strategy melted away that
morning. The all-business
Day 1 opening salvo from Dublin
to Derry meant that our first
views of the Wild Atlantic Way
were reserved for the next morn-
ing. The ocean shimmering to our
right, we drifted through a paved couloir, bucolic
farms on one side, abrupt cliffs on the other. We
were drunk on rolling emerald hills. Our giddiness
reached a pinnacle later that day. We had heard
about the gravel descent of Glenveagh National
Park, whispers and anxious chatter about the
7km rocky, narrow goat path, and had been lick-
ing our chops in anticipation. A small group of
riders gathered around a wood and metal gate that
opened to the valley below. Maybe it was because
of our tires (big ol’ Donnelly Strada USH 650B x
42s) or our grin-plastered faces, or both, but the
group encouraged us through the gate first. We
hooted and hollered our way down, as the waters
of Lough Beagh glittered blue below. Our faces
hurt from smiling.IT TOOK A FEW DAYS FOR US TO SETTLE INTO
the rhythm of life on the road. On Day 4, though,
everything started to click. With our early missteps,
we hadn’t dared look at the tracking page to see
how our competitors were faring. But that morn-
ing, after silently pedaling past a duo snoozing in
a farm field, we suspected (and then confirmed)
that we had just passed the current leaders of the
team division: George Cordal and Victoria Mayes
from the U.K. The realization that we had a chance
at the team victory was just the shot of adrenaline
we needed—and kicked off a cat-and-mouse game
that would carry us into Hector’s wild embrace.
Over the next few days, George and Vic would
wait until we had stopped for the night and press
on, piling on k’s while we stacked z’s.
At some point the next day, we would pass them.
With the halfway checkpoint less than 100km away,we slipped out of our B&B in the wee hours of our
fifth day. During the approach to Coonemara Hostel,
we spied two red taillights in the distance. George
and Vic. They had passed us again. Brad and I,
embracing our “fast on the bike, slow off the bike”
reputation, cruised past George and Vic, exchanging
pleasant morning greetings. Later we joked about
who was going to sneak out on the road while the
other went to the bathroom.
With a capable duo hot on our heels, race tactics
were back on the table. The race to the ferry in
Shannon would offer our first big chance to cata-
pult ahead of the chasing team. If we got pedaling
shortly after midnight on Day 6, we could make
the first ferry and cross the Shannon Estuary with
an hour cushion before the boat would return to
make the same trip again. In a 2,400km race, an
hour is nothing, but being first to the ferry felt like
a psychological boost. If we were in a position for
PSYOPs, we were in a position to win.
The midnight departure meant that we passed HALFWAY
THROUGH THE
FIRST LONG DAY,
MATT AND BRAD
DINE CURBSIDE
ON THEIR
FAVORITE FOOD.
- PACK LIGHT /
We carried the
minimum: a kit,
extra base layer,
arm and leg
warmers, long-
fingered gloves,
two pairs of
socks, raincoat,
cap, insulated
vest, hanging-
out shorts, and
a fleece that
doubled as an
emergency on-
bike layer. We
brought basic
repair supplies,
tools, quicklinks,
tubes, spare cable
and housing, one
spare cleat, plus
enough tubes for
two flats apiece. - DIAL YOUR
SETUP /Never let
your bike be the
reason you don’t
finish. Before you
leave, replace
worn parts and
equip your bike
for the terrain
and conditions.- SHIP AHEAD /
We pre-shipped
supplies to our
B&Bs every few
days so we had
fresh kits, food,
and drink mix.
What we didn’t
use, we shipped
to the finish. Pro
tip: Clear this
with the race pro-
moter. Events like
the Trans Conti-
nental Race frown
upon mail drops,
while others like
the TransAm
consider it part
of the game.
HOW TO SURVIVE
A MULTIDAY TRIP
ISSUE 1 | 2020 • BICYCLING.COM 81