Climbing in the Isle of Skye 2012

Climbing in the Isle of Skye 2012

Day 1, Monday June 18^th;

After a long spring I felt the need to satisfy my wanderlust and decided to head to the Isle of Skye for a week of hiking and climbing. So, my bag packed, I boarded the 10.50 train out of Mallow and set off on the long trip for Skye. The trip is tiring. A long combination of train and ferry followed by more trains, eventually saw me board a bus on to the island at 11.30 Tuesday. Two more buses saw me north of Uig on the Trotternish peninsula and finally commencing my route at 14.00.

South of the Quiraing

Day 2, Tuesday June 19^th;

Looking back to the start with Harris and Lewis beyond

  

My plan was to do the Trotternish Ridge, on the northern part of the island, over the first couple of days. This is one of the most unique landscapes in Europe. It resembles a place where there was a slippage of one tectonic plate over another.  After so many hours traveling, my impatience finally got the better of me and I alighted from the bus at Linicro. Wow, what a joy it was to stretch the legs. I was in great spirits as I set out across the boggy ground for my first top Suidh a Mhinn. The weather was wonderful, warm, windless and blue skies. The ground underfoot was nice and solid and dry after the recent dry spell that the Highlands had enjoyed. Yet again my bag was bloody heavy. I was carrying everything I needed for the whole trip including my tent, food and clothes for the week. The initial pull to the first summit was fairly steep, and when combined with the weight of the bag, I was left in no doubt now tough the next couple of days were going to be. The wonderful vista across the blue sea to the mountainous landscape of Harris and Lewis in the Outer Hebrides, provided a good excuse to stop, rest, and enjoy the view. The entire ridge is over 30 kilometres long and involves well in excess of 2000 metres of climbing. My late start meant I would not be able to divide the outing equally, so I would have a long day tomorrow. Still I would take it as it came and enjoy the experience.

The Quaraing

The first thing I noticed was just how dry the landscape was. Where normally springs and streams would be plentiful, it was now bone dry. It was clear that I would have to take care to ensure that I had sufficient water at all times. This only added to the load, as I had to keep nearly two litres on me just in case. From my first top a long gentle decent to cross my first stream was followed by another long slog to the summit of Meall na Suiramach and my first views of the wonderful otherworldly landscape that is the Quiraing. This incredible place is one of the most spectacular spots on the entire ridge, with its huge cliffs and spires, towering above Staffin Bay. To the south the ridge itself can be seen stretching off into the distance in an almost unbroken series of fantastic cliffs and lochlans. All this is framed by the sweeping landscape below and the blue sea beyond. As if this wasn’t enough, in the distance, the Highlands could be seen stretching away, in a continuous line that promised other great days ahead.

The view from my tent.

 

By now I had done seven kilometres and over 700mtrs of ascent, so I took a well-deserved rest, and just enjoyed where I was and the day. The Quiraing is a popular spot and there were quite a few tourists about. I descended down and crossed the roadway at the col, and as I climbed the steady pull towards the top of Bioda Buidhe, I soon left the people behind. I found myself once more alone and enjoying the wilderness experience. Eventually the broad flat summit was reached and I began to think about finding a spot to camp for the night. A steep descent saw me arrive at a narrow col, with a deep  gully dropping to flatter ground below. There was no water near here so I plodded on towards the next col where there was more of a promise of water. As I neared the col I was delighted to see a gushing stream coming down from Beinn Edra. Good flat dry ground about 100mtrs away from the stream decided the issue; I had found my home for the night. It was a great relief to finally drop the bag and take off the boots and wander about unencumbered. I took my time choosing my spot to pitch the tent. I found a nice flat dry spot at the actual col itself (Bealach Uige) and set up my home. The view was stupendous, and I spent the rest of the evening in blissful solitude, enjoying one of the best wild camping experiences I ever had. I ate, sat, read, and listened to music for the evening. Later I enjoyed the changing play of light on the fantastic landscape before me. All the travel, and all the hauling of the bag, was well worth the effort. It was a joy to find myself here, in this magic spot.

