Wednesday, December 03, 2003
Last night I rode my bike through the Phoenix Park, on my way to Blanchardstown.
On the way up, at about 5pm, the light was fading, and a layer of mist was gathering on the grass. With the moon rising behind me, it was a lovely scene.
On the way back, at around 6:30, it was dark and very foggy. On the bike track along Chesterfield Rd, you couldn’t see the tarmac beneath your wheels, and the fog prevented you seeing the way ahead. The lights from cars coming the other way made things worse, creating a bright white duvet to ride into.
With my front light illuminating nothing but the fog, I just kept the bike straight and picked my way along. It was great. Across the road I could just make out the ghostly lights of cyclists on the other track. Even the tearoom close to the Parkgate St entrance was fogbound and scarcely visible.
As soon as I was out of the Park, the fog disappeared, and you’d never have known there was such adventure to be had.