After a sub-optimal European Champs, I needed a bit of a focus, so I set myself the task of riding 300+ miles to the start of a 24-hour race to see how my legs were and shake down some bikepacking gear for my big project next year.

There have been a number of my heroes and peers that have done this before and I’ve always wondered how hard it would be. The first endurance race I ever did, I saw a guy there who commuted to it on his touring bike, pitched his tent, took his panniers off and raced for the full 24hrs. Not only riding it but placing well. I remember thinking that if these were the people I was pitching myself against then I had NO hope.

I foolishly thought I might get a little respite on my night shifts at work before setting off, but I was sorely mistaken. 4.5 hrs sleep in 3 days saw me setting off at 07:00 from work in Braintree and heading for Pivot 24/12 in Plymouth.

In my untired and optimistic head I had set myself a goal of 150 miles the first day, 100 the second and 60 the third so I could recover for the race (this sounds ridiculous now).

I set off from Braintree full of optimism and lacking in the sleep department, down the Flitch Way before joining the Stort Valley way and heading round the dreaded Smokering to Rickmansworth. From there joining the Thames path to Reading. It was baking hot already!! But at least it was dry after my previous run-ins with the Smokering.

I was making good time for the first day finding some singletrack west of Reading that was fast dusty and fun (mental note made to plan a return exploration journey). I was really looking forward to trying out some kit that Trekitt had supplied me for my adventures. If you don’t know of them then look them up. Top shop and great people to deal with.

I will be honest I was in a pretty poor state which was probably due to the sleep thing and I started to make some bad decisions, so with discretion being the greater part of valour at about 110 miles I pulled into a pub for a meal and a shop to pick up some bits and bobs for the morning, before heading towards a spot to spend the night.

Burger and pint of Coca Cola in my belly, I lucked into my best spot yet. After a day in the scorching sunshine it took me about 5 minutes to set up camp before diving into the river for a dip to cool off. It was just splendid.

I got out, dripped dry and the next thing I remember was waking up at 08:00 in the morning. I must have slept a solid 10 hours. MEGA!! and I felt a lot better. When I say I felt better that was after having a 10 min reboot thinking what am I doing here, where am I? That sort of thing. Coffee fixed it though as it normally does.

The route took me into Streetly where I joined the Ridgeway to make my way over towards Devizes. It’s pretty fast and good going when its dry so I tried to crack on a bit and pick up the miles. I was on a high at the start of the day and moving well. The Stone Roses were booming from my headphones when I saw two lads walking with their bikes. With the customary “Morning, are you OK?” came back the reply “No not really.” I asked them where they were going and they replied “Amsterdam! First lads’ holiday!” Oh dear oh dear. This was not going well for them so I stopped to fix their mechanical, bearing in mind they already were looking a bit dazed and smelling a little fragrant if you know what I mean.  But they were cool lads and I’m sure they will have some big stories to tell in a week or two (if they make it there that is).

The temperature was picking up and by the time I reached Avebury it must have been a million degrees. So I stopped in the shade of a pub in the centre of the stone circle for a bit of food and drink before getting straight back to it.

Although the day had started well, the route planner I was using seemed to be having some sort of brain infarct (that’s a necrotic cell death of brain matter for the non-medical) and was sending me on some ever-stranger footpaths and detours which meant me lifting the fully laden 48lb rig over stile after stile. My sense of humour was cracking. I was trying to do 80% off-road but I was never going to make it there for the race at this rate. So at Devizes I replotted and started to take to the road a bit more. I picked up cycle routes along the canals and byways which coupled with a tailwind had me rocking along.

I say rocking along, but there was a large element of fear incorporated in it. I have just fitted tri-bars as I’m told they are the way to go for the Tour Divide next year and are supremely comfy for your back. However never having used them before and choosing to try down narrow tow paths was a bit of an eye opener. The only way I can describe it to the uninitiated is similar to running downhill really fast. You realise that your body is going faster than your legs can go and despite running as fast as you can there is a sense of impending doom and injury. Much like that.

Waking up the following morning on the Somerset border about 20 miles shy of Honiton, I was tired. Previously I have used a bivy bag and a half-matt to bike pack with, but this trip is the first outing for the new tent, the Terra Nova Ultra Laser and Exped Full length matt.