Day 3, Wednesday June 20^th;

And so it continues

After walking 13 kilometres and over 900mtrs of ascent the day before I was under no illusions about the day to come. Twenty seven kilometres and around 1600mtrs of climbing lay ahead, and the bag remained heavy despite a little food having been consumed. Still I was not about to complain. I awoke to another radiant morning with blue skies, and that incredible view to sooth the soul. I lingered over my muesli and water (yum yum) and had a nice strong coffee and biscuits. Soon enough I had everything packed up and was ready for the off. The one drawback of camping in a col, is that in order to continue, you have to climb out of it. The 320mtrs pull to the summit of Beinn Edra soon got rid of any lingering cobwebs. Before me the ridge stretched for a considerable distance both north and south. I was now in the heart of it, but it was still a long way to The Storr, which would be the highest point on the ridge, and mark the beginning of the end of the route. West, lay the Outer Hebrides and east I could see a large part of the western edge of the Scottish Highlands. Further to the south the jagged pinnacles of the Cuillin could be seen, beckoning me on towards adventures for the days to come.

A panorama from the summit of The Storr

The Storr and the Old Man

The final summit on the ridge

 

Still no point in dallying as I still had a long way to go. There followed a continuous succession of ups and downs, that steadily drained the energy. Eventually, I found myself at the base of the climb up to The Storr. Here I enjoyed a bite of lunch and replenished my water supply. The slog to the top seemed endless but the rewards upon reaching the top more than made up for the effort. Here you can stand atop the huge cliffs that drop sheer for over 200mtrs and look down on the fantastical collection of rock pinnacles and protrusions, that in mist, make this a unique and haunting spot. Today it was merely breath-taking with expansive vistas drawing the eye elsewhere. I searched and searched, but could find no sign of the cave, where the paintings featured in the Prometheus documentary 😀, are to be seen. I’m beginning to doubt the veracity of it. What do you mean it was fiction 😲.

The view to Portree with the Cuillin beyond.

  

Anyway from here the end was in sight but it was still a depressingly long way to go. Portree nestles around a beautiful cove on the eastern side of the island but from here it was still a good thirteen kilometres away. Another long descent saw me arrive at Bealach Beag. I was hoping to find some water here but there was none to be had so I continued on for another couple of kilometres to Bealach Mor. Again there was no water here so I had to drop the bag and walk downhill for 500mtrs to find a source. Back again with liquids replenished I set off up the last climb on the route towards the summit of Ben Dearg over 200 punishing meters above. I was quite tired by now, and was less than delighted, to find that the final couple of kilometres before I hit the road at Achachork, were the roughest and boggiest of the whole route. Eventually I reached the road and the four remaining kilometres to the centre of the village were tough on my tired feet. It was a little disconcerting to be back in a busy bustling tourist spot, but the excellent fish and chips I enjoyed were a real treat. I didn’t have to wait long for a bus that whisked me out of town, and soon I was pitching my tent in the campsite in Sligachan. I was well tired by now, but a change of clothes and a long hot shower, went some way to restoring my wellbeing. I settled down to wait for the guy whom I had agreed to meet in order to climb the Cuillin Ridge over the following few days. He didn’t show because a misunderstanding about  the rendezvous place, and it meant that I was alone. Another aside is that the midges were absolutely awful. All you had to do was stop in the one spot for a few minutes and they would find you. Almost immediately a cloud of the vicious f##kers would envelope you. Still the site is located in a wonderful spot and the view towards the northern end of the Cuillin is breath-taking. I was looking forward to the following days.

A very healthy 27 kilometres covered and almost 1600 metres ascent. Over the two days 40 kilometres and 2500 metres ascent. The Trotternish Ridge is something of a wolf in sheep's clothing. Amazing place.

Day 4, June 21^st;

Sgurr nan Gillean from Sligachan

I had perused the guidebook and map, and decided that Sgurr nan Gillean would be a good outing. The day was good, with a high layer of cloud, that was well above the tops. My route was to ascend Sgurr Beag first to gain the ridge and then northeast to the summit. I then hoped to descend the west ridge and climb Am Basteir.  I was feeling the effects of the previous days but it was a welcome relief to have a much lighter sack to haul. My feet were also suffering the effects and I think a new pair of boots is required for these multi day excursions. I had the day long to complete the route so I set off at a leisurely pace.  I followed the path in by the Sligachan river until I was under the cliffs on the western flank of Marsco. Here I left the path and easily crossed the river. I then started the climb towards the dark gabbro slabs that rose towards Sgurr Beag. I was really looking forward to getting my hands on this famously rough rock and it didn’t disappoint. It is terribly coarse, and I imagine that anybody unfortunate enough to slide down it, would have the skin scoured from their body very quickly indeed. Still it was wonderful, and the climbing was easy, yet interesting. Nice steady progress was made and soon enough I had attained the main ridge. Here, the alpine qualities of these famous mountains, were much in evidence and brought the Aiguilles Rouges very much to mind.

