Editor’s note: Our intrepid – and now, intermittent – sports reporter Chuck Anschutz is off on another bicycle excursion. Chuck and his cousin, Mark Dodge, left the US in late May for a four-week, two-wheel tour of Ireland. Here is the final installment of his report.

We had it all figured out.

The blustering tailwind we had been riding all morning would take us onto Ireland’s second most northerly peninsula. By noon we would catch the ferry across Loch Swilly to Inishowen, the island’s northernmost peninsula, where we would cross to another ferry to the shore of British-occupied Northern Ireland.

We should have just enough time – a couple of days – to cruise the famous Giant’s Causeway and visit my former babysitter near Coleraine (my family lived there for six months when I was two).

We’d then race into Belfast, throw our bikes on a bus and make it to Dublin’s airport just in time to catch our flights home.

Of course, this all fell apart on the tiny boat ramp in Rathmullen.

“There would be no boat,” said a local woman hanging out near the abandoned ramp. “It was damaged coming out of dry dock in Scotland. Might start tomorrow, though. Or maybe next week.”

Rats.

Retracing our path against 40 mph headwinds to get around Loch Swilly had no appeal. And with the breeze actually coming slightly from the southeast, the wind would still taunt us as we headed west to Derry (or Londonderry, if you’re insensitive to the occupation).

After enjoying Ireland’s narrow, desolate country roads for most of three weeks, the thought of barreling into big city traffic was almost migraine-inducing.

Naturally we did what you are supposed to do when you get to crossroads on a bike trip. We leaned back on a pleasant grassy slope and ate sandwiches.

Within the hour a young Swiss couple on bicycles pulled in from the opposite direction, also hoping to catch the non-existent ferry. More importantly for us, they had information that would make our decision more cut-and-dry.

No how, no way do you throw your bicycle on an Irish bus, they told us. It’s simply not allowed. They’ve tried. Many times.

So now our instincts were clearly telling us to keep riding the wind. There would be no Giant’s Causeway and no visit with the babysitter, at least on this trip.

But abandoning and adjusting plans is just something you learn to do on a bike trip. In fact, being able to do so is one of the most freeing feelings you’ll know.

On that day, we let the wind determine our direction and it blew us all the way up a spectacular coastal road to a lighthouse on Fanad Head, Ireland’s second northernmost point.

We eventually had to turn around, of course, but by the time we did, the wind had eased somewhat. We skirted through a section of the occupied north and were able to beeline it to Dublin’s airport in four moderate riding days. And along the way we saw parts of Ireland we hadn’t researched.

Among them was Kells and the surrounding area, where Irish solidarity took greater root in the 11th and 12th centuries. We caught brilliant views of the castle in Trim (Europe’s largest Anglo-Norman structure and where much of Braveheart was filmed) and the 12th century Bective Abbey.

This remote second Cistercian monastery got an “A” bicycling touring grade from us, not just because it was an impressive structure rich with history, but it was absolutely free of charge, advertising or fanfare. There were not even any people in sight as we maneuvered a cow pasture on foot to get there.

Had we not been told of the structure’s significance a day earlier, we would have passed it by like we did so many mysterious crumbling stone structures that dot Ireland’s landscape.

On our final morning, we biked the few miles to the Dublin airport from nearby Swords, changed clothes in the shadow of a small chapel on the grounds, prepared our bicycles for shipping and flew home.

As much as I had cursed it, the wind had treated us well.

If I’ve talked you into the planning stage for a bike trip to the Emerald Isle, here are a few parting tips.

THE ROADS

Seek out the tiny back country ways, most of which are marked on decent highway maps. These are narrow and may add two or three times to your length, but this is offset by stress-free riding. This is why you brought a bike, right? If you are really in a hurry at some stage, take the absolute biggest roads you can find. These generally have generous shoulders (some big cities have lanes exclusively for bikes and busses). It’s the common main roads between moderately-sized towns that are the worst, with heavy traffic and virtually no shoulder.

PLACES TO STAY

We opted not to camp during this trip, but one definitely can do this trip with a tent and sleeping bag. Though “official” camp sites are not much cheaper than hostels, Ireland is a place where a friendly farmer might share for a tiny corner of his field. Bicycle tourists, if courteous, are generally a welcomed sight.

Bed and breakfasts are pretty much everywhere in Ireland and, though many recommend booking ahead, which we hate to do on a bicycle; it’s not necessary on our trip. Even at 25 to 45 Euro (the rate is about $1.30 per Euro) these B & Bs are still less expensive than hotels and perfectly comfortable. But if that’s generally too expensive (it was for us), then hostels are the way to go. You get a bunk, with a bathroom usually down the hall, for about 12 to 16 Euro. If that seems expensive, it is, but remember, Ireland’s economy is booming.

EATING

A major selling point of the hostel is the availability of a kitchen. Our rule was to eat lunch (bread, cheese, fruit, juice, canned beans or sardines and chocolate) out of a market and buy rice or noodles, cereal, eggs, more bread, canned tuna or salmon, a vegetable and milk for dinner and breakfast, prepared ourselves at the hostel. There is always a “free” bin at the hostels, with a few food staples available (contribute if you want good Karma) and teaming up with other international guests sometimes made for downright gourmet meals, at a minimal cost. We still left a little room for a visit to a classic Irish pub, for a Guinness and a hardy meal, or a quick stop at a fish-and-chips shop. And, at B & Bs, you usually get a meat-heavy Full Irish Breakfast, which easily ranks among the heartiest feeds I’ve experienced.

SHIPPING BICYCLES

Three cheers for Aer Lingus, Ireland’s international airliner, for letting you ship your bicycle, not only free of charge, but also without a box or bag. Simply put your pedals on inside out (so they are not sticking out), turn the front wheel around (to make the bike shorter), lower the seat and turn the handlebars sideways for best results. Most foreign carriers, and no American airlines that I know of, are this bike-friendly.

ODDS AND ENDS

We covered nearly 1,500 kilometers (1,000 miles) in three and a half weeks. We consumed absolutely no gasoline (passing many stations that offered fuel at Euro 1.20 per liter – $3.75 per gallon) and I dropped eight pounds.

I rode my hybrid Cannondale, with 35mm tires, and Mark brought his used mountain bike (of ambiguous make, which he bought for $75) equipped with moderately-sized slick tires. Something at least this beefy is recommended. Thin-tired racing bikes will only limit your ability for shortcuts.

For our trip in late May and early June, we planned for all types of weather. And all types showed up. I both bundled up in a synthetic sweater, knit cap and rain slicks, and also endured sweltering heat in shorts and a T-shirt. But no matter what time of year, expect, and don’t fear, rain.

And concerning the borders between Northern Ireland and the rest of the isle, you won’t notice them. There are no checkpoints or crossings in today’s Ireland. You’ll first notice you’ve crossed a line when you’re charged pounds instead of Euros.