This is the route map

Dublin - Navan - Carrickmacross - Newry - Belfast - Lurgan - Dungannon - Cookstown - Omagh - Irvinestown - Ballyshannon - Sligo - Ballina - Tobercurry - Carrick-on-Shannon - Longford - Mullingar - Leixlip - Swords.

Loads of time to brush up on my Nornie accent! 

Dublin to Navan will be a bit mundane. Time to catch up with old buddies and chat.

Navan to Carrickmacross. a bit rolly! Familiar ground for me.

Carrick to Newry. Through the hills of South Armagh. Hope they have replaced the road signs up there!

Newry to Belfast. The Star of the County Down.

Belfast City Hall where i dodged around as a kid, mitching school.

Belfast to Lurgan. Unknown to be because of the M1 motorway. Could be easy and flat or a hilly start.

Lurgan to Dungannon. Skirting the mighty Lough Neagh.

Dungannon to Cookstown. Roly but overall downhill.

Cookstown to Omagh. Gently rising and gently falling to overnight and a prayer in Omagh.

Omagh to Irvinestown. Heading for the Lakelands.

. Around the beautiful Lough Erne. An easy day through Beleek and into the 'land of the free text' to beautiful Ballyshannon and The Wild Atlantic Way.

Ballyshannon to Sligo. First leg of our longest day.

Sligo to Ballina. I remember this most beautiful route from the Wild Atlantic Way last year. Looking forward to it and praying for an onshore or a brisk northerly.

Ballina to Tobercurry. A couple of climbs on this one but the legs should be well hardened by this time.

Tobercurry to Carrick-on-Shannon. Just in time for the hen parties and stag parties. Just was long as they dont keep me up all night.

Carrick-on-Shannon to Longford. Heading for home territory now.

Longford to Mullingar. Respect to the Mighty Joe Dolan. Doff our caps!

Mullingar to Leixlip. Our last day. Should be a great run-in.

Leixlip to Swords. Downhill all the way back to the metropolis.

6 years - 80days - approx 8000kms - 50 billion calories - 150 schools and colleges - we took the message to 150,000  students - 300,000 parents - 32 counties - 200 towns and cities

SHOULDER TO SHOULDER WE CAN BREAK THE CYCLE OF SUICIDE ON OUR ISLAND.

ITS OK NOT TO FEEL OK AND ITS OK TO ASK FOR HELP. 

WE LOST ONE ON THE WAY. BRENAWN ONE OF OUR MOTORBIKE MARSHALS.

A moving piece written by his friend 

My friend, Brenawn O’Connell, may you Rest in Peace.

Over the last 36 hours, each of the thousand times that I think of Brenawn, I see piercing blue eyes, the widest of wide smiles and a body bedecked in biker kit. 

For all the time I have known Brenawn, bikes have featured large in our relationship – motor bikes for him and road bikes for me. We first met twelve years ago when he applied for a job with my company. He was in the saddle en-route to the North when he got the call for interview; he changed his plans, switched direction and arrived into our reception in leathers. He got the job.

We quickly formed a close bond and a deep friendship. Born of a generation who didn’t seek or give hugs, he didn’t hold it against me that I often do. He’d give a nod to conformity (sometimes) and accepted its merits (sometimes), but he himself was a maverick who preferred to plough his own furrow. Yet it was the space in our differences that joined us together. We shared birthdays, breakfasts, walks, hikes and plans. We told stories, listed dreams, asked questions and shared lessons so far learned.

He simply had a special way about him. This worked so well with our clients. Between picking up our US guests from Shannon Airport and delivering them to our Headquarters in Kerry, he had them captivated every time. He was a born historian, an avid story-teller and a natural teacher. He could incorporate the most banal facts into the most fantastical story. He used to take pride in detailing to me the countless thank you cards and gifts he received from these clients; I on the other hand received none!

We had our first ever row during Cycle Against Suicide 2013. In the last twelve months, that difference only served to tighten the fabric of our friendship, re-affirm the binds and cement our commitment to the Cycle Against Suicide family. 

