Dublin to West Kerry on a motorbike

This week's Independent News & Media Irsh regional newspapers' column.

Michael Commane

Have you ever driven a motorbike?

Last Friday week, more or less on a whim, I jumped up on my motorbike in Dublin at 17.15, destination Castlegregory in West Kerry.

It was sort of crazy as I had to return the following day. It meant covering approximately 700 kilometres in 24 hours.

Leaving Dublin at peak rush hour was unwise. Traffic was bumper-to-bumper, which was made worse with road widening works between Naas and Newbridge.

No doubt you have seen motorbikes zoom in and out between cars in long traffic jams. They make it look easy and are the envy of those sitting in stationary cars. 

I tried doing that on Friday but failed miserably. I attempted zigzagging but quickly grew scared and decided to drive sedately right on the edge of the hard shoulder. I’d say I looked sort of pathetic. I’m no Evel Knievel.

South of Newbridge it all changed and I was as free as a bird. But a motorway is always a motorway, it’s boring. There is the mouth-watering countryside to be seen and on a motorbike the vantage point is much better than in a car but a motorway always remains a motorway. 

No, not to save the toll fee, rather for the peace and quiet of slower roads, I left the motorway before Portlaoise. It was surprisingly quiet with little or no traffic. It made for perfect motorbiking. I could sit up on the bike and scan the fabulous Irish scenery, though it was striking how burned the countryside looked. That lush greenness was not in evidence.

I had been dreading how hot and uncomfortable it would be wearing all that motorbike gear. But I was surprised, once out on the open road with my jacket partly open, how fresh and cool it was. I am reminded of this anonymous quote: ‘Only a biker knows why a dog sticks his head out of a car window.’

South of Limerick panic sets in. Petrol gauge is off the red. That sensation of running out of petrol on a motorbike in late evening is not pleasant. You look at the gauge and shout out an expletive. 

With your head encased in a helmet all your words remain silent. 

I was in a bit of a fix. A car pulls up outside a shop. I drive up to the parked car, raise the visor of my helmet and ask the driver how far away is the next petrol station. For a millisecond or so he looks at me, then smiles and says ‘two or three miles, in Clarina’. 

Sounding apprehensive I ask him is it two or three. He gets the message and realises that I’m nervous. At that he says: ‘You drive off and I’ll follow you.’ I was flabbergasted. I got to the filling station, the man turned around and drove back to where I met him. What a lovely act of kindness.

The views along the Shannon were spectacular. I could see over to Clare, the stacks at Moneypoint power station. There is an elegance about wind turbines that adds to the makeup of the Irish landscape. 

All the different smells, something you miss in a car. And then the setting sun. It was sensational. And certainly an experience of living in the now. 

It was my first time to see a cruise ship at Foynes.

With a few stops en route I arrived in Castlegregory close to 22.15 as high as a kite. Great fun and highly recommended.