor, a handsome 28yo, sporting an athletic body, FULL head of hair and striking charisma on a GSXR1000K7.

Gerardo Kelly, an unusual character...in personality and looks. Although relatively young according to his current passport he resembles a modern day beetle-juice...wild in character although not to be underestimated mid corner. He did manage to make use of his limited motocross skills a number of times over the weekend. Riding a Kawasaki ZX6R

Sam Moorhead, another balding victim that has issues with changing bikes very often. Once a sports-bike nut he has retired himself to bikes which are beneficial to his aging posture:) Currently the proud owner of a KTM SuperDuke. Puts on a mean UK accent when conversing with the Police.

Eric Dunne, proud CBR1000RR owner, Alpinestar hater, and a tidy man at carving a few lines.

Our Route:

Don't worry lads, I won't put the other pics online!

We departed late on Saturday and had some ground to catch as Mike and Eric were already in Cork. A boring but direct route along the M9 was the solution followed by a nice spin to Dungarvan.

Dungarvan, Dungarvan........I should start another blog for the shenanigans in Dungarvan but needless to say there was a beer or ten consumed. Sam insisted that "we're on our holidays" as he continued to drag us from pub to pub to club.

What bothered me about this though wasn't the amount of alcohol involved but the fact that, as I was conversing with a lady friend, they tip me on the shoulder to prompt my payment for my drinks - only to find out they had ordered TRIPLE vodkas and Red Bulls all round!

We crashed in an uncle of mine (cheers Phil!) and hit the road at 'Mike' o'clock the next day.

Random note about Dungarvan: on walking into the nightclub I felt an unusual sense on nostalgia.....what was causing it wasn't that obvious until I realized The Pogues, Fairytale of New York on the speakers and the place covered in Christmas decorations, it was Santa themed night - in July!

Another random note, note really specific to Dungarvan: Sam claims that his toothpaste was making him sick although it sounded a lot more like he was suffering from morning sickness to everyone else in the house.

 

Sunday was an animal for the mileage, Dungarvan - Ardmore (for a photo point and a fine breakfast to set up the day), to Youghal, Cork, Kinsale and more. The roads covered here are amazing. I came to the trip a bit rusty on my corner speed and these roads were exactly what I needed, flowing from left to right, not crazy speed but moving along nicely, constant consistent lean, perfect for building up the confidence.

My knees and hips were giving trouble during the day so I managed to pinch the KTM Superduke keys from Sam for part of the day. It's more than I expected. It's a 450 motocross bike, on steroids, with good rubber AND a reg plate - great fun bike. However I couldn't see myself part with hard earned dollars for one. Although the GSXR is very racy it's still smooth power delivery whereas the KTM is slightly snatchy and every bit as firm through the suspenders as a sportsbike. I suppose this is the selling point of this bike, it's not a girly-soft trailie bike, it is a bad-ass harsh bike - I guess I was probably tired and emotional after being kicked around by the GSXR and looking for something a bit more gentleman like, although what I was about to do will eventually cost me dearly!

Mike, the bad man, offered a run on the Duke. 'What harm' I thought - how naive was I being? After all this is a 20k-ish motorcycle. Either way my knees (and kidneys) needed a change and I grabbed the keys out of his hand, ran to the bike, jumped on, already making 'vroom' noises in my helmet only to find out that it also has a 'gentlemans' ignition (which I clearly didn't know how to operate.....being a scuzzy GSXR owner). After a quick tutorial I was away.

This is where it gets expensive: take my advice, don't ever ride one of these bikes. The thing is all things to all people: comfy, loud (in a stylist manner), cool, fast, and it says 'Ducati' all over it - I wanted it so bad right then.....

I honestly can't fault this bike, unless they became unreliable but I'd be surprised. It has buttons to play with galore, some do traction control, others do ABS, others set it up for big bellies, fat heads, and even fat girlfriends! It turns nicely, it stops fast and, if you press the right buttons, it rips along...I mean proper proper fast.

All too quickly the hours ticked by and Mike eventually looked for his baby back (the selfish ass) and I resigned myself to the impulse buy of the century - my Suzuki. It was in that moment that I began to draw comparisons...the Suzi is a lot like a Subaru Impreza:

  • they're both blue.
  • they're both ridiculously fast.
  • they both get crashed a lot.
  • they're both obnoxiously loud.
  • they both cost a fortune to keep tyres on.
  • they both attract the wrong attention from the Gardai.
  • and they're both owned, almost exclusively, by drug dealers! [edit - possible slight exaggeration but you get the idea]

And this is where the Multistrada crossed my mind...I placed it on a mental shelf....somewhere near an M5.....deceptive acceleration, sleek in design, hi-tech, reputable brands, and neither out of place whilst wearing a nicely fitted Armani suit. My decision was made for me - the Suzuki is for sale.......and it'll make one owner very happy.......as he goes about delivering his merchandise!

Comically we had started this trip planning to reach Achill for the following night. By Listowel in Kerry we were delirious with fatigue and began the search for the B+B.  A random man meets me off the main road and claims to have a bed for me. When I explain that there are 5 of us he scratches his head, dollar signs in his eyes and proclaims "no bother, no bother, follow me!". He had the 5 of us in one big room, two matresses dragged in..... to be fair it suited us perfect, €30 a head, great shower, breakfast included, a walk to the town and secure parking around the back (behind the Garda bollards which he had taken from his job - the irony!).

Needless to say, the alcohol sales were greatly hampered by the low energy levels. A quick bite to eat, a few stories from the days adventures and into the bed before midnight. We had a long day done and a longer one ahead.

Another 'mike o'clock' start saw us on the road by 9am. Monday was filled with surprises. A brief spin to the ferry at Tarbert brought us to Killimer in Clare. And a nice road on towards our next photo point - Woodcock Hill Golf Ball, it's a massive aerial for the aviation industry.

It's not a real trip without a ferry crossing.

Next stop was a shipwreck We were heading for a shipwreck but somehow it was gone. I guess the pirates got it - arrggghh!! [edit - apologies for the terrible joke but it reflects our exhausted sense of humor at this point!]

I took the Fireblade for a run. Impressive bike, although that's a given I suppose. Monster power, smaller than my own, similar seating position, all in all a great machine. If you had to pick on it maybe the gearbox is a bit notchy compared to the GSXR but at that it didn't bother me once.

Next Stop was Redwood Castle in Tipperary. On arriving we were greeted by the owner, XXXXX, whos father had rebuilt the castle around 1975-83. She had some interesting facts about the castle and even lives there in the summer. She's had a load of bikers on her door this year all doing the same rally so she knew what to expect - tired eyes and dirty jokes:)

 

Soon enough it was time for the run home, a brief 200ks or so, nothing to a newly hardened mileage muncher! It often amazes me what's on our own doorsteps that we never even knew about. Even better to do it on great bikes, great roads, goodish weather and weird company:)

I eventually arrived home, greeted by a delighted dog, crashed on the couch, having just covered slightly under 1200kms, destroyed a rear tire, filled my bike with petrol no less than 7 times with the biggest grin across my face. Where's the next route lads?

What a weekend,

Derek Traynor.

 Note: most of these pics were taken with iPhone4 cameras. The good shots however were taken by Mikes Canon 11g.

 

 

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