In short what a difference. I can sit up in the tent and stretch my hamstrings and it has none of that coffin like feel. At only 560gm-ish its hardly a weight penalty. With the full-length matt, it’s the perfect combo for a good night’s sleep and yet again I was out for the count. With the tent being so light and see through I was up with the light which was no bad thing and something I’m looking forward to next year, as I will be in it for a couple of months.

I realise this isn’t even classed as an adventure by some reading this but to me it was. It was me under my own steam riding to a race to go and ride some more. Finding my own shelter and moving at my own pace. I was loving it. I felt like a cross between Ralph Fiennes and the guy off the Mr Muscle advert.

On with the story…

I stopped at a bin to dump some rubbish in Honiton High Street when out of a butcher’s shop came said butcher, putting his board and such like out for the day. Taking the piss, I asked if he did bacon sarnies.

He said, “I guess you would like a tea with that.” I figured he was taking the piss, but I thought I would play along.

“That would be champion, thanks.”

“Is Yorkshire OK,” he replied. Pretty sure he is taking the piss now.

“Ooh lovely.”

“Three pounds fifty please.”

Not at all taking the piss… MEGA!

Armed with bacon, which is the best way to start a day, it was off for the hills of Dartmoor. A few detours and some hike a bike after the route plan went a bit wrong.  Byway turned to sheeptrack. Sheeptrack turned to marsh. I had to have a little chat with myself. Let’s just say there were some strong words exchanged (this was a lot steeper than it looks and the marshy bit was just delightful)

Yet again I took to the road to get off the moors and soon found myself rolling into Newnham Park. A bit stinky and hungry but I got a fantastic welcome from Ian and Matt.

I only ever planned to make it round this race as I knew I wouldn’t be quick (I’m not very quick at the best of times, but quick for me).

My wife Sally was on her way down to race in a team but stuck in a bucket load of holiday traffic and making slow progress, so this gave me a little time.  So it was straight over to the Torq tent to start the pasta refuel and pitch the tent for a little extra nap before Sal arrives (I was still feeling the effect of the night shifts).

Race day…!!

I set off from the back to let the quick boys and girls go including Matt, Tom and Karen from Team JMC (that’s my excuse anyway). The course was riding really well to begin with, dry dusty and fast, with some old favourites like Cottage Return back in the lap. I decided to just ride on my heart-rate and not get drawn into anything as this level of fatigue racing was new territory for me. I felt good though. I don’t know how but I did. I was peddling nice and smooth and there still seemed to be a bit of power left. This was good news for the Tour Divide.

As the day clocked on I was working my way up the field. Partly spurred on by the great cheers from Ian Frew on the mic when I came through the village. Lights on and I was up to 5th and catching 4th.

Then the weather turned. It rained, and my god did it rain. The course got wetter and more slippery. This was OK but having packed rather light for the trip I was a bit shy on clothing. By 03:00 is it was taking its toll and after I started to shiver, then stopped shivering, I thought it best to come in for a quick warm up. Sal was great and made me a hot drink while I crouched in front of the van heater to try and warm up. I was going nowhere, I had to change out of these wet clothes.

No sooner had I got my head together to get out (I know it doesn’t look like it in the picture, but that was my game face at the time).
I was met with the news that due to the adverse weather the race had been stopped. The arena was carnage and rightly the race had been pulled as soon as rider safety was in question. Well done the Pivot crew, great decision and nice to see that the riders are at the centre of your decision-making process. Thank you. Disappointing but thank you.

I was hoping to make up a few places but came away with a 7th. For a normal mortal like me I’m happy with that after the adventure on the way down.

A MASSIVE well done to Tom Hodgkinson from Team JMC for winning it. Matt Jones for his podium and some of the fastest downhill riding I have ever seen. Karen Price for her podium in the Women’s 24 and to Sal for her first ever 24hr.

To answer my question as to how hard it is to ride to a 24, then race it. Hard. But not as hard as you would think.

Would I do it again. YES! It was good fun and I have some great memories from it. Now I can’t wait for the next challenge.

Thanks everyone for the support. Trekitt Mountain Sports, E3 Coaching, Chelmer Cycles, PT Cycles, Torq Fitness and Team JMC. You guys are great.

The Transatlantic Way is a 2500km unsupported single-stage road bikepacking race from Dublin to Kinsale via the Wild Atlantic Way (WAW), a stunning coastal road route which hugs the west coast of Ireland from Derry to Kinsale. Roulers must first self-navigate around 150 miles from Dublin to Derry before joining the WAW. The course basically then hugs every inlet and coastal peninsula until reaching the southern coast, predominantly riding into the prevailing headwind and with the odd gravel section for good measure.

