Síle O'Malley

I've spent the last 14 years doing something most people think is unusual: I ride my bike very slowly on purpose. Not because I'm lazy, but because I'm testing routes for people who deserve better options than "just go on the main road." That's how I ended up becoming obsessed with accessible cycling.

It started in Cork. I was working with the Irish Heart Foundation, running health programmes for older adults. One day, a woman in her 70s mentioned she used to cycle everywhere — then she just… stopped. When I asked why, she said the routes near her weren't safe or interesting. That conversation stuck with me. I realised there were thousands of people like her: experienced cyclists, perfectly capable, but stuck at home because nobody had bothered to map routes that actually worked for them.

After completing my postgraduate diploma in Sustainable Transport at Trinity College Dublin in 2011, I started doing something radical: I got on my bike and rode. For months. Testing gradients, noting rest stops, checking surface conditions, talking to local café owners. Every route I mapped, I rode at least three times — in different seasons, different weather, different times of day.

Over the next decade, I've documented routes from Cork to Donegal. I've consulted with bike-friendly hotels and restaurants. I've listened to feedback from hundreds of older cyclists about what actually matters: surface quality, gradient, scenery, water fountains, places to stop without feeling rushed. I've learned that "accessible" doesn't mean boring — it means thoughtful.

At onlinenewskansascity Ltd, I focus on what I do best: research, field testing, and creating content that gives older cyclists real confidence to explore routes like the Achill Island Atlantic Drive. Because cycling isn't just for the young and ambitious. It's for anyone who wants to see their country from a bike seat.