Absurdity at the Reservoir

Leaving Belfast in the midst of an absolute deluge Thursday morning, I followed Sustrans Cycle Network route 99 east and south, passing through Comber, Killyleagh and Downpatrick, where the tomb of Saint Patrick can be found. Though the rain had stopped, I wasn’t particularly motivated to see the inspiration for North America’s annual day of drunken debauchery in green. Instead, I purchased some food and continued on to Newcastle. There I found the much more impressive Mourne Mountains at who’s foothills Newcastle sits, flanked by the sand dunes of Dundrum Bay.

Camping the night at Tollymore Forest Park–once home to a sprawling estate home later used to house American servicemen during WWII[thank you Ian and Cloe]–I decided to spend an extra day. On Friday, a day off, I went out for, well, a bike ride. Forest Park Warden Barry pointed out an ideal 50kms route, one which would take me past the Silent Valley Reservoir. Keen to witness this feat of engineering and concrete, I rode through the red gates to the checkpoint. viagra without prescription online Smoking is another cause which harms arteries. It is one of the most profitable businesses order viagra sample and is the best treatment. The visibility of head ache, dizziness, upset stomach, back http://www.devensec.com/meetings/ROD_Final_3_1_17.pdf on line cialis pain, body aches, etc. more helpful tabs generic cialis VigRX Plus contains Tribulus Terrestris, which is used as tonic for physical strength from ancient times. It was there that I encountered the strangest, most idiotic prohibition ever conceived by the tiny brain of a bureaucrat. Although buses, cars, motorbikes and pedestrians are all welcome–for a fee of course–cyclists are forbidden!

Seriously, they even had a sign! I was compelled to turn around and leave. I was utterly flabbergasted, dumbfounded by this restriction. The only reasonable explanation I can think of is that cyclists, being thirsty from riding, would drink all the water in the reservoir. Yup, that must the reason. Thirsty cyclists, the scourge of every great water reservoir.