Nearing the half way mark of my time in Ireland I really started to notice changes within myself. The pre-Ireland Deanna, for example, would have rather died than admit defeat in pretty much any circumstance. The new me, however, just laughs at the “Deanna-ness” of the circumstances in which I often find myself. For example, prior to landing in Dublin I would never have allowed a veritable stranger to turn my bike around for me! But when I told Ruben I couldn’t keep up with him and his pals he looked at me for a longish moment and said, “You be careful turning around right here. It’s pretty tight”. I looked, for the first time, at the stupid spot in which I’d pulled over and just laughed. “Yup! It sure is!”

My “knee-jerk-and-almost-out-loud-but-thankfully-held-in” pre-Ireland thought when Ruben offered to turn my bike around for me was, “no damn way buddy!”. But the reality was that it really was a tight spot and it would likely have been an eleventy-four point turn for me to get my bike pointed back in the right direction. Thinking back to my spill outside Kinsale was enough encouragement for me to accept.

So I hopped off, Ruben hopped on and in 3 seconds my bike was pointed in the right direction without incident. I marveled at how I wasn’t flustered over admitting his assistance was appreciated. I marveled at how he did what he did. And I marveled yet again over learning WHAT he did. It turns out that constant, but slight, tension on the throttle while using your back brake leads to glorious ease of maneuvering in tight situations.

I need to work on how this applies to life off the bike too….

I rode on and eventually felt fatigue and cold settling comfortably into my weary body. I don’t know how many hours I’d been on the road at this point, but a hot coffee would have been perfect about now. Seemingly immediately after this thought floated to the universe a large hotel loomed in the distance. When I saw another biker out front holding a “pink-cup-of-probably-hot-something“, I hauled on the brakes. He was smiling in my direction as I strode up to say hello. Tom was a beacon. Whether it his warm smile, or the pink cardboard promise of a hot drink, I believe I was meant to find him.

As though friends for a long while already, we fell into conversation about biking, the love of the road, and timely hot drinks. I excused myself to navigate the crowd inside and when I rejoined Tom, my own pink-cup-of-definitely-hot-coffee in hand, we discussed the clear signs of torrential downpour ahead. Now I had enjoyed nothing but sunshine and unicorns to this point, my friends, and I wasn’t about to disrupt that perfect record just yet. So when Tom told me he was also headed to Westport and was also looking to avoid the rain, I had a look at his map too. We looked over the route, sipped our coffee, and talked some more about biking and staying dry. It was nice to be in Tom’s company; just hanging out and laughing like we’d been here many a time before.

I was about half way through my pink cup when another group of bikers smoked past us. The biker bringing up the rear made an impressively short stop and called out to make sure I was o.k. It was Ruben! I gave him the thumbs up to let him know all was well and off he went. Given that I started out my day feeling a bit low, it was warm and fuzzy to feel part of the biker community.

Tom invited me to follow him in to Westport and the ride was beautiful. I didn’t realize as we rode through the valley that I was entering County Mayo; reportedly the county of my ancestors. Although Tom was far ahead, it felt good knowing that I was with a friend as I entered a new phase of my journey. Leenaun was breathtaking and as I watched the shadows of the clouds graze along the hillsides I felt that familiar sense of peace and joy permeate my being. Once again I felt like I was home.

Being the cautious rider I am, I watched Tom disappear over the horizon as he cranked on his throttle and passed the slow pokes meandering along the twists and turns through the Sheeffry and Mweelrea mountains. I considered following suit, but you need to remember something, my dear readers. I’m an Alberta girl; the bulk of my riding is on endless, bendless roads with nary a twist like you see in Ireland! So I watched his tail lights disappear and wondered if that was the last I’d see of my new friend.

I was happy to discover Tom waiting on the side of the road just as I pulled into town. We had a chuckle over my ‘patience’ (his word…so kind! ha ha ha ha! ) and agreed to find some coffee before I hunted down my hotel and he turned around for home.

The Happy Canuck and new best pal, Tom

And as per almost always….I parked in a not-so-awesome manner. I advised Tom I wasn’t into parking on sidewalks just yet so when he found a premium sidewalk spot right next to an open street spot, it was quite perfect. Well…almost. You see I never think of backing in until I’ve already pulled in nose first. So Tom pushed me out and I backed in.  Ok so it’s not like it was an incline that I would have had to back out of, but backing into traffic is just not so awesome.

Ruben snapped a pic of my bike before we spotted him in Westport.

Just as Tom and I were saying ‘so long’, you’ll never guess who pulled up beside my bike. Yup! it was Ruben. He saw my bike before he saw me and was surprised that I’d beat him to Westport!

Tom suggested to me that day that I was born under a lucky star. I don’t know about that, but I think I was certainly guided by one. And it twinkled down on me with an affinity for motorbikes and pink cardboard cups! I made a good friend in Tom and feel as though my soul grew ears that day.

More on that later…