I’ve ridden the route twice before, once on the inaugural race in 2016 where I finished within the top ten in a much smaller field and again in 2017 where I was ahead of my finish time but suffered countless issues surrounding my wheels which forced me to stop about a third of the way through the course. I decided to ride again in 2018 to leave me with positive thoughts of the race and knowing I’d already bagged the Italy Divide race a couple of months earlier to boost my fitness as a good training run.

Day 1

Waking up at Trinity College to beautiful sunshine was a stunning start to the race. Fears of torrential rain from previous years seemed remote and a quick breakfast and good lucks swopped with friends before a group ride to the start line was chilled and relaxed.

The race started in waves set apart by first name, with a lot more riders than in the previous two previous years. As usual the plan to have a relaxed start went out the window as soon as a short neutralised section was cleared. Karen Toast quickly broke away from the group start and knowing she was a strong rider I was keen to stick nearby to her to set a strong pace. Perhaps the universe was trying to put me back to my original place to take a relaxed start as not long after passing her I took a wrong turn at some roadworks and don’t think I saw her again for another week!

My route to checkpoint 1 at Derry made for some nice cruising on quiet back roads, I stopped quite a bit to top up on cold drinks and it wasn’t long before the first ice cream of the race had been scoffed! The sun was rising higher and it would have been easy to think we were riding in the south of France as temperatures soared. On heavy bikes carrying luggage and rolling hills it was important to not get too carried away trying to race people in the start pack as a trade-off for using fluids.

I felt strong still from the Italy Divide a few weeks earlier, but the heat was really getting to me. A large climb in Gortyn Glen Forest Park sapped my energy and early on made me question whether I’d made the right call taking on a race this big so quickly after Italy. I dropped my pace though and rolled into checkpoint one with Dave Fortis after calling into a takeaway to pick up some chips ! As in previous years I knew that the next section was one of the toughest of the ride and the area where most people get carried away and get injured, so I stopped very early and slept in Derry at 142 miles, planning to set away early with a fresh start on those who may have burnt themselves out during a fast paced longer day one.

Photo courtesy of Richard Marshall

Day 2

Early morning I passed a rider looking lost and pointed them in the right direction and quickly made my way around 20 miles to the first of the Mike Hall King of The Mountains Challenge climbs. Rustling out of the long grass I saw a friendly face, Phil Wiggins climbing out of his bivi bag. We would ride (and walk!) on and off over the next few days. Phil is a strong upbeat rider who has strong motivation so I knew from the start he’d make the finish whatever may happen during the ride.

After putting in some distance, I had lost Phil around the stunning Malin Head area but stopping for coffee and food outside Letterkenny I saw him and Rishi Fox both pass me. I wolfed down whatever petrol station rubbish I was eating and cracked back on, pushing into a headwind towards Glenveagh National Park. My original plan was to take this section very cautiously. It had triggered a ton of wheel issues for me in 2017 that ended my race, but keen to catch Phil I rode hard through the gravel track that runs through the park on my fast rolling road tires. I cleared the section still in one piece and found Phil and another rider refuelling at the castle. Rishi had pushed on ahead and I rode towards the coast stopping for pizza with Phil at a gas station before calling it a day at 157 miles and 11,000ft of climbing in Derrybeg.

Day 3

Having only slept a few hours, I knew it was an important day to hold back my miles again and had a 134 mile route plan to Sligo. I’d miscalculated how much food I’d need though and found myself early morning on a long stretch to Adara with other riders who’d done the same.

A big feed before the mighty Glengeish Pass wasn’t ideal but did the job. The amazingly fast decent paid off for period of fasting and ice cream with Rory Kemper and Phil was a great reward at the bottom. Just as in previous days, Rishi also crept past during this stop. As with Phil she’d become another rider for a cat and mouse chase over the following days.

Day 4

With a very early morning start, I decided it was time to start getting the big miles in and try and sneak up on some of those ahead of me I figured would be starting to get injured or tired. 207 miles was ahead of me to Westport which was where I’d spend the night.