Sgurr nan Gillean's elegant summit

The dramatic Sgurr na h-Uamha

Looking in the Sligachan Valley

 

To the south, Sgurr na h-Uamha provides a spectacular and fitting end to this famous ridge, but my destination lay northwest. The ridge ahead was engagingly narrow, and gradually rose towards a pleasingly elegant summit. It drew me forward, and ever more difficult and exposed scrambling had to be negotiated before I arrived at the small airy summit slab. This was a wonderful eerie and a great spot to sit and enjoy a bite to eat. To the west and south the entire range was on display, and it truly inspired. Away to the southeast, the beautiful outlier Bla Bheinn, was another attraction. Pinnacle Ridge to the north, lay in wait for another day. My descent route looked narrow and tricky, and whispered that all my cares were not yet behind me. I set off down carefully and things progressed smoothly, until I came to a crenelated narrow section, which required me to down climb a vertical chimney. There were adequate hand and footholds, so this soon passed. An easy path then led down to the bealach under Am Basteir. I was quite weary now, and I was in two minds as to whether to continue up the ridge to Am Basteir. I decided to climb it, and set on up the easy ridge. Airy but easy scrambling led to a sudden drop a little way short of the summit. I knew there was a way to avoid it and continue, but as I was quite tired, I couldn’t be bothered trying to find the route, and I returned to the col. A long descent via the Bhasteir Gorge led pleasantly back to the valley floor and the tent. I needed some supplies so I decided to catch a bus into Protree for the shops. I was just stowing away my climbing gear when I spotted the bus rounding the headland about a quarter mile away. I changed as fast as I could, and made a dash for the bus stop, only to see him drive off when I was only 100mtrs away. I decided to try hitching instead, and lo and behold, I had a drive in a couple of minutes. A short turnaround in Portree saw me back in my tent an hour later just before it started to rain. It rained for most of the night but I didn’t mind as I was after another good day.

Day 5; June 22^nd;

Camasunary bothy and Sgurr na Stri beyond

 

Today dawned cloudy but dry. I had looked at my options over the next few days, and decided to head to the southern end of the Cuillin, and camp either in Camasunary or at Lough Coruisk. This meant following the path along the river Sligachan through Glen Sligachan, then along Strath na Creitheach until you pass Loch na Creitheach and then enter Camasunary Bay. This is a well-made thirteen kilometre trail, that wends its way easily through wonderful scenery.  As you crest the little col by An t-Sron, the immaculate beauty of the bay is revealed. Framed on either side by mountains, and the islands of Egg and Rum in the distance, it is a magic spot indeed. This, coupled with the fact that the day was after clearing, and blue skies and sunshine were once again to the fore, meant I was having a great time. I crossed the grassy field from what was a fine dwelling nestling on the eastern side, to what was supposed to be a bothy on the western side. I didn’t know what this was like, but when I arrived, I was delighted to discover that it was in good condition, clean, with four bedrooms. Each of  which had raised sleeping platforms. I immediately decided to stay here for a couple of days.

I unpacked all my stuff in one of the rooms and relaxed for a bit and had a brew. I spent a little time exploring my surroundings, and as time passed, my enchantment with my new home only increased. After a while I found myself eying the splendid rocky mountain called Sgurr na Stri, which the guide book said offered a top class grade three scramble to its summit. As it was so near, it would be a shame not to have a look, so off I set. It didn’t disappoint. Even though it is only 494mtrs high, I enjoyed a wonderful scramble to its summit, that was on pure gabbro from around 200mtrs upwards. The summit, or should I say summits, are split by deep gulch. I clambered across to the western top, and there, I enjoyed a view to rival any I have ever seen. It is reputed to be the best view in Scotland, and I would not argue. From here, the entirety of the Cuillin are revealed, rising around the glistening Loch Coruisk. I sat a fair while and just soaked it in. I felt fortunate indeed to be in such a spot, on such a day. No matter what happened from here I felt that this trip could now be classed as a success. Eventually I made to return down, initially heading north, before picking my way carefully down steep ground, until I reached the river that drains Loch na Creitheach.  And so back to the bothy, where later I was joined by five young Belgian hikers who provided good company for the evening. That night I slept like a baby.