Family was very much on Brenawn’s mind. Brenawn is married to Kerry, with three grown up children, Sadhbh, Tim and Kerry Og. Brenawn and Kerry are everyone’s role model of the perfect couple – with the perfect relationship. While Brenawn wasn’t a seeker or giver of hugs, he always demonstrated affection and always inspired me with his absolute love and affection of Kerry and the children. Tim and Kerry Og both live in the States and Brenawn had only just returned from holidaying with them. He had timed his return to tie in with the Cycle when it hit Tralee. 

Brenawn was with us from Tralee to Newcastle West; from Newcastle West to Limerick; from Limerick to Ennis; from Ennis to Galway; from Galway to Tuam; from Tuam to Castlebar; from Castelbar to Enniscrone, and from Enniscrone to Sligo; and from Sligo to Donegal. These legs were some of the toughest of the journey. In Donegal, he found a familiar sanctuary – a bed in his brother Eoghan’s home.

Brenawn was one of the team members who are critical to our safety. Although we speak to so many and ask them to mind each other and take care of each other, Brenawn and the other motor cycle marshals quietly took care of us all. He watched us like precious cargo, shepherded us and piloted us. It seemed that in keeping us safe, he was keeping so many others safe as well.

And so it was yesterday morning, Brenawn led us out of Donegal. I was trailing at the back and was the last cyclist to ride through Barnesmore Gap. It was Day Ten of Cycle Against Suicide 2014 and it was the first day in the journey that I was finally able to live in the moment. The rain had appeared again, the mountains streams prattled and in that one instant all seemed so right with the world. Brenawn rode out in front, piloting the peloton forward; the entire body of Cycle Against Suicide lay between us. Him first; me last – the space in our difference joining us still.
This was to be an historical day, we would cross into Northern Ireland for the first time and it was Brenawn who was taking us there. We never arrived. After a tragic collision, at 11.30 on Wednesday, May 7th 2014, Brenawn lost his life. 

Kerry lost her husband. Sadhbh, Tim and Kerry Og lost their loving Dad. Eoghan, Diarmuid, Ciaran, Fionnuala and Orfhlaith have lost a brother. Cycle Against Suicide lost a guardian. I lost a dear friend.

All his stories came flooding back to me last night in my dreams. One of those stories revolved around a time when Brenawn and Kerry ran a successful business in the US installing Cable TV. It was a two “man” job; Brenawn would climb the ladder, drill the hole, Kerry would feed the cable to Brenawn and he would thread it through. It worked well until Brenawn fell off a ladder and suddenly a job for two had to become a job for one. Brenawn joked that he was such a great teacher that Kerry was able, with his guidance, to do the two “man” job thereafter on her own. We need to bring this Cycle home, with his teachings and guidance, but without his presence. 

This is what I think about. Kerry, Sadhbh, Tim and Kerry Og are what I think about. Then I think about Brenawn; he watched over us like precious cargo, but now it is our turn to take care of his precious cargo. 

Today, none of us feel ok. And that’s ok. We have to keep reminding ourselves of this. We left the great people of Donegal, who became our absolute refuge in that ruthless storm. We left by bus for Moville and for the school students that awaited us there. We dismounted the bus and walked shoulder to shoulder sombrely into the hall. 

We were not feeling ok. They told us that this was absolutely ok. 

That was the moment; the most poignant of moments. We were hearing our message back; the student had become the teacher and the teacher the student. The comfort we drew from our own message “it’s ok not to feel ok, and it is absolutely ok to ask for help” made the only bit of sense in a nonsensical time.

Kerry and her children want the remaining days of Cycle Against Suicide to proceed. Knowing Brenawn, it is fitting that it should. He was a man who seized life, cherished life and protected life. He coloured life, he lived life and he wanted to save life.

45 minutes before our world fell apart; he declared he was exactly where he wanted to be. I see him now as I write in a quiet corner of the Everglades Hotel in Derry; no doubt resplendent in his leathers, those blue eyes piercingly doing their thing and that wide white smile as white as ever. A maverick, a great and gentle man, a friend and a guardian. 

My dear friend, Brenawn O’Connell, may you Rest in Peace.