Noodle it up

YOU COULD HEAR the roar of the engine as the tiny red car careened around the corner. There was no deceleration as it came toward us. The driver’s face, like that of an assassin, was steely and indifferent, and seemed to revel in this game of chicken. There was no winning for us on this tiny road. We tucked in tightly as the vehicle blasted past. Inside, at the wheel, was a woman, likely in her 70s. She raised a finger from the steering wheel in an apathetic acknowledgment. I instinctively smiled and nodded back and thought to myself, maybe she’s not so bad after all. I only realized later that I hadn’t seen what finger she had raised.

Drivers in Ireland drive fast. I’m not aware of an Irish car racing pedigree but, damn it, there could easily be one. Speed limits of 80 km/h on tiny winding roads seem to be more a challenge than a limit. Signs in Irish seem to cry out in encouragement. Gomall is written on signs everywhere. Say it out loud: “Go mall!” What does that mean to you? “Faster,” maybe? Or “come on now, quicker, quicker!” possibly? Or “go, go, go!” at the very least? Well, in Irish, it means slow. Or so they say. I don’t believe it.

But, not everyone in Ireland is moving fast. The lead-footed majority occasionally needs to deal with a more inert minority. There are slow moving tourists, slower moving tractors and even slower moving cows, and, of course, us to deal with. Motorists have to find the right moment to pass. The tiny roads that trace the coast of Ireland are rarely straight and

force drivers to make assertive, if not impulsive, manoeuvres to negotiate the slower moving. How do cyclists dissuade such behaviour? With a pool noodle, of course.

You read that right, a pool noodle – a cylindrical piece of buoyant polyethylene foam useful when learning to swim, for floating and for aquatic exercise. It’s also invaluable at keeping aggressive drivers at a distance. Dave rode at the back of our crew and I took to the front. We had both affixed a bright pink pool noodle to the rear of our trailers. They extended out into our lane adding an extra metre to our girth. The pink noodle, to the passing driver, presents an object to manoeuvre around. The fact that it’s a piece of bendable foam doesn’t seem to matter. It’s part of our bike and needs to be avoided. What the pool noodle does is create an imaginary box around our group. The imaginary box introduced a significant layer of doubt to the passing driver and encouraged an added level of care. As a cycling tourist, the $2 pool noodle will be the best investment you will ever make for staying safe on the road. Don’t leave home without it.