A Winters Trip To Scotland February 2014

I have waited a few days before writing my account of my latest trip to Scotland. I had planned on a fairly lengthy stay of 11 days but I'm afraid I only lasted a total  of five. In truth I had been in two minds about going in the first place. Kevin wasn't going and the weather forecast was pants and I couldn't generate any great enthusiasm for the journey. The saving grace was that I was to finally meet Craig Coid, the gentleman who found my camera on Ben Nevis several years ago and get to spend a few days with Patrick Price with whom I had had such a great time in Torridon last year. I hummed and hawed and prevaricated and eventually decided to give it a go. Once I had made up my mind I started to feel better about going and by the Friday morning I was looking forward to the off.

Friday  and Saturday Feb 21st & 22nd;

Once again I was taking the long way there and I left home at 11.15 to catch the 11.40 train to Dublin. Then the ferry to Holyhead followed by another train to Crewe where I caught the Caledonian Sleeper at 23.40 which saw me arrive at Crianlarich at 07.40 on Saturday morning. I was pretty tired to say the least and fighting the effects of a head cold and my mood wasn't greatly improved when I emerged into an overcast wet and windy morning. I was booked into the Inverardran House B&B which was nearly a kilometers walk away but there was nothing for it but to set off. Thankfully the rain eased and I didn't get too wet on the way. I was let into the entrance hall by the very pleasant proprietor and I simply dropped my big wheelie bag and set off with my rucksack and headed for a climb of Ben More. So off I set along the road in the direction of Benmore farm about two kilometers along where the route starts. I could see up to about 900mtrs before the mountains became enveloped in the scudding clouds. The snowline was down to about the 600mtr contour and from what I could see, everything above that was liberally covered. It was fairly mild as well and the nasty blustery showers didn't promise to turn to snow any time soon. Upon reaching the farm the way ahead is pretty obvious. There is a wide track that wends its way up the steep hillside which I duly followed until it contours around into Benmore Glen on the right and here I left it and just put the head down and took a direct line upwards. Ben More rises steeply and majestically skywards right from the shores of Loch Lubhair and soars unbroken to an impressive height of 1174mtrs. After all the travelling and despite the weather it felt good to be out and exercising my stiff limbs. The wind, especially in the showers was quite strong and I didn't have any illusions as to how strong it would get as I gained height. At around the 500 mtr mark I reached the first of the snow and it didn't take long to decide that it was best avoided for now as it was sugary and soft and made upward progress quite difficult. Soon enough this was no longer an option but thankfully once I reached the 700 mtr mark I was no longer sinking deep into the snow yet crampons were not yet necessary. I climbed on and by the time I got above the 800 mtr contour the snow started to firm up nicely and I was at the point of deciding that axe and crampons were a good idea. Unfortunately it was also at this point that the terrain becomes more of a defined ridge and the speed of the wind increased substantially. Where up to now I was merely being buffeted about suddenly I was literally being blown sideways. I would take a few steps up and then be whipped four or five to my left, up a few more and so on. This was just about ok here where there was a broad simple slope on my left and the snow was still fairly soft but soon the snow would be hard and the terrain even more defined and I reasoned that then things would be untenable so I turned about and headed down.

Looking back to the start of the route

Ben More is up there somewhere

I was disappointed but not surprised as that was the forecast and I hoped to be able to give it another go in a few days. The twin peaks of Ben More and Stob Binnean had often caught my eye on previous trips to the area. In winter they form a dramatic backdrop as you look south from Tyndrum and I have heard them referred to as the "Castor and Pollux" of Scotland and I have to say it is an understandable analogy. It was a bit frustrating to be so near and to be repelled but if it was too easy I guess there wouldn't be the same satisfaction in climbing them. I wasn't long making my way down and I was back at the B&B at 11.30 and relieved to find that my room was ready and I could get out of my sodden clothes. A fine big spacious room allowed me to spread out my stuff and the hot bath was a glorious luxury. I wasn't too worried about how I would spend the remainder of the day as I quickly snuggled up under the duvet to catch up on some sleep and at four pm I watched the excellent rugby match (except for the result) between England and Ireland. Craig had arranged for a friend and regular climbing partner of his to meet me the following day for a climb. Mark had contacted me and we were all set and looking forward to a day out except the weather forecast was appalling with torrential rain and gusts of wind up to 90 mph expected at 900 meters so we had to were forced to cancel. So with climbing out as an option I decided that I would go for a run instead.

Sunday February 23rd;

Its fair to say that the forecast wasn't wrong. During the night the rain was indeed torrential and the wind was loud in the nearby woods. Lightning was another addition to the mix but thankfully by morning things had eased -a little bit. I enjoyed an excellent and rather large cooked breakfast and retired back to my room to relax. I had formulated a plan to get the bus from the village as far as The Bridge of Orchy and run back along the West Highland Way. This was a total distance of 13 miles and I felt it would make a worthy outing for this bad weather day. The bus was to leave at 11.40 so I had over two and a half to kill. I decided to have a snooze for myself and next thing I knew was I woke to see that I had only 30 minutes left to catch the bus. Up and a quick sorting out of clothes etc and I was off jogging into the village. Thankfully the weather had eased further and there were some breaks in the rain and the wind had eased down a bit. I arrived at the bus stop but there was no listing of for a bus at the time I hoped. I hung around for ten minutes after the allotted arrival time but there was no sign of a bus. Not wanting to hang around indefinitely I had a quick change of plan and decided to run to Tyndrum and back a total of twelve miles. I found the access trail that would take me to the Way and set off.

