Day 7: Clifden to Castlebar

Waking up in the van

After a sleep deprived night having been battered by gale force winds (and a street light blazing right above the boy's tent), we crawled to a very late start. Mum and Emily scraped together the last of the food rations to serve up a breakfast of cold rice pudding. The boys put on every bit of clothing available: arm warmers, leg warmers, overshoes, jumpers and rain jackets all came out to counter the chilly morning and its driving rain.

The ridiculous winds played havoc with the support team's attempts to pack away the tent, but it was great news for the riders as it had swung round to a southerly and pushed us along all day. The day's ride took us through dramatic mountain passes and along side epic loughs (lakes), unfortunately we couldn't see any of it through a thick sheet of misty rain. The day became about getting through the ride as fast as possible and we flew through the countryside, getting up to wind-assisted speeds of 30mph on the flat - it was fun.

At the 30 mile mark, when we usually stop to refuel, we spotted a quaint Irish pub at the side of the road, but as we pulled up, preparing ourselves for a refreshing Guinness, we discovered it had long been abandoned. We had to make do with a banana and some brown peaty water instead. 10 miles later we swept into the town of Westport and down into its harbour for fish and chips in a rare spell of sunshine. We finished off the last mushy pea just as the first drops of rain hit us and we were forced to tackle the steep hill out of the town. All that remained was a blast down an 'N' road - the equivalent of an English 'A' road. We arrived in Castlebar, got lost, asked someone in McDonald's where the camp site was, found it and crashed out. 

After the dramas of the past couple of days, the team enjoyed a night of drinking, cards, and board games. Emily won at cards.

Mum contends with the wind

Speed eating before the rain returns

Chillin' in the Irish ghetto