Driven round the bend ...

... by the NW200

Last week a world famous motorbike race (well, among bike afficionados anyway) called the North West 200 (NW200) roared into action on roads connecting the nearby towns of Portstewart, Portrush and Coleraine. These are known locally as the “triangle”. If you look at a map, you’ll see why.

The name of the race is not so easily explained, however, not least because the triangle is in the north east corner of Ireland, not the north west. As with everything here, of course, there’s a history behind it.

It all started in 1929 when someone had the idea of holding a road race somewhere in the north west of the north of Ireland (complicated, I know). However, although the venue was changed to the north coast before the first event took place, the organisers at the time - the City of Derry & District Motor Club - kept the original race name.

The reason for the change of venue is a bit of a mystery and no amount of googling helped me. Whether it had anything to do with sectarianism I have no idea. The reason I mention that is because the first race took place only eight years after the partition of Ireland when things were volatile here to say the least. Derry city was (and still is) overwhelmingly Nationalist/Catholic whilst the triangle area was (and still is) overwhelmingly Unionist/Protestant.

As far as I can tell, the City of Derry & District Motor Club no longer exists, now replaced by Coleraine and District Motor Club which still organises the NW200. As a complete aside, I was intrigued to read on their website that fees for “ladies” and anyone under 16 is £10 per year but men have to pay £20. And they say the age of chivalry is dead.

As for the “200” in the title of the race, that apparently is a reference to the 200 miles that the bikes originally covered. Today, the races are just over 50 miles long.

The one thing that hasn’t changed, however, is that it’s still run on public roads which - obviously - have to be closed. When I lived in Portstewart during my teenage years, the race used to go along the road right past our house. Literally. I can still remember the deafening noise of the bikes and the awful smell of burning rubber which used to linger long after they had vanished up the road.

Our dog hated it and used to howl as the bikes roared past. Then again, he was a beagle and not terribly bright. Sad to say he got lost down a rabbit hole many years later, which is where I seem to be heading at the minute as well.

To get back to the race, there was only two events in those days - the first was the practice run on Thursday evening, while the second was the main race on Saturday. These days, there are far more races which take place over three days - Wednesday, Thursday and Saturday.

That’s great if you’re a biker or even just into bikes, but not so great if you’re a local resident given that on Wednesday, the roads are closed from 9am to 3pm and likewise on Thursday, while on Saturday they’re closed from 9am until 7pm. Some local residents feel they have no option but to leave their homes for the whole of the three days because otherwise they’d be locked in or alternatively locked out altogether.

Ballymoney is not exempt from the chaos. Home to the Dunlop dynasty, it’s very much a biker town, particularly since the death of Joey Dunlop in May 2000 at the age of 48 after an accident in Estonia. Considered to be one of the greatest motorbike racers of all times, he won 13 races at the NW200 and 26 at the Isle of Man TT, among others. It’s estimated that 60,000 people from across the world came to Ballymoney to attend his funeral.

To give you an idea of how much he is venerated here, the leisure centre was renamed in his memory shortly after his death, while the local museum has a permanent display of his motorbike memorabilia. To mark the 25 years since his death this year, it has put together an exhibition featuring some of the collection owned by his family which they have loaned to the museum, including the largest-ever display of his motorbikes.

In 2001, the Joey Dunlop Memorial Garden was opened featuring a statue of Joey leaning casually back on his bike. People from across the world regularly come to the town to visit the garden and then go for a drink at the nearby Joey’s Bar which is run by his family and is also full of his memorabilia.

In 2010 the memorial garden was extended to include his brother Robert who died after a crash during a practice race at the NW200 in May 2008. It features a polished granite obelisk and a bronze sculpture of Robert.

Tragically, Robert’s son, William, died in a motorbike crash also during practice, but this time at a race in Dublin in July 2018. A statue in his memory was added to the garden in February 2022.

The dynasty continues in the form of Michael Dunlop (William’s brother) who has just taken part in this year’s NW200, winning three races in all. Let’s hope that he bucks the trend in deaths of family members, although it has to be said that the stats aren’t in his favour. It really is a mega dangerous sport.

That’s not to say that I’m entirely negative about the NW200 specifically or indeed motorbiking in general. Firstly, I used to have my own bike (a Honda 125) and secondly I think that motorbikes are better, on the whole, for the environment than cars. However, there’s a big difference between tootling about on a small bike like I had and driving at 200 mph or thereabouts on public roads at the NW200.

I also accept that the race is incredibly important to the local economy. According to Tourism NI, it’s estimated to have generated almost £10 million last year. It also brought in an additional £25 million through live streaming and TV broadcasts.

But, whatever way you cut it, this race is literally murderous - over the years it has claimed the lives of 19 men, while many others have suffered serious injuries, some of them life-changing. Yet we continue to valorise the participants as heroes and send more of them off each year to their potential deaths.

There’s something wrong somewhere. I know no one forces the competitors to participate but I still wonder whether, ultimately, money has proven to be more important than their lives.