Proof of Life

Frightening, that’s one way to describe what happened out on the mountain bike this morning. It had nothing to do with any white knuckle single track or any 80kmh decent. No, it was much more sedate than that. In fact my bike wasn’t even moving when it happened.

To put things into a bit of context first. Living in Clonmel there are some great options for routes on road, but also off road on gravel or mountain bikes. To the north east there’s Slievenamon which has forest roads and single track. To the south east there’s Tickincor and Kilsheelan woods where there are over 40km of forest roads and some nice flowing single track. Then on the south west of the town there’s a very large area that stretches from the Holy Year cross overlooking the town, out past Careys Castle and all the way to Ballymacarbry in the heart of the Nire valley. Here you can cover a huge amount of forest roads and even more single track, ask anyone who has done the Nire Valley Drop and they will tell you all about it.

Finally there is Kilnamac wood to the west of the town. The smallest of all 4 choices and the one that often makes up an initial phase of longer spins where a loop inside Kilnamac is followed by a long climb up near the Sterk where an abundance of choices leads back through Careys castle and downhill into the town once again.

This morning I was looking for a handy spin so decided to head for Kilnamac to do a quick loop.

As has been the case for a few weeks now the sign at the gate asking you to keep an eye out for the keys to a Toyota is still there. The Toyota isn’t though, so maybe they found the keys and left the sign behind.

After a few hundred meters I passed a lady out walking her 4 dogs, at least 3 of which seemed to be on a single lead. The things you notice on a bike. But more of that to come shortly.

I read somewhere during the week that Marlefield house was on the market for €1.3 million so as I approached a clearing with a view down over the estate I decided to stop and take a photo. I should have just kept going.

No photo is complete without a bike, so I was rummaging around looking for a stick to wedge in between the back wheel and the bottom bracket which would act as a prop stand when I spotted a green wellington boot. Just the one, and it was attached to what looked like a pair of waterproof trousers.

At first I thought that someone had just dumped them there, then I thought that perhaps it was a piece of a scarecrow, then my final thought was that perhaps it was a person. The question was though, if it was a person, were they alive?

I got a fright so just landed the bike in against the bushes and took a quick photo. Surely with all this noise if it was a real person they would move or look around. But there was not a single stir from the green Wellington.

Thoughts ran through my mind. Who would have decided to come out here into a wood on a rainy morning for a sleep. Nobody that I could think of.

Next question, if this is a homeless person who slept out here all night would they still be alive, or something else.

If it was a dead body or if it was a homeless person in trouble, then I could not just hop on my bike and ride away. I would have to go check to get proof of life, if it was still there.

A third scenario also presented itself. What if this was some crazy lunatic lying in wait for their moment to attack a person who might happen upon them.

I’m no Jack Reacher, Joe Pike or Evan Smoak. If somebody pulls a machete or a gun on me I probably won’t be able to do much about it. So I pointed my bike back down the hill clipped in one leg leaned over near what was now clearly a body of undetermined occupancy and left out a roar.

‘Are you alright there Buddy?’

I jumped a little and definitely frightened myself more than the occupied body.

A feint response came back in a accent closer to one from Krakow than Kilsheelan :

‘I’m fine, just taking a rest’

‘No problem, just checking you were alive, that’s all’

And off I went, proof of life having been confirmed with the new found knowledge that there are people in this World who like to lie down in absolute stillness on cold wet ground in the rain to have a rest. Maybe it was some kind of zen mindfulness thing. I’ve been doing a good bit of yoga lately so maybe I should give it a try, or maybe not.

A little further on I came upon the Archery groups hacienda. Someone having been shot with an arrow would have been another possible scenario for my earlier encounter had I thought of it at the time.

I then decided that I should go for a look at Bagwells folly seeing as I was so close to it. Colonel Bagwell was a large landlord many moons ago and local folklore tells that he would bring the daughters of some of his tenants up to his his observatory to have his way with them. I don’t know anyone who was around back then so can’t confirm whether this was true or false. The ruins of the observatory are still there though.

On my way back down I spotted another form in stillness observing my approach. Once again I looked for proof of life but this time found none. It was just a replica Wild Boar for the Archery club to shoot at.

Having had enough excitement for one day I decided to head for home and around a corner I discovered a campfire all set up in the middle of the roadway. More proof of life but not necessarily proof of intelligence.

Today was proof once more that everyday can be an adventure, especially out on a bike.

Barry