The view of Loch Coruisk and the Cuillin from Sgurr na Stri

Day 6, June 23^rd;

Today the plan was to once again attain the Cuillin Ridge. I went around the coastal path from Camasunary to Coruisk. Even though this is only four kilometres it is quite rough and is a little scrabbly in parts, and even has its own “bad step” which provides a short but airy problem. The day was unfortunately overcast and there was a constant threat of rain. The rugged terrain and seascapes still made it feel quite exotic to me, and I was once again enjoying myself immensely. It took over one and a half hours to get to the stepping stones at the outlet of Loch Coruisk, and by now the day was deteriorating yet further. The rain occasionally came, and at times, the cloud was covering the steep slabs a mere 200mtrs above sea level. After the stepping stones, I picked my way up those slabs, until I came to the flattish ground that had the wonderfully named Mad Burn, draining from An Garbh Coire. This I crossed, and made my way up the blunt nose that ascended towards Gars Bheinn. I was now in the clouds, and when I reached an easement in the gradient, I began to doubt that I was in the right area, and feared I had ventured too far to the left/south. I sat down and resolved to wait for a break in the clag before I made a decision whether to venture on or not.

A moody Gars Bheinn

 

 I had been considering climbing the spur that let directly to Sgurr a Choire Bhig, but at a grade three scramble, and considering the weather, I opted instead for the grade one route to Gars-Bheinn. Soon enough a slight clearance came, and I was able to see that I was actually right where I was supposed to be. Strange mountains in the mist and rain can be intimidating for the solo climber, and here I was beset by self-doubt, and a feeling of vulnerability. Still, I resolved to continue on, but I would not force the issue, and I would turn around when I felt I needed to. So, decision made, I headed for a steep narrow promontory, that signalled the start of the route to the summit. When I arrived here, I was very disappointed to find that the rock was Basalt, and was horribly slippery and fractured. Though the climbing was easy it felt exposed and horrible. I took the easiest route I could find, and resolved to descend easier ground a little further up, if things didn’t improve. Onward and upward I went and I soon saw that the way didn’t actually stick to the crest of the ridge, but went up a scree slope on the right. Onward ever upward and suddenly the summit headwall loomed fearsomely out of the mist. It looked desperate, and I could see no obvious way to surmount it.

 I sat and figured what to do, and looked again at the guide book. It was only a grade one scramble so there had to be an easy solution. Sure enough, the book told of a path on a ledge on the right hand side that rounded all difficulties, and allowed for easy access to the summit. This I followed and soon found myself on top. I decided to continue along the ridge to the next top Sgurr a Choire Bhig, and then decide what to do next. I went along the airy but easy ridge, and upon reaching the top, decided to retrace my steps and descend. There was no point in staying on top as there was nothing to see, and I could have been anywhere.  So, down easily I went, marvelling at the peridotite boulders that littered the corrie floor. Eventually I reached the Mad Burn, and descended a different route. This brought me directly to the wonderfully situated SMC hut at Loch na Cuilce. Back again along the coastal path, where I got my first ever sighting of a Basking Shark. The giant was about a half kilometre off shore and stayed on the surface for about ten seconds before it once again slipped from view. Eventually the bothy once again came into view, and once again, I relaxed for the evening. This evening I was joined by a tall English gentleman, who quickly got a nice fire going in the hearth. Later on, two rangy Dutch menarrived out of the gloom, who were on a flying three day visit to the island. Later still, another man arrived, who had been on a solo attempt of the ridge. His tale of  a dropped rucksack down a steep gully, had us spellbound as he relayed his epic story.

Day 7, June 24^th;

Bla Bheinn

Home sweet home

After another restful night, I awoke today to find that things were still overcast, but there seemed to be little threat of rain. I had only brought enough food for two days, and I now had only a little left. I had to make a decision on what to do for the rest of the day. If I stayed I would have to forgo dinner and breakfast, yet I was loth to climb anything with the full rucksack. I was speaking to Jim (the tall English gentleman) and he very generously gave me sufficient rice and biscuits to last me another day. This made my decision easy, and after a leisurely morning, I crossed the meadow to the base of Bla Bheinn and ascended the routh ridge. This gives a long easy hike to the south summit, but to reach the true summit, you have to overcome a very steep rocky scramble to a narrow arret, and then climb easily to the higher north summit. The cloud was again obstructing any views, but it all added to the atmosphere, and gave the gullies that rent the west face, a savage and menacing aspect. There was no point in dallying so I returned by the same route. I was back down in good time and relaxed for the rest of the evening well happy with not just todays outing but the entire trip. That evening I had a pair of German hikers from Bavaria for company.

