Here's our start in Galway's Eyre Square.
Two of the Tour's more important VIPs arrive, Pat McQuaid, the head of the UCI, the governing body for international cycling and Sean Petty, the Chief Operating Officer of USA Cycling. Pat is Darach's eldest brother and was the co-organizer, with Alan Rushton, of this race's predecessor, the Nissan Classic which was last run in 1992. Sean is another American working this Tour as the driver of Guest Car 2. 
Why does the picture you want most come out blurry? Pat McQuaid and Sean Kelly together and I screw it up. The lady in the foreground is Darach and Pat's sister, Ann. 
And what would a day at the Tour of Ireland be without Chief Marshal, Martin O'Reilly, holding court with his pasty white leg glaring so brightly I almost overexposed this one. And on what fine point of cycling security was he educating Pat Dowd, our blackboard driver? 
Way back in Dublin on Monday those who have been reading this blog carefully may remember I mentioned a motorcyclist who had asked me for directions. Well the world gets smaller and smaller. The marshal kissing the lady who I suspect is not his wife is Martin Kelly, the same rider who asked me for directions. "Of all the gin houses in all the world . . ." 
An American flag flying in Ireland? In the town of Cong? Surely there is a story here. 
Here a hint. (Click the Pic for a larger version) 
And if this isn't enough you're not a John Wayne or Maureen O'Hara fan. 
I'm not sure the riders much care or, at least, have the time to care. 
The weather has turned a bit as the field begins the first KOM at Finny. 
And up the Cat 1 climb to the KOM at Tourmakeady. This was a tough one as you can see if you browse over to Graham Watson's site. Three riders, including the KOM jersey, crashed on the descent because there was wet grass in the middle of the very narrow road. Stephen and I took our time going down the mountain, not that we had much of a choice. 
Rain doesn't stop a bike race and, in Ireland, it doesn't stop the fans either, at least not in Louisburgh. 
Kevin decided it was time for a picture of your scribe on his steed. You can imagine what we looked like with young Stephen on the back as well. 
I don't have the luxury of shooting where and when I want so I missed the bridge at Leenane. This very old bridge was washed away in late July or early August in the heavy rains that ended just as the Tour started. The organizers were in a major tizzy since a detour would have meant another 50 kilometers or more. It was not an issue. Within ten days a temporary metal plate bridge had been installed. The race moved across it carefully and safely. This is the KOM on the hill outside of Leenane. 
The master, Graham Watson, at work. This was one of the few times we stopped at the same place. While we and the other photographers, buzzed around looking for the right place, Graham and his driver would meander, sometimes in front of and other times behind, the race looking for, and finding, the perfect shot. If you have not visited his site to see his pictures you've missed the best Tour of Ireland pictures available. Click here to see them. 
This is American, Danny Pate, with a two minute lead on the bunch on the last KOM of the day, about 25 kilometers from the finish. Danny always gives the fans a thrill with his power and competitive spirit. Sadly, this move was made too soon and he and his companion were caught about five km from the finish. 
The finish line was crowded. 
The fans got a thrill and I missed the leaders again but here comes the second group. 
This grueling day of racing was over. For the racers it was the masseur, food and bed. For the Garda, the marshals and the press pilots, it was Saturday, a night for craic (look it up, I had to) in Galway.After a fine dinner at the Menlo Park Hotel, Kevin, Dennis and I joined the rest of the guys at the Front Door Pub in the Keys area of Galway. Martin was holding court as usual and Paul his driver was watching his back so I couldn't even 'accidentally' spill a bit of Guinness on him. Lorraine, our woman photographer, must have had too much to drink because she asked an embarrassing question about why guys couldn't just talk to girls without expecting more than conversation. Kevin and I just looked at each other. Like she really had to ask?
After a bit of talking with everyone, Kevin paid me the highest compliment. He said (and I paraphrase) "You know, Tom, when we heard there was going to be a fu**ing American on the crew we figured we'd test you by giving you the smallest bike, and the largest, least experienced rider. With that, Irish roads and driving on the left we figured you'd screw things up pretty quick. But you just slid in, didn't complain a bit and did your job. We're proud to have you with us." I was proud to be one of them too.
It was time to leave. Dennis was ready and we went back to the Menlo Park where he posed for some pictures with some ladies from the wedding reception going on. Then we went to the bar and drank some Jameson's while he told me how he ended up in Williamsport in 1988 (he was sick of New York City and threw a dart at a wall map) and about his tour in the US Marine Corps in Special Ops. I would not want Dennis as an enemy.
We headed to our rooms about midnight. One more day of racing and one more night of Irish hospitality before the long ride home.
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