28th July 2007. Day one, Phase one.

A slight thud.

You would hope to avoid, but you'd possibly expect a slight thud at some stage during an expedition. An expedition that would be fraught with danger. Sure isn't that what an expedition is all about? Otherwise it's just a trip. But this was an expedition, and before it even started, there was a slight thud. I was sitting safely at the kitchen table in my mother's house when my brother John landed a magnum of Champagne on the table ... with a slight thud.

The HUGE bottle of Veuve Clicquot Ponsardin sat temptingly on the green and white shiny surface. It almost covered the patch that was burned out of the table with an iron many years ago. That patch is older than me, and might well outlive me, but I had other plans for the beautiful beautiful bottle. We could pop it open there and then, cancel all plans for the day and enjoy each and every bubble in good company. But there was a catch. The bottle was not to be opened until I returned safely from my expedition. The disappointment almost hit me with a slight thud, but instead it turned into more encouragement and more drive to complete an expedition that was years and years in the planning. The route was to take me by bike from Malin Head through Donegal to Fermanagh, walking across Lough Navar Forest, Big Dog Forest and Carrigan Forest to Blacklion, walk the Cavan Way to Dowra, kayak down the Shannon to Limerick, and cycle on to Mizen Head in Cork. All by human effort alone. Why? I couldn't really answer that then, but I think I can now. All that later.

Irene and Richie - my aunt and uncle, along with Irene's sister Ruthie, had travelled all the way from Boston to see me off. …. OK, they happened to be in Dublin that morning, but probably would have travelled from Boston otherwise. My sister Cecilia and her husband Brendan also called in so there was plenty of people about. John and I packed his car with my bike and belongings, as he was to drive me to Malin Head. I said my goodbyes to family, sensing their great fear and anxiety that this might end in trouble.
I did my best to reassure them that I would be safe but the truth is I really didn't know how this might go. Somewhere in my mind I was concerned about cycling on small country roads with fast cars, concerned about injury while walking alone up hills, concerned about kayaking across large open waters ……. but thankfully I had put this to the back of my mind. However, the sense of fear emanating from my family at this critical time was beginning to bring all my concerns to the fore. I was getting jitters. I needed to get going. If you don't just venture out there, you won't go. I like the expression "Just Do It". It was now time. We went. I hoped I wasn't going to disappoint my family by getting injured. I thought "I'd better take care".

We went about half a mile when I suddenly exclaimed to John "WAIT! I've left my cycling runners at home!" I had been packing all my gear for the past few weeks but I could not remember putting those runners into the bag. Disaster. I knew I had left them out in my house before travelling to my mother's house but had not packed them. John stopped the car and I went to the boot to confirm that they had been left behind. We would have to drive back to my house. I opened the bag and there they were. Packed, and ready. Panic over. A sheepish return to the front seat of the car. The mind was playing tricks!

As we drove to Donegal, it gave me LOTS of time to think. John and I chatted about various things but most of the time my mind was on the trip. It was easy to think about things that could go wrong, like something breaking on my bike, or my kayak getting stolen, or loosing a vital tent peg somewhere up the hills ….. it began to get to the ridiculous stage. I'm not normally the worrying type. Usually my attitude is "Go out and do it and deal with whatever might happen", but this time I started worrying. Not about getting injured but about a logistical hiccup with disastrous consequences for the trip. I think it was because so many people knew about this trip - I had informed people by direct contact, e-mail and text. And lots were to track my progress. My biggest fear now became "how embarrassing if something stupid happens"!! I longed to get on the bike and get going.

We stopped for lunch at The Magnet Bar, just past Derry, where John had a gammon steak and I had the Magnet Burger (don't worry - you won't see every receipt!). With thoughts of the trip before me, I wasn't hungry and found it quite tasteless but I knew I'd need the food for energy later so polished it all off. We continued on our journey and made it to a calm and sunny Malin Head at about 4pm.

Changing facilities are limited but I managed to change into my cycling gear in an old derelict concrete building while John put the bike together. There's very little at Malin Head other than an old derelict weather station, but there was a considerable number of people about - even a small traffic jam!


As John was to travel by car to our planned stop in a Derry B&B that night I didn't have to carry much. I quickly packed some essentials in a bag and was ready to go! No trumpets, no fanfare, just a few curious onlookers. Part of me was embarrassed, but part of me wanted to announce to the world MY EXPEDITION IS STARTING!! Instead, I posed for a photo or two for John, said "See you in a while" and away I went. Freewheeling down the steep hills from Malin Head I felt wonderful. In those first few hundred meters everything was coming together. The bike was working, the weather was perfect, I hadn't forgotten anything, I had the well wishes of family and friends. I was on my way!!
That little yellow dot in the centre of the picture is me!

I intend to post a new piece about once-a-week. Any thoughts, views, opinions? Please get commenting!