Share your good memories

CramCycle

Just watching random sh1t on youtube and came across the Williams brother out for a sp1n, having the craic, and it reminded me of my friends and me, on heaps of sh1t by this forums standards, rolling around north Longford as teenagers. Those were some great memories, and as the tiredness creeped in I wondered how many good memories were bike related for me and it is loads, from a young age, up to this very day, with varying reasons for their positive impact.

I can remember my father taking my stabilisers off my bike, I remember riding with friends from an age you wouldn't be let out of your parents site nowadays in many cases. I remember skidding down newly laid roads in north Longford or climbing up the hill beside my house to the football pitch. I remember throwing myself around a quarry to prove to my friend it was a stupid idea (and having to be carried home). I remember it being my steed of choice when I first came to Dublin, cycling what seemed like an eternity to go to house parties and realising many years later I cover 4 fold that distance daily. I remember walking my track bike beside me on the first date I went with my life long partner and her admiring that she had never met anyone who brought a bike on a date. I remember the heavy snow where on my way home from work at 4am I had strapped a shovel to my top tube and dug out her driveway. I ended up digging out a further 4 on the way home, helping a Garda get a car moving, 2 girls get to their grandmothers funeral and a mother get her child to wherever she was going. I remember the hallucinations of cycling through the Netherlands, under prepared and starved of common sense, or getting towed through Kilkenny by Captain Havoc after 200km of an Audax, after cycling from Dublin and getting the best/quickest tour of Kilkenny and the hospitality of a (then) stranger who let me sleep in their house for the night. I remember meeting 100 different nationalities as I cycled through the North of France in the rain and sunshine. I remember a now good friend, from a different team encouraging me to go for it at the end of a race when I had given up, and I went onto win after I was sure I had lost. I cycled to the birth of my grandson as my daughter rang me first. There are many more stories which are important to no one but me, but they make me feel good to remember. They are not cycling related as such, and they only skim the surface, but it does make me appreciate it all the more that without my bike, these things would not have happened.

magicbastarder

many years ago, on the august bank holiday after our leaving cert, a bunch of us cycled to glendalough from D15, camped on the upper lake, and cycled home the next day, and then the following day hopped on the train and headed out west on the bikes. we talked about it for years afterwards.
christ knows how we didn't come croppers, we weren't exactly well prepared or on decent touring bikes. but it was great.

i also have a memory of laughing while trying not to vomit from over exerting myself while unfit and trying to cycle up into the wicklow mountains, having scared off a german tourist who'd stopped to ask for directions as i started to retch.

ednwireland

cycling up holme moss to watch the milk race when I was a teenager on a 42 52 !

smacl

One of my first sportives was the Etape Hibernia which I rode with my sister on closed roads through Clare. Amazing buzz with lots of cheering from the crowds tearing through Lahinch and later seeing the kids with 'Go dad' placards on the final stretch coming into Ennis. I've never raced and doubt I ever will but it certainly had that feel about it. Sitting in O'Looneys later with creamy pints in as texts started popping in with finishing times, totally delighted with our lamentable results.

First WW200 will also remain with me forever, on my old sports hybrid with front suspension, in the worst weather imaginable. Memories of Daragh's wife honking the horn continuously to encourage us all up Slieve Maan and chatting briefly to Colm18 in the Rathdrum food-stop which looked for all the world like a refugee encampment. Loved flying through a flooded bit in Deputies pass and being overjoyed at seeing my wife and kids cheering me on at the final leg as I arrived with the stragglers after 11 hours. We had another hour of a wait for my brother in-law who, in his wisdom, decided to done the thing on a hard tail with 26" MTB tyres. Also a few tasty pints had that evening watching the Japanese Grand Prix which was also flooded from memory.

A couple of years back on an MTB half audax on the CX bike in Mayo, totally beyond my technical ability, taking 9 hours on a 100k course with a 6 hour cut off and no less craic for all that. Only knobbly tyres I had were the ice spikes which didn't help matters. Also met up with a few stragglers in the middle of nowhere having a similar laugh and taking in the scenery. Sitting in the sunshine enjoying an ice cream somewhere outside Cong. Need to get back to Mayo, great cycling.

Much more recently, just before the last lockdown, out to the GAP with my best friend and a few of her mates. Me in truly rotten condition, her just out of chemo, collectively with close to zero MTB experience between us pissing ourselves laughing going down the trails like a pair of old fogeys. Planning on making it a regular event once the lockdown lifts.

hesker

Cycling 20 miles to Skerries with my mates on cobbled together bikes when we were about 14. Spent the day swimming and on the amusements. Cycled home at a crawl totally knackered at 11.30pm as it was just getting dark.