From Kirkton towards Ben More

Ben Challom from Cononish

Beautiful woodland under Beinn Dubhcraigh

Beinn Chuirn

Looking towards Cononish

Ben Oss

Eis Aine in full flow

Cononish river flood

Straight away I was enjoying it immensely. The well made trail wound its way up, down and around , sometimes through the woods, sometimes across open ground and was always varied and interesting. Soon there were great views down to the very impressive River Fillan which was in full spate and flooding the valley below. I took it easy and wanted to enjoy the experience.  The wind and rain only added to the wild feel of the day. After crossing several burns ( most of which were thankfully bridged) the trail dropped down under the railway and then crossed the road and the river Fillan and then through Kirkton farm. Now the  rough trail way left behind and the way ahead was on good surfaced tarmac and farm roads. From here on through Auchtertyre farm and then back across the road for a damp run along the semi flooded riverside trail before once again entering the woods and finally arriving in Tyndrum. I like Tyndrum and have stayed here several times before. The By The Way Hostel is great and I would have stayed there this time but they were full. Anyway as I had arrived and was still feeling not too bad I opted to extend my outing and run out as far as the gold mine at Cononish. A gentle pull of seventy meters through forestry roads and after a couple of kilometers I arrived at the banks of the River Cononish. Here you are once again in wide open spaces and in fine clear weather the views in towards Ben Lui are stunning. Today it was a wild and windswept place and I still loved it even though I was now into the teeth of the wind. Soon enough I arrived at the farm and turned right and headed uphill to the mine and the real attraction here the beautiful waterfall called Eas Aine. The long steady pull soon passed and I found myself at the base on the thunderous cascade. At the top the falls drop in two vertical steps of about forty meters each before then tumbling through the gully for another seventy or eighty meters. Today I was seeing it at its most spectacular. It was a loud rushing fury that warned me to take care with every step as I climbed towards its base. I am reliably informed that in cold winters it freezes and forms one of the best ice climbs in the area. Now that would be a day out to remember. I lingered here a while and ate an energy bar before I turned and trundled easily back down and out alongside the river to rejoin the Way near Dalrigh. From here I retraced my steps back to the B&B. The weather was now improving and as I ran towards Kirkton farm I was treated to taunting beautiful views  towards Ben More. I was pretty tired by the time I arrived back and felt every mile of the seventeen or so I had done. There was a surprising amount of ascent?descent on the Way and when you throw in Cononish as well i reckoned I had had a total in excess of 700 meters done. Still once again a long hot bath went a long way to easing the aching legs. All in all I was well pleased with the day.

Monday February 24th;

I was really looking forward to today as I was finally going to meet with Craig Coid who four years previously had incredibly found a camera I had lost on the "Mantrap" high on the North East Buttress on Ben Nevis. I had lost it on the 18th of February and he had found it at the base of the Orion Face in the middle of April and incredibly, despite falling about 1000 ft and being exposed to the vagaries of a Scottish winter the camera still worked and by posting pictures from the memory card on West Coast Mountain Guides website we managed to get in contact and he returned it to me. We have been in contact since online and it was going to be nice to actually meet the man behind the Facebook profile. We had arranged to meet at 8am in the village and he was going to head to Glencoe and see what the conditions would allow us to do. The weather was once again a bit pish but thankfully the wind was relatively light so we should at least be able to venture onto the mountains. I walked into the village and he duly arrived at the allotted hour. A warm greeting ensued and I climbed into his cavernous four wheel drive and we were off. He was accompanied by his longtime work colleague, friend and now business partner Bill and straight away there was an easy chat and banter on the go. I was immediately at ease and enjoying myself and lets just say that humour fun and stories galore filled the day. One thing that was clear as evidenced by the number of avalanche slides and remnants we could see on the way was that our options for any technical routes were very limited and the boys used their considerable experience and opted for the Schoolhouse Ridge and Sgorr Dhearg.

Craig

Bill

Looking down to Ballachulish

A wee bit wintry on top

Do we go that way??