Day 8, June 25^th;

Today I began the long journey home. Again it was cloudy but dry so after breakfast I packed up and returned to Sligachan, all the while, enjoying my last views of the majestic scenery. After a three and a half hour hike I arrived at the road at 12.30 and was making my way to the bus stop when I stuck out my thumb for an oncoming car. Lo and behold he stopped, and I enjoyed a wonderful conversation with a weathered man, who was a surveyor of the native Caledonian forests for the government. The trip to Kyle of Lochalsh flew by and I was only sorry that I had to say goodbye to this articulate and entertaining guy. So, once again I commenced the long sequence, of train, boat and  train trips that saw me arrive home 26 hours later. Tired, but well satisfied with all that had passed. I am already relishing the prospect of a return trip. It is truly one of the most beautiful and wild places in western Europe. 

Mangerton and my first 5K race.

View to Torc at the start

Happy Ruby

Elegant Crohane

Today I decided to head to Kerry and have a nice hillwalking with Ruby. The day was a little cloudy but showed promise and was pleasantly warm with little wind. My legs were still a little tired from the marathon a few days ago and I reckoned that this would be just the tonic I needed and be the perfect warm down. Driving back the cloud base was at about 2000ft but by the time we started it was up at about 2500ft and patches of blue sky were beginning to appear. I set a gentle pace and enjoyed getting the blood flowing through the muscles again. The normally sodden and mucky trail was pleasingly dry and the profusion of wildflowers enhanced my already buoyant mood. Ruby of course was in her element and was darting here and there following all the new scents that only she could detect. Her joy at just being out and about was uplifting and I have to say that its a pity that it is so difficult to find places where it is OK to take a dog.

The Horses Glen

Don't you hate it when the hills get crowded

The view towards the Black Valley

The walk was a real pleasure and thankfully my legs were good. Pleasant sunshine and little wind made the round a pleasure. We stopped for a bite to eat on Stoompa and continued easily around onto Mangerton. All the while the views get better and better. We crossed the arete between the Horses Glen and The Devils Punchbowl and walked up Mangerton North. This vantage gives fantastic views across to the Black Valley. Easily down and into Killarney for a coffee.


I got home about 5pm and I then made a snap decision to head to Cork City and enter a 5K race. I had never run a race like this before and I wasn't sure what to expect. There was a huge turnout and the 8pm start was delayed for 10minutes. When the horn sounded the mayhem began. Everybody was ducking and diving and jostling for position and room to run. I was as guilty as anybody and I ran as hard as I dared for the first mile. After about half a mile things loosened out and I was pleased with how I was feeling. As we passed the one mile marker there was a guy shouting the time and it was six minutes 38 seconds. I kept up the pace as best I could and I must say I was glad that the run was so short. The finish line arrived and I timed it at 20minutes 28seconds. I was very happy and I have already resolved to enter more of these sprints and try and get under 20 minutes. This event is also great value as it was only 8€ to enter and we got tea and sandwiches after plus a 20% voucher for a local sports shop. Result.

Burren Marathon Challenge

Camping Heaven

Glamorous Petra

On the 26th of May I ran my first marathon. This was held in the Burren in County Clare and based in the lovely little village of Ballyvaughan. I had run the Fanore half marathon last August and enjoyed it immensely so I knew what to expect terrain wise but was not sure how I would react to the distance involved in the full marathon. Ambrose Flynn told me that a friend of his Petra Toralova needed a drive to the race so I arranged to meet her in Limerick. I set off on Friday afternoon on a glorious sunny day and collected Petra and headed for the same camping spot I discovered last year. It is a wonderful spot by the sea in rugged and wild surroundings. We spent some time chatting and exploring our surroundings and after a bite to eat we retired to our tents early to ensure we got as much sleep as possible before the race. Petra was doing the Half marathon. Both events were starting at the same time 9am, so we set our alarms for 06.15. A decent nights sleep ensued.

Sunset

Beautiful.....landscape

A stiff breeze meant there was a chill in the air when we rose the following morning. I had as big a breakfast as I dare to ensure I would have a good store of energy for the long run ahead. We broke camp and set off for Ballyvaughan at 07.20. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and the day promised to be a hot one despite the breeze. We were in good time and initially there didn't seem to be many about. We were directed to our parking and once sorted we returned to the start to register. People were pouring in and we saw that in total there was an entry of over 1000. Over 500 entries for the Half marathon and over 200 for the Full marathon. Soon enough the start approached and the DJ did his stuff and by the off we were buzzing.