The coastline became quite spectacular around this area, the climb from Ballycastle over the moors being my favourite of the whole race. With a slight tailwind now I was flying and flew to Bangor Erris where I found a ton of bikes I’d not seen before outside the Centra store from where I’d scratched from the race in 2017. The orange frame of Jesko Von Werthern’s bike stood out though, I’d been keen to catch and race my good friend since the start and was ecstatic to have caught him up after he’d put in a very strong performance in the first few days of the race.

About 4 riders set off together but we quickly separated before finding one another again at Achill Island. Achill is stunning but with an out and back route it plays a tough mental game with the second of its two route loops being especially hilly. I’d spied a takeaway at Achill Sound on the way onto the island and managed to catch it on the way back for a curry and naan bread which I basically drank from the container. I’d passed Jesko a little while back but he’d pushed through the wind and crept back up in no time, ate quickly and took off with everyone else. We rode a long gravel greenway powered on wine-gums and caught up with Karl Speed. Karl had taken some damage to his wheelset and was riding a bit more cautiously over this section.

The three of us cruised at similar speeds towards checkpoint two, but as darkness fell Jesko put in a strong effort and disappeared into the night just outside Westport. I shared a B&B with Karl and between the two of us I think we ate an entire family sized walnut cake we’d spied on the table. A quick shower as neither of us were smelling particularly fresh and then 2 or 3 hours sleep at most before setting back off again.

Photo courtesy of Jesko von Werthern

Day 5

After an hour or two riding in the dark and seeing the sunrise, a rather broken me fell through the door into checkpoint two at Connemara. Having the last bits of leftover cake for breakfast I was pretty hungry and quickly locked onto cereals, coffee and toast with enough jam to make me diabetic. I ran into Dave Fortis at breakfast too. I’d not seen Dave since day one and wasn’t quite sure how I’d caught him up, he’d had a bad crash on Achill Island though and like a hero had pushed on with gritted teeth.

The next few miles seemed to take a while but slowly they disappeared, taking in the beautiful “Sky Roads” from Connemara and then taking in peetland all the way to Galway. This section seemed to be pretty fast paced, sneaking up on Vin Cox who also had been riding really well and been ahead of the game from the start. It was another big morale boost finding another face I recognised before pushing up the pace for a sprint into Galway with Karl. Traffic was a little scary for this leg, probably the only time during the race really and although I was pretty tired I managed to keep alert and avoid being squashed by a bus who overtook and then drove me off the road (ironically with a cyclists do not undertake on the left sticker on the back).

Someone who I can only assume was a dot watcher snapped a photo of me on a back road out of Galway and I got a little excited and rode in some big gears along the highway. I knew I was burning calories fast and that there was little chance of catching the last ferry so slowed myself down a bit and took in a couple of petrol station stops to eat some hot food before calling it a night at Ballyvaughan on 164 miles. Phil Wiggins, Dave Fortis, Rishi Fox, two American riders and at least two others seemed to do the same and so an early alarm was set to escape the pack.

Day 6

At 5:19am the sun was just rising and I broke out my iPod for the first time in the race. Some classic rock tunes had a good beat and had me in the zone and powering up the Cliffs of Moher. From what I remembered they’re pretty gradual climbing up and then just one final steep section so I knew I could pace myself comfortably at the speed I was doing. The 34 tooth cassette I’d brought along made a huge difference in the early days of the ride and as I’d not pushed hard early on I had plenty of power left in my legs.

As I dropped over the top of the pass, I spotted Rishi in the distance on the descent. She was on her drop bars about half way down, I shifted my gearing into the big ring and dropped onto my aero bars for an early morning downhill race for the ferry. Ordinarily I’d have said hello but I knew it was going to be tight to catch the boat. I jumped off my bike in the next village where a grocery store was just opening up, I bagged a hot sandwich and filled my bottles and rode quite hard back up the road, asking a delivery driver if Rishi had passed me yet. I think she must have only been a few minutes behind.

The next 15 or so miles to the ferry were relatively flat but it was still early and I’d not really eaten much yet for how far into my ride I was, I found some leftover wine-gums in my bag and intermittently snacked on those, spotting one of the media vehicles passing me as I came up to the ferry. I said a quick hello to Breifne who drove alongside me and necked the last of my water just catching the ferry as it was about to lift its ramp. Nick Cannon, one of the support team, was onboard to welcome me and another rider who’d missed the previous boat.