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Wonderful views on the way down

The bridge is thata way

Schoolhouse Ridge

After eventually finding somewhere that could accommodate Craigs HUGE vehicle ( sorry Craig, well you did say I was small and oh let just say, frequently brought up my penchant for losing cameras :o) ) we set off on our route. reasonable weather and great company ensured that the steep climb up towards the ridge passed easily. At first the ridge is broad but higher up it narrows and has a few steep and exposed steps. These are easily climbed and soon the subsidiary top of Sgorr Bhan 947 mtrs is reached. Here the surface is wind scoured and at times a bit icy but the short descent and steady pull up to Sgorr Dhearg 1022 mtrs is easily done without crampons. Here we overtook a quartet of climbers who were fully suited and booted with ropes, crampons and GoPro camera. We lingered very briefly and retraced our steps back to more sheltered ground above Coire Riabach where we had a well earned lunch. Here as we dropped just below the cloud cover we were treated to lovely views down to Ballachulish and Glencoe. Craigs encyclopedic knowledge of these mountains came once again to the fore as he pointed out where the iconic bridge in Ballachulish North should be as we came under the mist. The rest of the the route flew by and before long we were back at the car and changing into warm dry clothes. A nice coffee and pastry in the excellent cafe in Glencoe and we were on our way back through the incomparable Pass of Glencoe again. We stopped briefly to look into Coire nan Lochan and much evidence was to be seen of many avalanches. It was a good call by Craig and Bill to avoid the area entirely.

The irrepressible Craig Coid 

We drove back to Crianlarich where we enjoyed a nice meal in the well appointed Crianlarich Hotel. Conversation flowed and I learned some more about the two gentlemen. After both having lengthy and successful careers in the Glasgow police force they decided upon retirement to establish an outdoor recreation and adventure company with particular emphasis on working with the youth in the greater Glasgow area. Judging by the apparent full diaries they both had, the company "Simply Epic Adventures" was already a great success. It was a pleasure to meet Bill who had a warmth about him as great as his stature and Craig was a delight whose wit and conversation ensured that I look forward to meeting him more often in the future. So we said our goodbyes and I retired to my room for the evening. I checked the weather forecast for the next four or five days and unfortunately there was no reprieve on the horizon.

Tuesday February 25th;

I awoke to another poor weather day. A strong wind and heavy rain swept across the landscape and my hope of giving Ben More another go were once again dashed. I had absolutely no phone coverage in the area and my only communication with people was via Facebook or email. I was to meet Patrick on Wednesday evening but I wasn't sure where or what time and the emails I had sent hadn't yet received a reply. I also had to leave my B&B this morning and with the weather so poor I was at a loss what to do for the day. I had planned heading to Fort William that evening and perhaps climbing Ben Nevis Wednesday morning but I suppose it may have been the uncertainty or the weather or the fact that I just felt weary but I decided to cut my losses and return home that day. I was booked on the sleeper train out of Inverness on Sunday evening but rather than spend another couple of days tooling about and with such a poor  forecast the very real likelihood of not getting any climbing done in Torridon either, I took the train as far as Oban where I could change my booking and booked myself onto the sleeper train that left that evening from Fort William. I managed to get a text away to Patrick and another email and I returned on the next service to Crianlarich where I got the next service to Fort William. I had a few hours to kill here and as I walked along a rainy highstreet in this dreary place I was relieved that I would soon be leaving it. It was such a relief to finally board the train and I rocked and rolled through the night before alighting in Crewe at 05.30 Wednesday morning. Another train to Holyhead and a three hour ferry trip saw me finally board a train in Dublin at 13.00 and arrive home at 15.30. I had been on trains for a total of 17 hours out of the previous thirty plus a few on a ferry so it was no surprised that I was wrecked. I had also picked up a sinus infection and also, throughout the following 24 hours I felt like I was still on the ferry as I had a slight dose of motion sickness. It was great to relax and now as I write this almost a week later I realise it had taken me a full five days to get back to my usual self. I do have one major regret though and that is that I feel I left Patrick down. After suggesting that we meet in the first place and he being kind enough to agree and be prepared to take a few days out of his busy schedule to climb with me I felt a deep guilt at leaving before we met. I hope he will forgive me and see fit to join me for other adventures in the future. My biggest fear though was that I had lost my love for travel and the mountains. I had been so reticent beforehand and this time I found the journey tiring rather than exciting. Usually I'm also not too bothered by the weather. I will regather my energy and spirits and give myself a few weeks before I think about heading somewhere again. It had been wonderful to meet Craig and our day out was the highlight of the trip. Anyway all is back to normal and I will wait and see what the future brings.

A Winter Climb Of Coumeenmore Gully in The Reeks

Francis Jan

Yours truly

The chances to get any type of climbing in this winter have been few and far between due to work and the frankly awful weather that seems to have been the norm. Storm after storm has swept over the land, the latest just a few days ago that left a swathe of destruction in its wake, so it was a great relief to have something of a weather window available today and we were determined to make the most of it. Frank and I met in Killarney and drove through a nasty shower to the carpark at Lisliebane. We were a little late arriving due to problems with the train and my packing was terrible and I seemed to take an age to get ready but eventually I was sorted and we were off at 11.15. The weather was looking more promising as well and some blue sky was appearing and the wind had died down considerably. Into the Hags Glen we went and as we got in further my eye was drawn towards the broad gully at the back  of Coumeenmore. I had climbed it once before nearly four years ago and enjoyed it immensely.  It is a varied and interesting route that provides a nice grade 1 outing that can provide a stiffer test if the lower sections are in condition.  So wanting to do something other than Carrauntoohil we turned and headed in its direction.