Beautiful cottage in Ballyvaughan

The first few miles were along the road and provided a nice gentle start. Then we turned left onto a rough track and we gradually climbed out onto open hillside, and the wonderful expansive views of the unique landscape that is the Burren were a constant and pleasing distraction from the effort. Soon the junction where the half marathon separated from the route of the full one arrived. I was very briefly tempted to swing onto the shorter route but stayed on course. I was actually enjoying myself. I tried not to think too much about how far I had to go and instead concentrated on my surroundings and how I was feeling. A steep pull on to the hill behind Fanore gave way to one of the highlights of the route. A long run along the plateau afforded one uninterrupted views across the sea to the Aran Islands. A long gentle descent on the road followed and we arrived in Fanore and the sixteen mile mark.

Petra after her run

I earned that

 I was still feeling OK but when we went off road again and turned into the wind things started to feel tough. We crossed the road and the ground again became steeper so I had to walk for a short while. The track soon became a "green road" and this contoured around and above Black Head and was so beautiful that it distracted me from the rigours of the run and made the section from 19miles to 22miles very bearable. Then came the final section on the road. I guess you could say I hit the wall. I felt like time slowed and the mile markers seemed to take forever to come. After I passed the 24mile marker I had to walk a few times but this felt just as difficult so I shuffled on. Eventually I could see the finish and Petra was there and she ran the last hundred meters with me cheering and clapping. I got a great reception at the finish and I think I was actually quite emotional. I had done it, and even though I was exhausted I was elated as well. I didn't know whether to sit or stand and walk about so I did a bit of both. Petra fussed about me and distracted me from my aches. Pretty soon I was reasonably recovered and I walked back to the car and had a wash and got changed.

I finished in 3 hours 50 minutes and was in 15th place. I was delighted and astonished. I'm not sure whether I will do another one but you never know. It was also a delight to meet Petra. Her radiant smile and personality certainly added to the experience. I'm sure we will have other adventures in the future.

Climbing in the Gap of Dunloe and going to W.A.R

My lead goes from the bottom left up to the centre and then straight up the face.

Recently myself and Frank, decided to head to the Gap of Dunloe to do a spot of rock climbing. The weather forecast was iffy so it was a real pleasure to discover a cloudless sky and no wind. A great day was in prospect. On days such as this there is no finer place to spend a few hours than the Gap. There is a wide range of routes here from the relatively simple to multi pitch brutes well into the Es. The relatively easy is where both Frank and I ply our trade. We decided on Bohane as our crag of choice. This is easy to access and offers several routes at the HS and VS standard with some harder options thrown in. It is a short climb to the base of the rock and I was surprised to find that we appeared to be the only climbers in the whole of the Gap. Soon we were at the base of the crag and I decided to jump straight in and lead the first climb. Perhaps a little foolish as I hadn't exactly been climbing at all of late. I set my sights on First Comes First Served a 15 mtr VS that is easily protected. I huffed and puffed but finally made the final moves to the top. It had been a fair while since I had led any serious rock routes so it felt tougher than perhaps it should but I enjoyed it none the less and it set us up for the rest of the day.

Frank abbing down the face.

We enjoyed a great day in warm sunshine and climbed another six or seven routes, all top roped. We were both very pleased with how we climbed, for although the rustiness was obvious we felt better than we had expected and when we were done we resolved to go rock climbing whenever we could. The following week we went to the crag by the road called Brennans Leap. Here again we enjoyed a very good day on all quite difficult routes up to HVS. All top roped again but we felt we needed to practice before we led some more. I did spot a couple of routes that I intend to lead the next time I am there. Both at VS so not setting the world alight but they will do me. Watch this space. One aside was on our last climb there I managed to give my ribs a good bang. They didn't come against me when we went up to Rescue Rock for a final few climbs that afternoon but the following few days they grew quite painful and I feared I had done some damage but thankfully they improved towards the following weekend which was just as well as I was entered for the Wicklow Adventure Race on Saturday 14th April.

Wicklow Adventure Race (WAR),

I had been running a fair bit and getting on the bike occasionally so I was reasonably confident that I would have the stamina for what is billed as one of the toughest adventure races in the country. At 73k long with two hill runs and three cycling sections it certainly lived up to its billing. I headed up to Glendalough with James Moore on the Friday afternoon and we stayed in the excellent local hostel. We were fascinated by the sight of a guy practicing changing his tubes for in excess of 200minutes into the gathering gloom. He professed himself pleased that his time was now under seven minutes. Dedicated or what. A decent nights sleep followed but when we awoke the morning of the race we were greeted with a blustery cold morning and thunder and lightning lending and ominous soundtrack to our breakfast. Thankfully the storm did not last long and by the time we were gathering for the start things had improved considerably. Still there was a chill in the breeze and the sight of snow on the hill tops ensured that we donned all our running kit before the start. We were in the third wave as it would have been somewhat pretentious to call ourselves experts. James was at something of a disadvantage as he has been really busy since the arrival of his baby son Elliot last Autumn and so his training had suffered but he is nothing if not determined and he was as eager as me for the off.

