MARY RUSSELLLtreats herself to a carefree cycle along the Portadown to Newry Canal towpath, pausing to admire the heavenly countryside along the way
I’VE BEEN SAVING it up, this last treat of summer, and now here it is ahead of me: 20 miles of idyllic cycle trail along the old Porta-down to Newry Canal towpath, all of it off-road.
No matter that the back tyre seems a bit flat and the connector on my pump doesn’t look right. No matter that I’ve packed nothing, no water, no bananas, no glucose tabs, no map even.
I do have a raincoat though, for Hurricane Katia, hitching a lift on an Atlantic Gulf Stream is expected to bluster in earlier than expected.
As for sustenance, that’s all awaiting me at Scarva village, which is the halfway point, give or take a few miles depending on which signpost you use.
And there’s no need of a map for – since the trail follows the canal – the only way I can go is forward, and the route map, printed from the computer, tells me everything I need to know, with pictures.
So the pedals start to whirr as I leave Portadown and hit Whitecoat, where the River Bann flows in round the corner on its way northwards to Lough Neagh while the old Newry Canal, and my bike, continue southwards.
This was once a very important waterway, the ruined remains of the lock-keepers’ and sluice-keepers’ cottages marking its length. The horses were stabled close to the locks while the lightermen had a sleep and the lock-keeper entered everything in the ledger for inspection at HQ in Newry.
Horses, guided by young boys, pulled the barges along the canal which, by the time it had reached Newry, had risen to a lofty 24m above sea-level, courtesy of the 14 locks en route. In fact, this is the oldest summit-level canal in these islands.
Just after Whitecoat is Moneypenny Lock, run by the Moneypenny family for 80 years though no sign, alas, of Miss Moneypenny.
And then Knock Bridge where coins from the time of George III and IV have been found and I think I know why. Card players used to gather here to have a quiet game or two, maybe to avoid the inland revenue for, to raise cash to build the canal, a tax was levied on dice and playing cards.
OPENED IN 1742, the canal was used to bring coal, mined in Coalisland, down to Newry from where it could be despatched, under sail, to Dublin. A horse and cart could pull only one tonne of coal whereas a barge could take 70 tonnes. This was progress, until the railways took over.
Those days of commercial, inland waterways are long since gone, with the canal dried up in many places though the tarmac trail alongside it takes cyclists, runners, joggers and pedestrians through heavenly countryside, with everyone moving at their own pace. The guide says you can do the 20 miles in two and a half hours, but I took a massive four and a half hours. Why? Because there is so much to stop and stare at.
Look, on the opposite bank, a swan family, parents and their three cygnets, all preening themselves. And here, at Terryhoogan Lock, over there’s the house where John Wesley, one of my favourite non-conformists, is reputed to have stayed.
And what’s this? A man in high-viz outfit tearing around a blind corner under a bridge, blowing his whistle non-stop to warn of his approach.
Then a crowd of young guys from Craigavon come rollicking along, spending an activity week cycling and doing a bit of canoeing. And the hedgerows blooming with mouth-watering fruits if you’re that way inclined: sloes (gin!) elderflower berries (wine!) and gleaming red crab apples (cider!)
One welcome distraction are the numerous information boards at lock-keepers’ cottages and bridges that give you a respectable reason to dismount and get some feeling back into your saddle-sore bum.
But, you think, just another bridge. So what? Except the notice board describes it as a graceful, iron arch and suddenly that’s what you see – grace in bridge-building skills from another age.
A speeding cyclist overtakes me: “You’re goin’ well,” he shouts before disappearing into a tunnel of greenery filled with blinding sunlight, while out of it appears a small girl cycling towards me, on her pink two-wheeler, followed by her mother. She’s Amy, all of four years old and no stabilisers. Hell, if she can do it . . .
SOLO CYCLING is a great time to have thoughts, lofty or otherwise. There’s a silence that is contemplative and I recall that, not for nothing, this route has been partly funded by the Peace and Reconciliation Programme. History happens all along it, punctuated with names such as Cromwell and King Billy so it’s money well spent.
Sustrans, the sustainable travel organisation, has also contributed, and no less than three councils – Newry, Craigavon and Banbridge – have all played their part, while the cross- Border rail service makes it possible to have a great day out, halfway between Dublin and Belfast.
Then, before I know it, I’ve arrived at Scarva’s very own tearooms where the temptations are beyond refusing: local honey, thick home-made celery soup and toasted sandwiches of every variety.
People here are all chat – it’s that kind of place. George Blakely, from Comber, Co Down, does the trail about four times a year. Leaves the car in Belfast, gets the train to Newry, cycles to Portadown and the train back to Belfast.
Occasionally, he puts a bit of icing on the cake by cycling on to Lurgan.
Margaret Atkinson and Dorothy Harrison, here for lunch, sometimes do the walk and suggest cyclists should ring their bells to warn walkers when they’re coming up behind them. (Memo to self: buy bell.)
They’re fans of the tearooms and point out the sunken garden where the canal boats used to pull in but which is now a lovely lawn and home, on summer Sunday afternoons, to different bands who come to play for an hour or so.
Can you think of anything more seductive? I can’t, unless it’s the tearoom’s own home-made ice cream.
George chides me gently for not wearing a helmet and Dorothy mentions the safety aspects of the helmet when its owner crashes, and there’s talk of heads being gashed and so forth, but Margaret says it happens only very rarely. So that’s okay.
THEN IT’S OFF on the last lap – 12 miles to Newry and this time, I tell myself sternly, less of the stopping.
But it doesn’t work. Really, you need to give a whole day to ambling along, enjoying the scent of the hedgerows, which always remind me of toffee and the pungent whiff of silage that has me wrinkling my urban nose before I remind myself we’re an agricultural country, right?
And then there’s all the things to note: the many sturdy wooden seats along the way, the clearings down to the water, the bike bars in case you want to take a wee dander into a nearby field, the many well-trained dogs who sit politely on the grass verge as you pedal past.
And suddenly I’m in Newry, the noise of which makes me realise the cocoon of silence I have been travelling in. I also realise why so many cyclists I met were going the other way: Newry train station is a long hard climb up the hill unlike Portadown where the station is on the same level as the rest of the town.
Lesson for another time: Newry to Portadown is your only man. And I’ll certainly be back another time, no doubt about that
Cycling the canal....
- Mary Russell travelled by train from Dublin to Portadown, then cycled to Newry from where she took the train back to Dublin. Return day fare €31.50, journey time one hour.
- Bikes go free on the Enterprise train, but none are allowed before 9.30am. No charge for bike or for passengers in possession of a bus pass.
- Information on the Newry Canal Cycle Trail which is also part of the Ulster Way at cycleni.com/110/ newry-canal-towpath/
- Scarva Tearooms, open April to September, Tuesdays to Sundays 9am-5pm, and remains open weekends until Christmas.
-The Newry Canal Cycle Trail (20 miles) is flat and off road, apart from a few places where it crosses a secondary road. Anyone preferring a shorter option could make the return trip on foot or by bike, Portadown to Scarva Tearooms, which is 14 miles.
- Portadown to Newry cycle trail is part of a network of trails throughout Northern Ireland, many of them linked. Details from Sustrans at info@sustrans.co.uk