I
started off in Scarva, Co Down, and cycled up the canal towpath towards
Portadown. The morning was overcast with a cool NW breeze. I’d consulted three
weather forecasts: the BBC, the Norwegian Weather Service and Met Eireann.
There was not unanimity. Met Eireann gave a warm and sunny day. The other
two forecast a cool and overcast day. I decide to wear shorts and my versatile windproof
top with long-sleeves, which could be zipped off to form a short-sleeve. I
hoped the sun would come out, but like so many days here recently, I was
prepared for cooler conditions.
The
towpath was quiet until I got to Moneypenny’s Lock, then the normal groups of
dog walkers were out and about. Dark clouds rolled in from the west and I felt
the temperature go down until I began to chill. I stopped to put my cap on
under my helmet and to switch my road lights on (one front, one rear). A good
thing about Portadown, Co Armagh, is that the towpath brings you right into the
centre and then it is just a short ride up the Garvaghy Rd to escape into minor
roads and green fields. After about a mile you are out of town, past the dark
spire of Drumcree and away.
Around
the southern edge of Lough Neagh is pleasant cycling through undulating country.
The settlements are very small and well spread out. The place names all seem to
have the stem Derry, so assumedly there were plenty of oak groves here at one
time. The main businesses now seem to be market gardening with polytunnels. At
Maghery there is a footbridge over the River Blackwater that takes you into Co
Tyrone. The small roads on the other side head across peat fields until you get
to Brockagh and Mountjoy Castle (built during the plantation).
There
is a shop here and, at 23 miles, I made it my first stop. I bought water and a
banana and sat on a bench in the graveyard and ate my snacks. In my saddle-bag
I had slices of malt loaf, snack cheeses and cereal bars. A graveyard is usually
a peaceful stop and is always a good place to contemplate. In front of me were
the graves of Michael, who was ‘everyone’s friend’ but died aged 18, and baby
Ciara ‘born asleep’.
I
carried on around the Lough taking all the smaller roads I could. The land is a
bit hillier here and you get some excellent views of the water. But the best
viewpoint by far is at Ardboe, the hill of the cow, where you can sit on a
bench besides a ruined church and see the Mournes and Slieve Gullion across the
Lough on the horizon. It also possesses one of the finest high crosses in NI, sited
at a place where a magic cow reputedly emerged from the Lough.
Eventually
I was forced to return to the main road that goes around the Lough. At this point I
turned west towards Cookstown until I reached Coagh, a wee village which looks
very down on its luck. It sits at the border between Cos Tyrone and Derry. I
stopped for a snack in the picnic area beside the River Ballinderry. No-one was
about. I’d travelled 42 miles and I was feeling pleased with myself. It was
early afternoon and time to head back. I’d return using a variation of my
outward route. The weather had warmed up a little, but it was still windy and
overcast. It certainly didn’t feel warm enough to zip my long sleeves off. You
needed sunshine for that. It was another typical summer’s day in NI.