A few years later doing Co-operation North Maracycle Dublin to Belfast with my brothers and sister. Happy times.

And 2 years ago, cycling into town to meet my wife after her shopping day out. We had a couple of drinks and I gave her a saddler home (backer in these parts). Both of us in our 50s, laughing our heads off.

Captain Havoc

Cycling is just a memory at the moment :o:o

My personal circumstances don't permit me to cycle regularly at the moment. I hope when I've finished my degree in May, that I will have more time.

Captain Havoc

Captain Havoc wrote: »

Cycling is just a memory at the moment :o:o

My personal circumstances don't permit me to cycle regularly at the moment. I hope when I've finished my degree in May, that I will have more time.

Well you could always get one of those wee exercise bikes for under the desk and pedal away while you study.

fryup

cycling to and from school everyday, kept me fit & healthy

don't see many kids cycling to school anymore? roads to busy i suppose

funnights74

Tour de Kilkenny 2015 i think, rained all day and i mean rain, only half of those that registered turned up and most who started bailed out early on, spot flooding everywhere but the brave and the stupid soldiered on and got back to the rugby club on the verge of hypothermia.
The 120 Km took us both 5 and a half hours and the aches and pains lasted for days, there should be a roll of honour for those that finished that day, insane con ditions, great memory.

fryup

tour de kilkenny is tough enough on a good day can't imagine what its like on a bad day

sullivlo

Seeing/smelling the sea for the first time at Oranmore, having cycled from Maynooth as part of the Galway cycle and the subsequent roll in to Eyre Square.

I know that it's not a hardcore cycle like some of the sportifs, but the first year I did Galway Cycle was truly spectacular. My aunt died in January 2015 and before she died she told her husband to buy me a bike. The first bike I saw was a pink Scott speedster and I fell in love and loved the symbolism (my aunt taught me how to cycle on a pink bike).

Anyway I started training like mad and in the March of 2015 I did Galway Cycle. I thought of her every moment of the day and when I had to really dig deep to keep the pedals moving, it was her that kept me going.

Probably the most emotional day on the bike.

Non-soppy - I did the ring of clare with a group of friends a few years ago. It was a tough day on the bike and I was counting down the km. I even considered getting off the bike at one stage until 3 men arrived and talked me through the dark patch. Rolling over the finish line with my friends was a great feeling.

Wishbone Ash

As a small child in the early 1970's, going down to the end of the road on warm summer evenings and anxiously waiting to meet my father coming home from work on his bike. And then the thrill of getting a ride the rest of the way home on his crossbar. It's the simple things.

cletus

My memory turn out to be a question as well.

In the very early 90's (maybe 91), my grandfather produced a bike for me one morning. It was obviously second hand, but I loved it. I'd had bikes before when I was really small (learning to cycle), but at 11 years old, this was the first bike I had where I could to places with my mates.

Thing is, I've no idea what sort of bike it was.

It had a long saddle, similar to the Raleigh Choppers, but it wasn't a chopper. I recall similar handlebars too, though. I think there was a geared hub, but it didn't work properly, and I have vague memories that my grandfather had simply wedged something into it to stop it slipping.

My abiding recollection is that it was burgundy, and had a small rip on the saddle. Years later I went searching through sheds etc to see could I find it, but, it's well gone

Eamonnator

Biking has been so good to me, that it's hard to choose one memory.
In 2000, my son John was racing Downhill MTB. He crashed at a World Cup in Kaprun, Austria(I think) He hit a tree, and broke his arm in a couple of places. He was brought to hospital. They fixed him up as best they could and he was brought home to Ireland. He went to another hospital, where plates were installed to stabilise the bones. He was let out the following day. Anyway, the National Downhill Championships were 4 weeks away. There seemed little chance that he could compete.
Three days later, he was on a turbo trainer. The following week, he did a little cycling on a road bike. I realised that he was thinking of racing the Championships, but didn't say anything. The following week, he went out on a XC bike. At this stage, I knew, he was going to race. I tried to dissuade him, but no good.
The champs were being held in Ravensdale that year. On the Monday or Tuesday of race week, he went to Ravensdale and rode the course on his DH bike, his arm was very sore, but he was determined to race. I asked him did he realise what could happen if he fell on his arm in the race. He told me that he wouldn't fall and that was it, I surrendered.
Race day came, John had practised on the previous day, without incident, and must have done a reasonable seeding run, because he was fairly late to ride in his race run. I was at the finish area during the race. When it came time for John's run, I couldn't hack it and went for a walk away from the finish. A few minutes later, I heard cheering, went back to finish and saw that J. had put in a great time. In fact it was a winning time. I could not believe it. From breaking his arm badly to winning the Nationals was four weeks.
I don't know to this day whether i was happier that he won or got to the finish in one piece, without injuring himself.

cletus

cletus wrote: »

My memory turn out to be a question as well.