Carrauntoohil looking moody

And this is how you dive from the high board

Route from bottom centre slanting up right

Frank had had his difficulties last week and had had to turn back early but today I was delighted to see that he was in fine form and we made steady progress and soon reached the little black lake in the heart of the Coum. This is a nice atmospheric spot and looked particularly resplendent this day while wearing its winter coat. It was also plainly obvious that conditions would be less than ideal as water ran on all faces and there was not a sliver of ice to be seen. The gully promised to be a wallow up soft snow but at least it would be somewhere different and in lovely surroundings. Rounding the bottom of the north spur of Cnoc an Chuillinn it was also clear that the bottom tricky section of the gully was just a waterfall and we had no option but to bypass this and join the route at a snowfield above.  This we did and as soon as we started up the slope our fears were confirmed, we found ourselves plunging deep into soft snow.  Ah well, there was nothing for it but to go on and we progresses slowly up to the next narrow section. This short section has steep rock walls and at its head was a short open cataract.  It was only a few feet and was banked up below so didn't appear to pose any problems.  Alas as I climbed up to the base of the water the snow kept collapsing and all of a sudden we were faced with  slimy rock with nothing useful to be found for purchase so we had to retreat and break out to the right about ten meters lower down and progress up a narrow snow groove that had a short steep exit to easier ground above. Oh how appearances can be deceptive.  Up we went to the steep bit and lo and behold the snow started to just collapse again and was backed by more slimy rock.  I managed to get up near the exit and gain a stance in a recess that had a rock protruding above it. Now it was a case of pee or get off the potty. I hadn't bargained for  finding myself in a situation like this today but there was nothing for it but to trust in providence and trust the axe in gravelly muck and make an awkward move out onto a not very solid foot placement.  While it wasn't exactly a huge drop the consequences of a fall from here wouldn't have been nice.  Anyway in just a couple of moves I was over and glad to be on easy ground.  I had nothing to use to try and belay Frank but he managed it as well.  Now that I was safe I became aware of my freezing fingers and an awful dose of the hot aches quickly followed.  The next ten or fifteen minutes were a blur of pain and nausea and Frank administering to me. I am fortunate indeed to be blessed with such great climbing partners. Eventually I felt well enough to continue and we resumed our upward progress. Soon I was enjoying myself again and reveling in the fine mountain scenery all about.  Snow conditions improved as well and indeed crampons wouldn't have gone amiss for the final sixty or seventy meters to the steep exit of the route.

Breaking trail

The tricky section with the snow groove right of center

Making it look easy

Now we found ourselves on the ridge and the views were wonderful.  The wind however was howling into our faces and we were being blown and buffeted as we climbed the final icy slopes to Cnoc an Chuillinn's 956 mtr summit.  Here we found a sheltered spot and enjoyed a nice lunch looking directly down into the verdant oasis of the Brida Valley. In their winter raiment The Reeks are especially beautiful and being in such a special place was almost enough to make me forget the hot aches, almost!. We donned our ski masks and headed easily down to the col below Cnoc na Toinne which we duly climbed and then traversed as far as the Devils Ladder where we returned to the valley floor. The trek from the base of the gully back to the car always surprises me with its length and I was pretty tired by the time we reached the car.  We were both very pleased with our day. Frank was back in form and looking forward to our trip later in the year (as am I). It felt great to change into fresh clothing and soon we were warm and whizzing our way back to Killarney.  Another great day out was past but I must see if I can do anything to prevent those pesky hot aches in the future.

The view from our lunch spot

Knockduff

Along the ridge towards Cnoc na Peiste

Towards Carrauntoohil

Its nice to see some colour down below

Cruach Mhor

The Reeks Today

Here are a few pictures from the Hags Glen in The MacGillycuddy Reeks today courtesy of Francis Jan Kluzniac. Wish I could have been there.

Carrauntoohil looking splendid

The East Reeks 

A bit of weather rolling in.

A Climb of GaltyMore Mountain

I have recently realized that I have been very remiss in visiting the range that were my introduction to the great outdoors, The Galtee Mountains. It had been nearly fourteen months since my last visit so I resolver to head there this morning when I finished work and do The Attychraan Horseshoe. This is one of my favorite routes on this compact range and is about fourteen kilometers in length and gives a wild and remote feeling route to Galtymore 919mtrs. I had hoped that there would be a hard frost overnight which would make going on the boggy terrain a bit easier but it was a few degrees above freezing as I set off. I parked at the roadhead at Carrigeen and set off in the predawn along a forestry road for about a kilometer and a half before climbing steeply to the shoulder of Knocknagalty at over five hundred meters. It was well after dawn by now and I was also already enveloped in thick cloud which, given the forecast for rain later in the morning, looked set to be there constantly throughout. Less steep ground now for a while until another stiff pull up the nose of Knockduff reminded me of my lack of hill days and made me aware of the extra weight I was carrying as a training exercise for Scotland. Here there is easier ground until the final pull to the plateau like summit called Dawsons Table. From above seven hundred meters the ground started to freeze and old patches of snow remained. On the summit plateau there was a stiff wind and everywhere had a nice coating of hoar frost. I guess the temperature was a few degrees below freezing and when you added in the wind it was very chilly indeed. The wind was one of those that made the cold penetrate into your sinuses when you walked into it.

