The ride from Keel to Belmullet begins auspiciously, with an early exit from our Rococo B&B and the wind at our back. There are even some patches of blue sky, something in the Pacific Northwest we call “sucker holes” because only a sucker would believe they portend sunshine.

We ride along Achill Sound and north towards Wild Nephin National Park, a vast and remote stretch of mountains, wilderness and bogs that Irish naturalist Robert Lloyd Praeger called “the loneliest place in this country.” The rain inevitably finds us and by the time we reach the park’s visitor center, we are soaked. An enthusiastic park ranger who probably doesn’t see a lot of visitors gives us a surprisingly interesting tutorial on bogs (really!) and we warm up in the small cafe with vegetable soup, soda bread, hot coffee and a slice of perhaps the most delicious slice of plum cake ever.

Refueled, we forge ahead to Belmullet. The rain comes in waves but the headwind is constant. By the time we arrive at our (thankfully nondescript) hotel, we are wiped out and ready to be warm and dry.

The following morning begins, after a great sleep, with museli, delicious sheep milk yogurt a Half Irish. Today’s ride is our second longest of the trip, so we need the fuel. We share the hotel’s breakfast room with a construction crew from Portugal working on a nearby road project. We hear the word “a chuva” many times, which means rain in Portuguese.

Like yesterday, the ride begins beautifully, with views of Broadhaven Bay and the Nephin Beg mountains in the distance.

We ride to northernmost edge of County Mayo, a dramatic coastline of rocky cliffs, crashing waves and unending views of the North Atlantic. We stop at Cìede Fields, where a local farmer digging on his land discovered remnants of a 6,000 year old Stone Age settlement preserved under the peat bogs. It’s remarkable to think of humans living here 6,000 years ago, raising animals, hunting, fishing and gathering.

The weather changes by the minute. These are photos taken of the same cliff just moments apart.

After riding along the northern County Mayo coast, we turn south back towards Wild Nephin National Park and into the wind and relentless rain. We make a couple of quick stops, to eat a sandwich during a rare break in the rain and to take photos, but the afternoon is spent grinding our way through the rain and, despite the rain gear, eventually we start to get cold.

Allegra, ever the optimist, keeps her sunglasses on.

It’s pouring when we arrive in the village of Newport and we leave puddles on the floor as we check into the little Hotel Newport. The receptionist, like so many in Ireland, couldn’t be friendlier or more welcoming. The long hot shower feels blissful, bringing feeling back into our toes, and hot cups of tea with a bag of salty popcorn makes us feel alive again.