Photo courtesy of Brendan Barnes

Departing the ferry I rode about 4 miles up the road and found a Centra store that was open, I topped up on coffee, strawberry Ribena for my bottles and a family sized trifle as a second breakfast with another sandwich to take away with me. I had a couple of chocolate bars too for snacking on during the climb up Connor Pass later in the day. It was here that I spotted George and Victoria, fighting the Americans for the 1st place in the pairs category. They were both looking super lean but like me I think they were struggling in the heat, they’d wisely found some shade at the side of the road as I passed them. I’d see them on and off during the rest of the race but they’d always be very consistent, both of them really know how to pace themselves properly.

Descending off Connor Pass, the highest paved road in Ireland was a lot of fun, I had a close call when tourists in a hire car decided to stop in the road to take a photo during a near 50mph descent however and was thankful it wasn’t wet as I squeezed past them and a dry stone at about 40mph. I passed through Dingle quite quickly as its usually touristy places like this where time gets eaten up and rode about another mile out of town for a coffee and a sandwich with another rider from Northern Ireland. We chatted for a few minutes and then both pressed onto the Dingle peninsula. With stunning views of the Skellig islands, where Star Wars was shot, it made for a breathtaking wind down to the day as the sun dropped over the 30 mile Dingle loop.

Day 7

With at least five hours to go until it would technically be day seven, I started riding again at 4:58am. Today would be the Ring of Kerry, one of the toughest sections of the route. Little did I also know that an Atlantic storm, Storm Hector was quickly moving in on the Irish coastline and I was about to take a battering.

The headwinds through the Black Valley and slims such as the Gap of Dunloe and Molls Gap were incredible. I was thrown around the road like a rag doll and the good weather lifted for torrential rain. I found a hardware store where I was able to buy some cheap hiking overtrousers and lend some scissors. I cut off the knees and wore them as waterproof shorts, cursing myself for leaving my fancy Goretex mountain bike shorts at home!

Storm Hector seemed to quieten as I hit Kenmare around 10:30pm , I figured it was only about 400km to the finish from here and I could push through the night if I cleared the next peninsula. I had some pizza slices, another trifle, coffee and for some reason a large chocolate rabbit, and rode into the storm until about 3am. It hadn’t died off and simply got stronger and stronger until I was physically unable to push my bike against the wind. I took shelter in my emergency bivi bag behind a brick wall at a school and sheltered out of the wind for a few hours. I’d ridden 12,000ft of climbing and 195 miles since waking up. The rain had killed my phone and I had no idea if those behind me were still moving or if as I’d hoped , they’d stopped early to shelter from the storm. The wind was roaring and I was pretty scared as even my bike was being blown along the ground as if it was tumbleweed.

Day 8

When morning broke there was still a lot of wind, but in the sunlight everything seemed a lot less scary. It was 4:35am and I climbed onto my saddle for the last time.

There was now 217 miles between me and the finish line in Kinsale. Since Dublin I’d carried an emergency caffeine gel that was supposed to be for an overnight push to the finish, but with no energy left in my body and completely exhausted from fighting the wind the previous night, I necked it and watched my legs spring back to life slowly. Further ahead there were cows in the road where a fence had blown down. As I reached the end of the next peninsula and doubled back I was surprised to see so many riders behind me who’s faces I’d not seen since the start line. My gamble pushing into the storm had paid off and I’d gained a lot of ground.

A series of headwinds on remote peninsulas took me to lambs head peninsula, spotting faces like Phillipa Battye, Gavin Scott, Karl Speed and Nick Underwood. We’d separate out a few times but mostly this pack was relatively nearby to the finish. Philippa got out in front and Nick, Karl and I took off at a fast pace towards Mizen head, the last of the big climbs on the route. 2nd place finisher Bernd Paul came out to cheer us on in a car on this last section before we broke away for the finish. Gavin crept up fast out of Mizen Head and with Karl, Nick and I, the four of us seemed to ride to our limit aware there was still about 95 miles to go.

Photo by Jason Woodhouse

This race within a race gained us ground back on Philippa who was just stepping out of a store, I’d been keen to catch up with Phillipa since the start after seeing how strong she was. I dropped onto my aero bars and chased her down. Almost like a crit race, we had our knees down on corners and sprinted up a few small climbs along the coast. I was able to get in front of her just the once before a call of nature allowed her to creep back past me. Having put in a fair bit of distance between us and the guys behind us at the rather ridiculous pace we were doing so far into such a long race, we dropped the pace and chatted for a bit. I figured this would let me recover and who knows I could maybe get back in front on one of the last climbs, the realisation then set in that she’d just stopped for resupply and I still had about 50 miles to go with 500ml of water left.