The Chilly Summit

 Thankfully once I reached the cairn I turned about and it was now mostly at my back as I headed west towards Slievecushnabinnia. From early doors I had the map and compass out but once I was down from the plateau and I reached the wall that runs along the ridge as far as Lyreacappul I could relax and use this for navigation. I was recently talking to a colleague who got lost while on a hike hereabouts and it is easy to understand why. The ridges and spurs are very wide and relatively featureless and when the mist is really thick like it was today visibility can be as little as thirty meters. It was amazing how near I got to sheep before I could see them. Still it was nice to have the compass out it was a good training exercise. Anyway I walked above the ghostly chasm of the coum of Lough Curra and followed the wall as far as Carrignabinnia. Normally I would continue as far as Lyracappul for the outstanding views that are afforded but today there wasn't much point and besides the promised rain had long since arrived and was being delivered with force be the wind. So once again the compass was employed to navigate the slopes of Bengower and eventually down to my car. Despite not having any views once I was above five hundred meters I enjoyed my morning immensely. The Galtees may lack the rugged cliffs and narrow ridges of the mountains further to the west but they have a wild and remote feel to them on a day such as this. It won't be too long before I will make a return visit.

Back down below the mist

A Very Wintery Carrauntoohil

Yesterday I went back once again to Kerry for a day out with Frank. After a stellar weather day on Saturday it was something of a disappointment to be awoken by heavy rain. Driving to the train station it was only reading four degrees so it promised to be decidedly chilly on top and it didn't disappoint. Arriving in Killarney it was a relief to see that the rain had stopped (briefly) and after our usual coffees we decided to climb Carrauntoohil.
Arriving in Lisliebane we could see that there was snow lying to about six hundred meter. There had been precious little snow this winter and I was a bit shocked to realize that this would be my first time on snow since I was on the Pyrenees in June. Rain had started again by the time we set off so we were fully suited up from the start. As usual every day with Frank is a pleasure and soon the chat was flowing as we made our way easily into the "Hags Glen". Down here there was very little breeze and we were a tad warm in all the gear. Eventually we reached the snow line on the first level but there was no need for crampons or anything like that as everywhere was unfrozen and running with water. Still it was nice to once again be in a snowy landscape and the mountain scenery hereabouts is great. By the time we reached the third level there was a decent covering and the little lake was starting to freeze over. The long slog up "Brother O'Sheas Gully" is never nice but it eventually passed and when finally we emerged onto the ridge we were treated to the full blast of a strong wind which whipped horizontal spindrift like needles straight into our faces. We weren't complaining about being over dressed now. The 400 feet to the summit was a stinging buffeting freezing onslaught to the senses and I loved it. Now proper ice was starting to coat the rocks and occasional white out patches were experienced.

What . We have to go up there??

A wintery Carrauntoohil

Entering the third level Coumeenaughter

There was no question of us stopping for a bite to eat on the summit and we turned immediately down and headed for the "Heavenly Gates". On this side of the mountain there was a more comprehensive covering and the trail was hard to follow but I was just able to make out steps in the snow as I peered through the biting spindrift. Goggles would have been useful. One nice thing was that the snow made for more cushioned going and we made easy progress, that is until we lost the trail and found ourselves facing down towards steeper ground than we should have expected. We reasoned that we had gone too far to the left and that a rising traverse to our right should see us reach the broader slopes by the "Devils Ladder". We climbed up for a while but the easier ground wasn't materialising so I checked our altitude and I saw we were up at over 850 meters so were well above the level of where we should be. Out came the GPS and map and we realised that we were in fact on a rising traverse of Caher,oh dear. Nothing for it but to take a bearing due east and soon we were once again back on track, literally. The descent was uneventful thereafter, except for the fact that when we eventually did stop in a nice sheltered spot lower down to enjoy a bit to eat we were immediately treated to a resurgent wind in our faces and sleety snow. Unsurprisingly by the time I was down I was soaked through and through and therefore feeling the cold. I fear a new waterproof is called for. Still it was great to get a proper blast of the winter mountain experience and it was proof once again that familiarity is no guarantee of successful navigation in the mountains. I'm looking forward to further challenges ahead.

