After the hustle and bustle of Cork and narrowly escaping the swirling pit of evil in Galway, Mr Husband, Finn McSpool, and I woke up to the fresh air and bird song of Inishmore. Even better? Breakfast was ready!
After slogging through a vast amount of protein, a gallon of tea, and a mountain of mushrooms, we waddled down the hill into the heart of the big town (okay, village) of Kilronan to rent bikes for the two full days we’d be on the island.
Now, before we get too deep into the next bit, let me just state that I used to cycle A LOT on my 20-mile round trip commute to work, but with Portland drivers growing more aggressive, no commute forcing me to ride, and simply being too lazy to pump up the tires, I’ve slacked off on my cycling skills.
Still, they do say once you learn to ride a bike you never forget. Um, clearly “they” haven’t met me.
About five minutes into our first outing, I was on the ground with the bike (aka “Killer”) physically attacking me (or so it felt).
In my defense, I’m used to “real” bikes that require swinging your leg over to mount. Killer was a step-through (“girly”) frame with a rack on the back. With my natural inclination to swing my leg over, I misjudged the distance of the swing and got tangled in the metal puzzle of that damn rack.
There was pain, both physical and mental, but we had sights to see and the first was Dún Aengus (or Dún Aonghasa if you to get all Celtic about it), a Bronze Age fort that’s touted as Inishmore’s Must-See attraction. So, recalling Harry Potter’s introduction to Buckbeak, I cautiously approached Killer and, after he gave me permission, climbed into the saddle.
Soon, I was nervously pedaling along 9 km of coastal road and enduring scenery like this to get to the Dún Aengus visitor center. Continue reading