In the very early 90's (maybe 91), my grandfather produced a bike for me one morning. It was obviously second hand, but I loved it. I'd had bikes before when I was really small (learning to cycle), but at 11 years old, this was the first bike I had where I could to places with my mates.

Thing is, I've no idea what sort of bike it was.

It had a long saddle, similar to the Raleigh Choppers, but it wasn't a chopper. I recall similar handlebars too, though. I think there was a geared hub, but it didn't work properly, and I have vague memories that my grandfather had simply wedged something into it to stop it slipping.

My abiding recollection is that it was burgundy, and had a small rip on the saddle. Years later I went searching through sheds etc to see could I find it, but, it's well gone

Actually, I'm pretty sure it was one of these but with a crossbar...



More probably something like this, but without the bling...

Unknown Soldier

funnights74 wrote: »

Tour de Kilkenny 2015 i think, rained all day and i mean rain, only half of those that registered turned up and most who started bailed out early on, spot flooding everywhere but the brave and the stupid soldiered on and got back to the rugby club on the verge of hypothermia.
The 120 Km took us both 5 and a half hours and the aches and pains lasted for days, there should be a roll of honour for those that finished that day, insane con ditions, great memory.

Can you check if that was 2015? I have a Cup/Mug and a certificate from 2015, and I don't remember the weather being bad? It was a tough workout though. I did the 110km.

secman

Back when i was about maybe 13 or 14 a lot of tbe lads has varied bikes, ranging from mens bikes to womens bikes, one lad had a Raleigh Chopper, another lad actually did proper bike racing so he obviously had a racer. I had no bike then, but my father was counting down the weeks to claim a bike he had found and left into Kilmainham Garda station. Anyways one nice summer day the lads decided to take a spin to the strawberry beds, now I'd say only one lad actually heard of and knew where that was. Most likely headtheball on the racer as i had no bike, headtheball said he had a spare racer, , wheres the brakes i asked....they're kind of in the pedals says headtheball...you kinda stop peddling. Great says i, deadly im on a bleeden racer. I have never forgotten going down that hill Anglers Rest and having to abandon the pedals as my legs couldn't keep up with the pedals. My first and last encounter with a track bike, i shat myself on that downhill , sheer madness, it even made me totally forget my sore arse. A great day though, and we were all burnt too , farmers tans were a plenty. Little did i know then that I'd be mad into the cycling 50 years on

07Lapierre

Think I was 15 or 16 and I had my first "racer" it was a Viking 531 steel from. I'd built it myself and I thought it was the dogs. It had a 52x42 chainset and the largest rear sprocket was an 18!

I cycled from coolock, through the city centre over to Dundrum. At Stepaside I turn right and headed up Burrow road towards Glencullen. I then headed to Glencree and descended into Enniskerry.

I'm sure you are all familiar with the descent into Enniskerry? I was flying! As I came into Enniskerry, I waited until I'd passed the crossroads at Forge Road before hitting the brakes hard! The back wheel locked up and I veered over to the right onto the wrong side of the road. A car coming up the hill had to veer to the right to avoid me as I careered down the hill and just managed to stop at the monument in the village!

A can of coke and a mars bar and I then cycled home. How on earth I managed that route on a 53x42 still baffles me now!

funnights74

Unknown Soldier wrote: »

Can you check if that was 2015? I have a Cup/Mug and a certificate from 2015, and I don't remember the weather being bad? It was a tough workout though. I did the 110km.

I'm not certain of the year, i did 8 or 9 in a row from 2009, if you did it the year i mentioned you would certainly remember it, i remember hearing later it was the heaviest amount of rainfall Kilkenny had in 1 day in over 40 years. :eek:
I have a few of those mugs as well, it's a shame they were discontinued, they were hard earned , the first year i did the 160 and it's merciless, the 110 is my limit but in saying that if you can do a good TdeK 110 Kms you can more or less do any cycle in the country.

Jez Weepsie we could be bike twins from another mother there, also had a BMX and a Townsend MTB following that. Recall being held up in the driveway by my dad and told to pedal and how to brake on the BMX and riding around with my brother on the back pegs. Rolling it down a bank across a road, hitting the far side kerb and being thrown over the bars and hopping right back up without a bother.