Always willing to pose for that photae

Mangerton Mountain via The Horses Glen

I have been a little remiss in visiting the mountains of late so today I took the opportunity of a break in the atrocious weather we have been having and headed west to Kerry for a hike. I had gone for a short run last evening and I was surprisingly tired as I set off. It was a pleasant weather day with little or no wind and little cloud in the sky. As I neared the start of the route I got a great view of a young stag on the edge of the woods. The mountain was largely clear of cloud except for the very top which had a thin layer of mist clinging to it. Unsurprisingly there was a lot of water on the trail and the heathery boggy trackless ground towards Lough Garagarry was the usual trudge but all the effort was rewarded when you round the shoulder of the stunning view into the beautiful Horses Glen. I was quite tired and found that my legs felt really tired and leaden. Some big hill days are required if I am to regain sufficient fitness for a trip to Scotland in February. Anyway I persevered and eventually the steep slope to the summit of Mangerton North eventually passed. The impressive cliffs of the north face of the giant coum that surrounds Lough Erhogh are always a treat to look across at and today was no different. I continued on across the ridge to the main bulk of Mangerton itself and didn't stop until I was down and passed the Devils Punchbowl where a most welcome lunch was enjoyed as I enjoyed the view towards the Black Valley and a misty Reeks. Back down at the car I was tired but pleased that the outing had been done in 3 hours 45 mins. I must up the ante for the next one, perhaps a six or seven hour day.

Rediscovering The Fun

A couple of days ago I set off once again on the early train for Midleton to go for a run in the Curragh Woods, this time with James Moore. After all the negativity and stress of the previous week it was great to simply just go for a simple no pressure run with a pal and relax. I must confess to having some doubts about going for any run at all but the legs were feeling quite good after the marathon so I decided to give it a go. James looked after me very well and set a nice gentle pace that ensured that we were able to have a nice chat and pretty soon I was leaving any doubts behind and simple enjoying running along in the dense foggy woods that were full of atmosphere and beauty. I felt that I could have been running anywhere and at times I was reminded of the beech and chestnut forest of the Pyrenees Orientalis. We twisted and turned and went up and down and it was great. The hour that we spent running simply flew by. I didn't care if we had covered two miles or ten, it didn't matter, it was simply fun. I was buzzing after it and my high lasted well after we parted and I headed home. I felt that I had re-learned a lesson that I had forgotten and realized that I should run for the fun of it and not place myself under too much pressure. That's not to say I should sit back and take it easy, far from it, but I should stick to what I enjoy and push myself when it feels right to do so. Anyway enough navel gazing, bottom line is that I had a great time and I found myself looking forward to the next time so today I went with Ruby for a five mile run on Bweeng Mountain and despite the wind and rain it was great to be out and I felt like mentally a weight had been removed. Now I'm looking forward to whatever the next outing brings.

Clonakilty Waterfront Marathon.

Well that's another marathon under my belt but I confess to not really feeling any sense of achievement or satisfaction this time. The main emotion is disappointment with my performance and the sense that perhaps marathons are not for me. This is my fourth one and the last six miles of each of them has been an experience of distress to varying degrees which is not perhaps actually good for either the body or soul.

Saturday December 7th;

I entered this marathon as a way of maintaining  my focus and giving me something to aim for late into the winter. I hadn't realized that it would be such a big event and I was surprised to find that over two thousand enter the three events ( full, half and 10K). The idea of a run by the sea promised to be interesting at this time of year. The sixty euro entrance fee also was a bit of a shock. Anyway this time I was determined to try and get in some long runs before the event and in the month before I managed two 18 mile + and two 15 mile+ runs and these went well. I had stood on the scales a few weeks before for the first time in perhaps six months and I was horrified to find I had put on over half a stone in weight and I decided to go on a diet to try and shed a few pounds. I gave it a good go for the first week and was again horrified at the end of it to find that instead of losing a pound or two I had put one on. I confess to feeling a sense of depression and hopelessness and the diet went out the window. I continued to train but mentally I was in a bad place and I wasn't looking forward to the race, in fact, better to say I was dreading the whole thing. Anyway the day arrived and I was going to give it my best shot.

So I got up at five thirty and after a coffee and biscuit I set off. Now that I was actually in motion my mood lightened. The morning was pleasant but there was a fair bit of fog en route so full concentration was required as I traveled unfamiliar roads. When I crossed the Lee near Coachford there followed a twisty tree lined road that climbed for a fair while and all I could think was that it would make a great cycle some day, what is wrong with me?. Anyway as I got further there was an almost imperceptible lightening in the sky yet it was still quite dark as I entered Clonakilty. I'm not familiar with the town but it was just a case of following the traffic in order to find the registration place.  There was a bit crowd about and a big queue for the registration. Things were a bit chaotic and they ran out of pins to clip on the number and I had to take a large top (too big for me) so I was a bit disappointed with that. There was no other freebies on offer which I thought was quite mean considering the hefty entrance fee. Anyway I had my number and since it was still an hour to the off I returned to my car and listened to some "tuneage" until it was time to walk the mile or so to the start line. I was now actually feeling quite good and since there was no turning back I was looking forward to the challenge ahead. I arrived at the start ten minutes before the off and there was a big crowd assembled in what was a large square waste area behind a modern development on the outskirts of town. There wasn't the usual DJ whipping the crowd to a frenzy yet despite this there was a definite sense of excitement and anticipation in the air. The half marathon started elsewhere and the full marathon was due off at 09.10. The allotted time duly arrived and we were off.

