The Gazette 1987
GAZETTE
SEPTEMBER 1987
The Mara-Cycle Fundraising for The Solicitors' Benevolent Association
north County Dublin case of Rogan v. Hogan. Apparently, Mr. Hogan, while driving his car in the early hours of the mo r n i ng, had demolished Mr. Rogan's shed ad- joining the main Skerries Road. Mr. Hogan, in his evidence, tried to suggest that the shed appeared to have moved out in front of him. This was a very novel and radical theory at the time, as moving statues were not yet in vogue. Joe McGowan, in cross-examination, enquired of Mr. Hogan as to the speed his car was travelling at the time of impact. Mr. Hogan replied: "Between 25 and 30, Sir". Mr. Rogan stood up at the back of the Court and interjected: " If so, my shed was doing 6 0 " ! Rogan trium- phed and McGowan flourished. A postscript to that forensic tale is that Mr. Hogan's solicitor was the then youthful and enthusiastic Dublin-based Denis McDowell,
Brendan Walsh, colleague, Dublin raconteur and philosopher, moun- tain climber and cyclist, agreed to raise money for the Solicitors' Benevolent Association, if I sat on a bicycle to Belfast and back. Bren- dan had concluded that people's charitable instincts would more likely be aroused by the thought of my trying to cycle that distance and by the likelihood of my expir- ing in the process. In fact, the first sum committed by Diarmuid Barry of Killybegs, was conditional upon the production of an affidavit from the cycle manufacturers, Peugeot, averring that their bicycles were strong enough to carry my lithe frame that distance. Diarmuid Barry's cynical query was the first of many, all of which strengthen- ed my resolve to successfully com- plete the Mara-Cycle. I learned, after many preparatory training weeks pounding the by- roads of Wicklow under the un- compromising supervision of Bren- dan Walsh that my odyssey would be made easier by putting out of mind how far I had to go. This serv- ed me well on my journey north- wards until some distance outside Belfast, when stewards announced that there were ten miles to go. From then on, every mile was announced with tiring regularity: "Nine miles to go, eight miles to go . . . " , the dragging miles were ultimately only made shorter by the encouraging announcement of one wag: " A pint for less than a pound in Belfast". Included among the 3,200-odd cyclists who left Dublin at 8 a.m. on Saturday, June 27, 1987 were some 1,000 Northerners who had cycled down the previous day. They were readily recognisable as they were the ones who obeyed the traffic lights and who skidded on the oil (sponsored by CIE, et al?) as the 'peleton' entered West- moreland Street. North to Balbriggan the route was littered with cyclists fixing
punctures. As I entered the quiet backwater(?) of Balbriggan, I wondered whether this was still the bailiwick where the McGowan Writ ran?. I thought of the late Gerry McGowan, who was known as 'the Mayor of Balbriggan', and of Joe McGowan and the oft-recalled
by Frank O'Donne ll Solicitor (and Cyclist)
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