The Townsend took some battering and some of the roads it covered I'm nervous on as an adult these days. No idea of the gearing was 18 speed over 3 rings so maybe a 46/11 top gear if I'm being generous to my younger self but it saw me up Bellewstown over a few summers fruit picking at 13-14. That road gives my absolute hell anytime I'm up it these days but I remember it as just a hill I had to get up back then. I was probably 55kg then and the bike out of all the ones friends had I remember the tubing being the thinnest of them all and being closer to my dads road bike, this would have been early 90's.

Later on the Townsend a regular 30km round trip to see a girl, first love and someone to this day is still a close friend to me and the only person from school I kept in touch with. She wasn't much of a cyclist and still isn't but we still laugh out the time we rode to Navan and she hopped on the bus with her bike in Slane and left me to it

Christ when I think of it now riding whats now the N51, the R132, R108, R166 and R152 out of Drogheda at 13 then was a "do you need a lunch" day out from mam. If mine were that age and told me those were the roads they were riding today I'd take their bikes off them

EDIT: Thought of another one, myself and my Dad regularly riding the M1 while it was nearing completion in the evenings and weekends. Think he's photos we took on the bridge over the Boyne so must ask him. Recall meeting a fair few others up to the same thing.

Macy0161

There's two phases to my cycling life... I grew up in England, and was never allowed a bike there. However, coming over every school holidays to rural North Longford (in a coincidence to the opening post), I had my bike and had my freedom. Going off all day with my pals, or just solo. My favourite climb in Wicklow (Brown Mountain) is my favourite as a few of the turns remind me of memories of the Kilmahon side of Corn Hill. Other things like timing ourselves flying down a drive, and trying to make the turn to the road. Every single one of us ending in the ditch píssing ourselves laughing. Having races on the new line road, someone Kelly, someone Roche. Always Kelly for me. Still have my last 5 speed "Racer", waiting to be restored.

Phase 2 was when I decided at 22 plus stone and getting a BSO from amazon. Being thrilled when I made it around the 10km loop without having to stop. Second thrill a few years later when I did the same drag in the big ring. Joining a club, doing up and overs. Getting around my first sportive (WW200), and the wife and girls meeting me in Greystones. Club races, and then a handful of open races (an itch that just nags away at me!). Loving the atmosphere on my first audax (Dying Cow). The packet of BBQ Hula Hoops at the stop on the descent of Brown Mountain in the MB200). Completing Liege Bastogne Liege despite hypothermia in Bastogne - approaching the Côte de St Roch looking for a marshal to bail, deciding to give the climb ago and it saving my event. Waffles. The Stockeau. The La Redoute. The giving out yards about the bs talk of a flat run in from the Roche-aux-Faucons, and Fulgsang attacking on the same false flat the next day. Seeing the Pro race, and finish.

monkeysnapper

Mine definitely 100% was that I always had 2nd hand stuff growing up.... we didn't have a lot of money and my mate in school got a brand new bike in summer and after I constantly kept on at my mum she bought me my friends old racer which constantly kept breaking throughout summer ....

Christmas morning she had bought me a brand new racer in my favorite colour ..... christ it still makes me giddy to this day my reaction when she sent me to kitchen to make her a cup of tea on Christmas morning to find bike sitting there. !!!!

As it happens its actually my mums birthday today .... she's 70 ..... Happy birthday sweet lady...... ( not that she'll ever see this ha ha)

Tombo2001

Back in the day I went backpacking for 18 months. From time to time I would rent a bike if I was in a small town, as a way to get out to the countryside.

One of the place I did this was in rural China - Xinjiang province.

Cycled for three or four hours, countryside & small villages - I know its a bit of a cliche but these places would never normally have seen a tourist. People would come out of their house to have a gawk at you if you stopped anywhere.

Late in the evening I was passing through a little village that was on a bend on the road. As I approached I realised there was a kerfuffle - two lads were having a big old fight. 4 or 5 others were watching. They were really going at each other. I didnt know what to make of it and kept cycling towards them.

As I was going past, one of the lads picked up a brick and flung it at the other. He missed, and the brick hit the wheel of my bike.

The lads were so shocked to see me there that they just stopped fighting and stood there staring while I checked the bike. For all involved, it was a WTF moment.

Bike was grand, and I kept going.

ednwireland

i still have two very faint black lines on my elbow (embedded dirt) when i fell off realizing my dad wasnt holding on to the back of the bike anymore must have been 3 or 4 years old.

gravel road with power station ash on it !