What a fabulous morning for a run.

Lovely start...these pictures aren't mine I hasten to add.

By Long Strand

Very quickly we left the buildings behind and immediately it was clear why the title of Waterfront Marathon was used as were ran along a harbor-side road towards the rising sun, it was glorious. I was determined to try and listen to my body as I went and I soon settled into a comfortable rhythm, whether that was going at eight or nine minute mile pace I didn't care as long as I was running comfortably within myself. As it happens it was at about 8 minute 20 per mile and I was happy to settle for that. The route soon left the water behind and we ran along lovely rural country lanes liberally sprinkled with the large new build homes that were a feature of the "Celtic Tiger" and  many farmsteads that worked the excellent quality land in the area. One delight was the approach to the little village of Milltown which as well as being slightly downhill (that always helps) there was a lovely stream cutting through a shady deciduous woody glen that abounded with mossy dry-stone walls and ferns, it was magical. Next we ran by the impressive "Castlefreke" ruins and then before we knew it we were near the sea once again. Now though we came to the first real hill of the day which was a stiff climb for about 500 meters in length. I managed this easily and I was feeling quite good, my confidence was improving a bit. From  the top there was a great view onto Roscarbery Bay and we ran down and then alongside the lovely and aptly named "Long Strand" before once again reaching the sea at the delightfully named "Dirk Bay". Here we left the sea behind and the next six miles were inland.

 I knew that there was a substantial climb in the offing and while I wasn't looking forward to it I was hopeful that the downhill section that followed would  allow me to recover somewhat and see me towards the 20 mile mark. Once I passed the half marathon distance I knew that I was now on the homeward side and that each mile done made the finish that bit more attainable. The hill when it arrived was not actually that bad. It rose very gradually to a crest before turning right into the village of Ardfield which I hoped was the top but alas it continued on before finally reaching the top at the 17 mile mark. I must confess to by now feeling the effects of the run and I was looking forward to hopefully recovering a bit on the downhill section. Alas it was not to be for as soon as I started down the slope I got a viscous belly ache and I had to find the first exit from the road and urgently go to the toilet. After this I'm afraid things just got worse. A certain amount of queasiness remained and the legs just got worse and worse. I struggled on to the twenty mile mark and even at this stage I was still after maintaining an 8 minute 20 second pace. From here on I was reduced to occasionally walking and even this was getting increasingly painful. I still was experiencing stomach cramps and was often tempted to try and find another toilet spot but I reckoned that if I stopped I wouldn't get going again. My hoped for time of 3 hours 45 mins was not now possible and I just hoped break the four hour barrier. Sweets and Cola were on offer at the frequent water stations but they only made me feel ill so I passed them up on the last couple. My mood wasn't helped by the banal, so called inspirational writings, written large on the mile markers but probably that was due more to my suffering than anything else, I'm sure the intention was good. Eventually the 25 mile marker passed and I knew that one way or the other I would get to the end but my word I was feeling rubbish. About this point I was passed by the pacemakers for the four hour mark and I tried my best to keep up with them yet try as I might they slowly but surely pulled a couple of hundred meters ahead. Its truly amazing how long the few hundred meters after the 26 mile mark can be and I was never more relieved to finally cross the finish line.

How I managed a smile I don't know...perhaps twas my goodies

 I was in truth too distressed to give a monkeys about the time and more intent on finding somewhere to go to the toilet again. I was totally spent and despite the benign weather I was starting to feel the cold. The foil blanket was welcome and necessary and I hugged it around me. I was given a banana and a bottle of water after the line but I could really have used some soup or something hot but I couldn't see any to be had. After my toilet stop there was nothing for it but to make my way back to the car. The walk seemed endless and I was really cold and weary by the time I got there. I wasted no time in changing into fresh warm clothes and after a while I started to feel a bit better. There were showers available in the hotel but I didn't fancy the four hundred meter walk to reach it so I decided to head home immediately where a hot bath awaited but first I needed something to eat. I stopped at a service station on the edge of town and, oh dear, I'm afraid my first attempt at walking to the shop wes painful and faltering, but I got there and a large roll and good coffee gave some fuel to the starved engine. A weary drive home followed and the bath was indeed welcome but the weariness will linger for a while yet.

Overall it was a well run event on a lovely scenic course. The stewarding was first class and there were plenty of water stations all along the route. An inspired idea was to have your first name printed in bold letters across the number bib and it was great to hear people offering personalized encouragement along the way. It was a pity not to be able to get the correct size top and registration was a bit chaotic. There was plenty of stuff for sale at check in but considering the hefty entry fee a goody bag with even a few bars inside would have been welcome as would some hot food at the finish. Perhaps posting the registration pack would be a better idea and make it less of a chore getting to the starting line. I will have to reevaluate my goals for the future. Right now I'm not sure if marathons are for me but perhaps that decision is best left for now.

