I left Yellow House, as quiet as a mouse, I was bound for the Glen of Imaal. Travelling Taylor's Road With my bike and my load, Not knowing if I'd make it at all.
Turn on Stocking Lane and my legs take the strain Of the hill going to Kilakee. As the gradient increases My cadence decreases, Going from twelve miles-an-hour to just three.
Heading down to Glencree, there were just sheep and me In that area of wild desolation. The speed kept increasing, The hard breathing ceasing. At least that was some consolation.
The sight of Kippure was a sign, I was sure, I was approaching the top of the hill. A small bit of "flat" And then, that was that. Sally Gap was another hill still.
At the top of the height, a few trees on the right Showed the entrance to Kippure relay station. But for poles in the ground And the mast on high ground, There was no sign of civilisation.
As I passed Luggala, I looked back in awe At the hills I'd already ascended. I pointed downhill And it was quite the thrill To be moving as Surly intended.
There in all majesty, stood proud Tonlegee With Arse to the wind over there. But the wind in my face Dictated my pace And I screamed to the air "It's not fair!"
A Clodagh Duff flapjack gave me my strength back For the climb to Shay Elliott memorial. To get there by bike With a load if you like Is still quite a good testimonial.
Overtaken by flies, attacking my eyes I struggle up the last climb I'm sure. Aghavanagh Bridge Is below the ridge Of Slievemaan above Glenmalure.
Filling water bottles now, on the banks of the Ow, I ponder my trip nearly ended. The final big ask, I bend to the task, Legs weary and energy expended.
Turn left for Donard, now that wasn't so hard, Army land beckons with Fenton's. Pilgrimage complete, A sandwich to eat, Seskin Bridge is the last destination.
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