bumbling about

Once past that first hurdle my spirits lifted, and I was able to ride. Some of the descents were a little hairy – I was on my own, so I sometimes walked rather than risk injuring myself, but I was in a good mood. Following the path down from the saddle between Meelmore & Meelbeg I knew I wouldn’t have time to do more than follow the base of Slieve Meelmore, out onto the Trassey Track and back to my tent, either rejoining the section of the Ulster Way that passes the campsite, or out through the forest onto the road.

I was in my element.

There were a couple of places where the path wasn’t totally clear, but that was OK, I just kept going till I picked it up again.

There were one or two paths heading off to my left, but that was OK, I just had to keep the mountain on my left.

The sun began to set, but that was OK, I was enjoying the technical riding,

I knew where I was and I knew where I was going… until I rounded a corner and found myself looking down a valley at a large body of water that definitely wasn’t on the map. It was a very large body of water, and the people who made the map really shouldn’t have left it off. Actually, it was so big that somebody had built a dam across it and it could almost be mistaken for a big reservoir, and it definitely wasn’t on the map… unless I had strayed a little bit off the path, or missed a turn…

Map out, I realised I was looking down at Ben Crom Reservoir, and while I’d been concentrating on looking down at the technical trail I’d forgotten to look up and see the that I was actually going round the base of Slieve Bearnagh instead of Meelmore – and that it was actually getting dark.

I had the choice of working my way round Bearnagh (scary) to Hares gap and down, or backtrack and take the longer but less treacherous path between Bearnagh and Meelmore. I opted for the cautious route. Riding some, but mostly pushing. Trails that were fun at dusk on the way down became impossible in the dark on the way back up and I eventually made it to Trassey Track at about 1230.

Almost as soon as I got on the track, I looked up and watched the mist descend. The easily identifiable peaks very quickly became invisible through the pale blanket. Half an hour later and I wouldn’t have been able to find the path. I wasn’t too concerned; I had my emergency bivi, a couple of spare lights, and enough food and water to last me well into Friday. I didn’t see any reason to worry, but I was annoyed that I’d wandered so far off my planned route and that my journey home was so frustratingly slow.

My progress was hampered further by the fact that my chain had at some point bounced off the chain ring and into the gap between the ring and the frame. It was trapped there, and I couldn’t prise it out, so when I got to the path I split the chain with my chain tool and forced it through. I reconnected the chain, but I could see that some of the links were twisted. Even when the path smoothed out, I wasn’t going to be able to ride.

It was slow going, but eventually I made it to the Ulster Way marker. I started to push along the wall, but there was a group of about ten tents along the path – with litter, abandoned meals and empty tent bags scattered on the ground all around. I was annoyed with myself, I wasn’t pleased that they were camped right on the path, and I was righteously indignant that they’d made such a mess. At half past one that morning, a large angry animal bumbled through their camp… pushing a damaged bicycle. I practised my evil chuckle when they nervously called out “Who’s there? Do you hear that? What’s that noise?” I’m bad.

At nearly two in the morning I locked the broken bike to the fence out of habit, crawled into my tent, pulled the sleeping bag over me and slept till morning - woken only once by a sheep eating the tent.

In the morning, with the bike unrideable, I'd no choice but to pack up and head home. Would I have tried another ride after the marathon of the night before? I don't know, but I'm glad that chain got mangled on my practice ride rather than on the first day of the coast to coast.