There's Nothing Like Variety

This weekend I had a lovely varied time. On Saturday I went for a couple (yes a couple) of runs with the force of nature that is Kevin and on Sunday I had a lovely hike on the Reeks with Frank.


Saturday November 23rd;

I took the train to Midleton to meet Kevin on a stunning clear frosty morning. It meant an early start but it was so worth it to arrive at the start of the cliff path in the lovely village of Ballycotton with brilliant sunshine and frost still coating the landscape. I had walked this trail decades ago but I had long since forgotten what it was like so it was like discovering it anew. We quickly got ready and the chill air meant we didn't delay before the off. The plan was to run the clifftop trail which lasts for almost four kilometers and return via the road to the village which a total of 10 kilometers. Boy oh boy it was a treat. A nice firm narrow track wound its way in a lovely undulating meander along the clifftops. On our right fertile farmland rolled away inland and on our left the blue ocean was a joy to behold. A little fishing boat chugging along was the only thing to break  the calm carpet of unending blue. The short uphill sections were followed by lovely downhill stretches so the going was always interesting and varied. All too soon the trail came to an end and we had to turn onto the tarmac. Still the return had its compensations and we could see the Knockmealdowns and Comeragh mountains in the distance and of course the sea was never out of sight for too long. We clipped along at a good pace (for me) and we soon entered the village. I tried to up the pace for the final kilometer but I hadn't bargained for the stiff little pull back up to the car and I was reduced to my usual shuffle to the finish, unlike Kevin who took off in a rapid sprint and sustained it until the car. I was tired and delighted all at once. It had been a real joy to experience such a different outing and of course the banter was great.

Ideal Running Trail

Ballycotton Lighthouse

Stellar Weather

Trails End

Anyway us being us and the day being so young Kevin proffered the opportunity to visit Killagh Woods and I agreed. I had been here once before and it is a beautiful compact deciduous wood that has a variety of trails that never climb too steeply. There is a lovely little river that runs through the middle of it and this just adds to the already great feel of the place. I must confess to feeling the first run in the legs a bit but we set a steady (relaxed, slow...) pace and just enjoyed ourselves. Here we were mostly in the shade with the occasional bursts of sunshine breaking through. The ground was completely carpeted with fallen leaves and our progress was accompanied by the crunch and rustle as we ran. I was fast running out of puff and we decided to call a halt after six kilometers. The final kilometer back to the car was along a sunken path about four feet wide that was so like something straight from "Lord of the Rings"that I half expected to see Frodo coming towards me. I was delighted with our morning. Both runs had been over entirely different terrain and both were the finest of their type. I look forward to revisiting both spots again in the not too distant future.

Sunday November 24th;

Easy ridge to the summit

When I arose this morning any hopes I harbored of another sunny frosty day were quickly dispelled as I looked out on a gloomy overcast sky. Still it was dry, which is always a plus and I harbored hopes that there might even be a temperature inversion in the offing. I set off back to Killarney on the train to meet with Frank and I must confess to having felt quite weary. I'm not sure if it was the effects of yesterday or just a culmination a generally fairly busy time but I was more ready to hit the bed than the slopes by the time I reached Killarney. Still it is always a pleasure to hook up with Frank and he promised to take it easy on me. We settled on climbing Maolan Bui (The Bone) on the Reeks. It had been quite a while since we had gone up the long spur to the ridge on the East Reeks and it promised to just fit the bill, being neither too strenuous or severe. It was also heartening to see that the weather was much brighter in the area than at home and this made for a welcome change. So after our usual coffees we hastened to Lisliebane and we were quickly on our way. As I suspected or at least hoped, once I was out and actually moving I started to liven up and soon any lethargy was forgotten. The "Hags Glen" was holding a fair bit of cloud but there were breaks and occasionally the tops were to be seen. It was something of a surprise to see that even up at 3000 ft there wasn't any sign of frost. We took it nice and leisurely and enjoyed the experience of our majestic surroundings. Eventually we reached the summit and now we were treated to stunning views down to the eastern side. We had a bite to eat in a windless sunny summit and soaked up the views. After our respite we headed off along the easy ground over Cnoc an Chuillinn, then down and up to Cnoc na Toinne. Here we opted to go down the "Zig Zags" as I was ancious to see for myself the state of this trail. It was quite the shock to see the erosion that has already occurred on this track that a mere four years ago was only a slight barely visible line down the side of the mountain.

Stunning views

Terrible erosion in a short time.

Sometimes I despair at the stupidity of the mountaineering bodies in this place. When a proposal five years ago suggested putting a safe "Tourist Track" up the Devils Ladder there was much wailing and gnashing of teeth by local mountaineering clubs and even the mountain rescue who all came down heavily against the idea. Local guiding groups then started using the Zig Zags and this has led to this latest damage. Eventually there will be a path made but I fear not before irreparable damage has been done. Anyway we were now moving rapidly and I was back in town in good time to get the early train. It had been another lovely day and as I traveled home I felt fortunate indeed to have been able to experience and enjoy such a great variety of the best this land has to offer.