I’d been careless and she was still thinking sensibly – about half an hour later Gavin passed me on the climb out to Downmacpatrick Castle on the Kinsale headland. I crawled to the top of the final climb and then descended fast hoping I could catch him but with no luck. As I entered Kinsale it was late in the evening and the pubs and bars had folk music blasting and people spilling out of the doors, I was worried this would be where I’d make a mistake and crash and kept myself alert as I hit the final climb, about 100 metres of what must have been 22% to the finish line. I don’t remember what gears I was using but I can only assume there wasn’t many left as I used the last of my energy to ride up the final hill and spill over the finish line.

“Never again!” I think were my first words before someone passed me a beer and a well done handshake from photographer Jim Imber and a handful of other riders and friends like Jack Peterson. I don’t really remember what happened after that but Phillipa told me she gave me a pizza and I fell asleep on the sofa before refusing to go to the bed I’d been allocated, don’t remember any of it!

A brilliantly exciting end to an epic race.

Kit list

• SPOT Trace satellite tracker x 1
• Garmin 820 x 1
• 10,000mah Pebble cache battery x 1
• Samsung Galaxy S6 smartphone x 1
• Exposure Blaze Rear Light x 1
• Supernova E3 Pure front light x 1
• Charging cables x 1
• USB wall plug (UK fitting) x 1
• Sol Escape emergency bivi bag x 1
• OMM half-length sleeping bag x 1
• half-length sleeping mat x 1
• Berghaus down gilet x 1
• Hi vis tabard x 1
• Bib shorts x 1
• SS jersey x 1
• Gilet x 1
• Arm warmers x 1
• Socks x 2
• Shoes x 1
• Helmet x 1
• Sunglasses x 1
• Pump x 1
• Tyre boot x 1
• Tyre levers x 2
• Puncture patches x 1
• Tubes x 2
• KMC chain quick link x 1
• Summer gloves x 1
• Waterproof jacket x 1
• Merino leg warmers x 1
• Wet chain lube x 1
• Multi-tool with chain breaker x 1
• Rag/buff for chain cleaning x 1
• Travel tooth brush x 1
• Travel toothpaste x 1
• Chamois cream 9ml x 8
• Pro Plus x 1

Bike Setup

• 2016 Scott Solace Disc frameset (56cm)
• DT Swiss RR511db custom wheelset with SP Dynamo hub (KB Cycles)
• Profile Design T2+ Carbon aero bars
• K-edge alloy Garmin mount
• Shimano disc hydraulic calipers
• 160mm center lock disc rotors
• Hutchinson sector 28mm tubeless tyres
• Shimano 11-34T casette
• Shimano Ultegra medium cage derailleur
• Shimano Ultegra 50/34 crankset
• Shimano SPD MTB pedals
• Syncros race saddle
• Specialized side entry bottle cages
• Tacx 500ml water bottles
• Custom bottle cage height mount (Carlos Mazon)
• Altura prototype compact saddle bag
• Altura prototype top tube bag
• Miss Grape Node frame bag

Post-Race

Since finishing the race I’ve not had an opportunity to look at all the stats, I think I might have been in the top 40 riders, but if not top 50. I shaved a lot of time off my previous attempt in 2016 and I’m really happy with the way I rode the race, holding back at the start saved my knees and achilles as expected to let me have a stronger finish.

This is a race I’d encourage anyone to do, its more a battle of the mind than the body but whether you finish or scratch you’ll take something powerful away from the experience. The sense of community both before during and after the race is fantastic, with riders buying in beers and food for the next finisher and encouraging each other on the course. Blogs such as this are left as lasting advice for the following years roulers and well wishes made for the next race.

After the race finished those who didn’t have to shoot off for flights home or were still on the course ate together and shared stories, Guinness ice cream floats became a “thing” with the 2 tons of ice cream that race winner Bjorn Lenhard left behind for everyone and green cycling caps took over Kinsale for an evening of drinks and barbeque for a finishers party sat directly on the course to cheer on riders like Laura Scott were determined to make the party!

Get signed up, next years entries open soon!

Photo courtesy of Jim Imber