The first section was a 10k hill run over Spink mountain. It started off zig zagging up a forest track before joining a well made trail on mostly railway sleepers. It took a while to trust that these weren't slippy but once confidence was gained they allowed for rapid movement over the boggy ground. There followed a technical on a rough stony trail back to the bike changeover. I was very pleased with how the run went and I reckon I was about third in my wave.
I had tinkered with the idea of changing the pedals on my bike from cleats to basket types. This would have negated the necessity to change shoes at each interchange from hill running to the bike section. This meant I lost a fair bit of time at the changeovers and over the course of the event I reckon I lost in excess of 10 minutes.
Anyway the first bike section was OK with a very gradual climb on good roads before a swift decent to the next stage on the Kayak. Here I didn't bother changing shoes and ran in the cleats the few hundred meters to the water where I paired up with a young fella for the two kilometers. He was not a great help as by the time we had rowed three hundred meters he was complaining that his back was aching and he spent most of the rest of the section laying flat on the Kayak. A few pairs overtook us but when we reached the shore I said goodbye and ran back to the bike.

I'm having fun...honest

The  swift descent to the lake meant that the return on the bike was steeply uphill. Cold was now a bit of a problem, especially after the initial climb and moving swiftly over open country meant the full effects of the chill breeze was felt. Soon enough the punishing climb up to the start of the second hill run up Djouce Mountain arrived. This was a bit of a ball breaker and I had to hop off the bike and walk for 50meters to surmount a particularly steep spot. I was very glad to get off the bike but again considerable time was lost trying to fit cold wet feet into the running shoes. On the plus side the day was now lovely. Chilly yes but blue skies ensured that the countryside was being seen at its best. A long flat traverse around the mountain meant I was able to keep running until the gradual climb to the broad boggy summit. I was feeling the strain by now but at the top we joined a well made trail of sleepers again and soon I was moving nicely on the return leg to the bike.
Again the problem of changing footwear and I was off on the final cycle. This was the longest section that passed over the Sally Gap and then a long descent to the final section. The pull over the Gap was tough on my weary legs but the descent went fine although I tried to push a good gear and therefore was tiring. Eventually the final changeover arrived and now all I was faced with was a run of just three kilometers to the finish. Gosh it was tough. I had to stop and walk several times and frankly I thought it would never end. I was exhausted as I crossed the finish. I  was cold and hungry yet nevertheless very pleased with my effort. I finished in a little less than 5 hours and came 67th. The long hot shower afterwards was heaven and went some way to reviving me. Well done to James who also finished well. I think we will both be back.

Rock Climbing.

Dingle climbing wall

High on Howling Ridge VDiff

Frank and myself have continued to get on rock whenever we can. We have had a couple of great days in the Gap of Dunloe and had a lovely day climbing Howling Ridge on Carrauntoohil. Here are a few pics from those days.

Mallow 10Mile 2012

It is amazing how time flies. Another year has passed and the Mallow 10Mile road race has come around again. I have been doing a bit more in the way of training this year and I hoped to beat the time I set last year of 71mins 54. Last Wednesday I decided to do a good long run and set off for Glantane and turned right up the hill for a run I have done often enough before. I did a roundabout route through Dromohane and back home. 12 miles in all but for the last three I was suffering a fair bit of pain from the hamstring on my right leg. It has been tight for a good while but today it felt like it was going to snap but I had to get home so I continued on. I ended up doing the run in 85 minutes but I was worried that I had done some damage. The considerable aching pain I had that evening did little to reassure me but by the following day things had improved and they continued to do so over the next couple of days. I went for a couple of gentle jogs with Ruby on Bweeng Mountain and Mount Hillary on Friday and Saturday and the leg felt like it was loosening out a bit. As I was working nights I took the opportunity to leave from work and head for a climb on the Galtees.


