Sorrento Cycling Club

By 10.01 on another bright Saturday morning I found myself bereft of Kleenex having used up my supply wiping teary eyes and runny noses while the assembled cyclist got over the painful truth that today we wouldn't be going to the Motte Stone.Some took this news harder than others so to ease the weeping we decided to go up a lane less travelled.

Down the Glen of the Ups and onto the Red Lane where Andy on his handmade Roberts latched onto an emotionally fragile group.Thinking that the group needed cheering up we took the left turn 1/3 of the way up the hill.A call of "why is it called Cow Shit lane" was heard from behind but the only advice rendered was keep on mooo ving as to stop might mean not starting again.As it had been a while since I was up this particular hill (about 20 years) I had forgotten how steep it was, it also seemed to have a lot less tarmac and alot more dung.Glad to have a triple and but  even gladder to  have had a quadrupler it was hard to keep pedalling as my glasses were fogged up and to stand through the potholes meant losing traction in the dung.Oh well at least I couldn't see the  (lack of) road ahead.A restart wasn't even an option as Gertrude and Maisie ruminated  in disbelief at the men on the skinny horses, so long had it been since a bike had come up this way.After regrouping on top with morale  restored I was politely promised that I wouldn't be voted in as Touring Secretary this year.

     Over the backroads onto the Resevoir which was looking eerily devoid of water but full of the world's fattest herons, across via Moneystown and down to Glenealy where Kilcullens finest decided that it was time to go home to pasture.Deputies Pass, a few glasses of milk in The Tap and hooofed it for home via the new road at Wicklow Rugby Club.    

    All safe and sound back on the long grass by 13.30ish. Several mudguardless riders had their ears boxed later that day after collapsing onto the good clean sofa when they got home.It wouldn't be like me to tell tales but Hay it wasn't me and it wasn't Dave.No animals were hurt making this tour only pride was hurt.Dave, Andy, Paul C, Paddy, Enda, Brian et moi.