2019-11-01_Bicycling

1. MSR POCKETROCKET 2
   STOVE / $45 /This 2.6-ounce
   stove heats efficiently, boiling
   a liter of water in 3.5 minutes,
   even in blustery conditions.


2. BLACK DIAMOND ICON
   HEADLAMP / $100 /It’s bright
   (500 lumens!), waterproof,
   and takes four AA batteries
   so you can swap if it dies on
   an epic ride.


3. BIG AGNES FLY CREEK HV
   UL1 BIKEPACK TENT / $360 /
   This single-person tent packs
   up small enough to hang from
   your top tube, yet has all you
   need for an overnight, includ-
   ing a waterproof rain fly and
   interior mesh pockets.


4. SEA TO SUMMIT SPARK
   ULTRALIGHT 40°F SLEEP-
   ING BAG / $299 / Rated to 40
   degrees Fahrenheit, this bag
   uses 850+ fill goose down and
   adds just 12 ounces to your
   pack.—Daniel Roe

4 BIKEPACKING

ESSENTIALS

With nothing left to do but roll onward, I remem-

bered Andy Hampsten’s famous ride up the Gavia at

the 1988 Giro d’Italia. At the top, in the middle of a

snowstorm, he stuffed newspaper in his jersey for

added warmth. Inspired, I found some free papers

and together Brad and I filled each other’s jerseys.

We added some rubber dish gloves at the checkout,

and were ready for battle.

Over the next four hours, Brad and I covered a

stupendously slow and increasingly dangerous 56km,

crawling westward along the Ring of Beara toward

Dursey Island. A few miles east of Allihies, we finally

met Hector’s full fury. Climbing a short pass with

grades over 20 percent, I was blown across the road

and off the bike. The edges of the road crumbled

away to a gray void, the ground indistinct from the

sky. I tried to get back on my bike but it kept slid-

ing from beneath me, f loating at a 20-degree angle

from the pavement. I tentatively walked forward,

hunched over the bar, hoping to keep the bike on

the ground. Once I reached the summit, I found

partial shelter from the wind, mounted, and began a

cautious descent, all the while searching for Brad’s

taillight in the distance.

We met up again a few minutes later after the

corkscrew descent on the outskirts of Kilmackil-

logue Harbour, seeking shelter from the wind behind

a small farmhouse. It was the first time we weren’t

shouting to communicate since the grocery store

hours earlier. Our destination, Castletownbere,

some 65km away, seemed beyond unreachable, it

seemed reckless. The hostel in Allihies would have

to do. It had taken us a harrowing 18 hours to cover

just over 280km, but we were done for the day.

Predicted winds for the next morning hovered

around 60kph until 8:00 a.m., and a quick check on

George and Vic put them at least four hours behind

us. We slept like rocks and woke to a dazzling sun.

We had the lead, a good night’s sleep, and the finish

line a tantalizing 330km away. By the time we

reached Mizen Head 10 hours later, we had opened

the gap to our chasers to 100km. We tacked east,

winds to our back, and raced to the finish line.

Seven days, 15 hours, and 43 minutes after leaving

Dublin, Brad and I rode into Kinsale, exhausted,

happy, but more than anything, grateful. A bleary-

eyed Adrian, near delirium from a sleepless seven

days, cracked open a lukewarm can of Guinness and

handed it my way. Wilder than expected, more stun-

ning than imagined, the experience had pushed us

to the edge of failure, our best laid plans a twisted

wreckage. But we survived Hector—and the Wild

Atlantic Way.

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84 BICYCLING.COM • ISSUE 1 | 2020

La

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tov

e);

Co

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y

THE DINGLE

PENINSULA IS

LINED WITH

HEDGEROWS

AND SHEEP.