The day was dry and chilly as I set off from the Coillte car park on the north side of the range. The objective for this morning was the Clydagh Valley Horseshoe. This is a nice outing of approximately 13K in length and 1100mtrs of ascent. It was bang on 8am when I left the car. I decided to do the route anti-clockwise today for a change and head for Knocknanuss and over Slievecushnabinnea and on to Galtymore. The steep slog up Knocknanuss is a bit of a leg burner but the expanding views across the valley more than make up for it. Soon enough the gradient eases but as I went higher so did the biting wind. Heading along the ridge towards Galtymor there was no doubt that hat and gloves were required. Above 800meters there was a coating of hoare frost on the grass which reminded one (if one needed reminding today) that winter was not gone yet.
I was walking strongly and the hamstring wasn't giving any trouble so I was enjoying myself immensely. A layer of cloud veiled the summit so there was no reason to delay and I descended out of the biting cold to the col under Galtybeg. There is a real problem now on the Galtees with damage caused by the thousands that visit there mountains and the ever widening scars caused by hikers is becoming more and more of a eyesore. Progress is at best mucky and I fear that it is only a matter of time before someone falls to their death from a steep mucky patch above Lough Diheen. All the way to the summit of Galtbeg the ground is mucky but thereafter the descent to the col under Cush is OK. I actually ran about two-thirds of this and continued to set a brisk pace for the 180meters to the top. Again I ran down to the level shoulder under it and walked the rest of the way to the car. The day was now sunny and clear and low down the temperatures were very pleasant. I arrived back at the car exactly 3hours after I started and well happy with my outing.

And so the day arrived for the run. I had been looking forward to this for a while and I was hoping that my hamstring would not come against me too much. There was a huge entry this year with 1100 online and another couple of hundred turning up on the day. This meant that the start was quite congested and again I stayed too far back so after the gun for the start went I was just shuffling for a bit and had to duck and weave my way past many before I could settle into a decent run. This meant that I was 7mins 40 seconds doing the first mile and I was going to have to really speed up if I was going to come near my target of 70minutes for the race. I ran the next three miles at an average of 6mins 40 so passing the four mile marker I was back on track with a bit to spare. We were now running into a stiff headwind but I managed to maintain a seven minute mile for the next two. Between miles six and seven there is an uphill section and as fatigue was now becoming a factor I lost a fair bit of time here and was back outside target again. One good thing was that while the hamstring was quite tight it never pained me so I was able to push on. I would love to say that the last three miles passed in a blur but no, I remember them as an aching lung busting twenty minutes that I was very glad to see the end of. The pacemaker for seventy minutes had passed me at the seven mile mark and steadily drew away from me as we re-entered the town, so I was resigned to just missing my target. It was with delight that as I neared the finish line I could see the clock count down towards the seventy minutes. A final push over the last fifty meters saw me cross in 69minutes 54seconds. Not much under the seventy but seeing that sixty nine next to my name meant the world to me. I was fatigued but delighted but I am wondering what my target should be for next year, dare I dream of sub sixty five???.

Cnocnapeiste Ridge 4th March 2012

Cnoc na Peista

Gendarmes

Looking towards An Garbh

Plenty of people about

Nice rock despite the snow

Easier than it looks

Sometimes a day comes along that is a real unexpected bonus. I suppose that since I returned from Scotland I had thought that any chance of a wintry day on the mountains had passed. So as I headed back to Killarney to meet with Frank it was a real surprise to see Caherbarna nicely dusted in snow down to a low level. I had brought all my rock climbing gear with me just in case we headed for the gap but with the sun shining and the mountains looking magnificent there was really only one option so we headed for the car park at Lisliebane and the Reeks. We decided to head for Cruach Mor and head across the ridge and just continue as far as we felt like. The slog up to the lake under the ridge is always a chore but in fairness Frank made very light work of it and when we reached it we turned and enjoyed little scrambly steps to the summit.

Spectacular ridge

We stopped here for a welcome lunch and enjoyed the shelter provided by the grotto. A stiff breeze made it feel quite chilly despite the sun. I was relieved to discover that there was no ice in evidence as neither of us had thought to bring crampons or axes. The crenellated ridge offered lovely occasionally exposed scrambling and as we neared An Garbh the weather changed and we were overtaken by a snow shower that gave the outing a distinctly wintry feel. I was loving it. It soon passed and on the descent to the col the continuing ridge cleared and looked splendid. We stuck to the skyline and we soon reached to top of Cnoc naPeiste. The wind was quite strong at times and we were occasionally blasted by spindrift as we headed along the easy ridge. We were in heaven and we both felt privileged to be here and experiencing it. We went down the Zig Zags and I was appalled to see the wear and tear that this route is now showing. When are the powers that be finally build a properly constructed path to the summits of these mountains?. Until this is done the scarring that is spreading across these mountains will only get worse. Anyway we got down and we were well happy with our great bonus of a day. Perhaps winter isn't over yet.

Windy and spindrift

Happy chappie

Colour down below

If only the ice would form

Another happy chappie