Friday 24 July 2020

After Lockdown..A weekend in Caherciveen and another in Glengarriff.


CAHERCIVEEN

Friday July 3rd;

This pandemic life is weird. Work has changed and to be frank, there is only so much gardening a guy can do. Now that the lockdown restrictions have been lifted in the country I decided that a couple of days away with my tent would be just the ticket to ease my travel longings. Normally by this time of year I would probably have had a couple of trips under my belt by now, not including my excellent trip to Scotland in Feb/March. I had thought of heading back to Scotland or The Lakes, and a hike somewhere in Europe in June was also on the cards. That is not to say that lockdown has been hard for me, far from it. I have been blessed by good health and for the most part enjoyed some excellent times at home. Still, I was ready for a little excursion.

I decided to head to Caherciveen on this occasion and stay in the excellent Mannix Point campsite. The weather could have been kinder. Strong winds were forecast for the weekend but not a lot of rain was due. As I drove back the cloudy skies lowered and drizzle swept across the windscreen. All views disappeared and frankly I could have been anywhere. No mountains or sea was to be seen but my spirits were high and a buzz of anticipation course in me. I must confess to having been both dismayed, and to be honest a little frightened, when I saw quite a few English registration cars on the road. The country had done really well to suppress the virus in the community and it was because of that, that it felt secure enough to have a few days away. It somehow felt like an intrusion, or violation, to see foreigners putting this good work at risk. Anyway it was not an overpowering reservation and I continued west. Traffic was quite busy, and I couldn't see any great difference between high season this year or other years.  It was almost 7pm by the time I arrived the clearly very busy campsite but I was directed to one of the camping areas and I managed to secure a nice sheltered and relative secluded spot for myself. I was somewhat sceptical that some of larger family tents would survive the strong wind unscathed but bar a couple of broken guy lines they were okay. It must have been a noisy night in them though.

Saturday 4th July;

The weather this morning was just the same as the previous evening. Stiff winds filed to shift the low clouds and drizzle swept across the bleak land. It was not the most promising day for a cycle. If I was at home, getting on the bike would have been the last thing I would have done, but after making the journey down I decided to brave the conditions and go. The drizzle passed and it was just a mist as I pedaled up the rough road out of the campsite. I set my lights to flashing and turned into the wind and set off towards Ballinskelligs. If the weather was better I would have opted to do a circuit over the Ballaghisheen Pass and Caragh Lake and back but since it was so bad the shorter circuit that goes to Ballinskelligs and Port Magee would suffice. The section of road that heads towards Waterville was on the Ring of Kerry and was reasonably busy but it passed okay. When I turned onto the road for Ballinskelligs things were quieter but the wind was now directly into my face and progress was slow. I didn't have much in the way of a view to distract me as the cloud literally hung no more than twenty or thirty metres above the sea. I reached the village and it was a relief to turn right and have the wind helping a little. I was however now going uphill as I headed towards St Finians Bay. I was up in the cloud well before I crested the pass at the shoulder of Bolus Head. To say that the view from the pass is normally stunning is an understatement. It is undoubtedly one of my favourite places in all of Kerry. The mystical and spectacular Skellig Rocks are spectacularly framed from here and it is normally a must stop and take pictures kind of spot. Today however, all was completely hidden from view so I enjoyed the rest as I free wheeled all the way down to the little beach and village at Keel.

I have cycled this route once before so I knew what was in store for me as I once again turned and faced into the climb that had to be done before I could reach Port Magee. Coonanaspic is the name of the climb and while it is not long it is super steep in places. The wind was helping which was a plus and the gradient is initially not too bad. I was lulled into something of a false sense of security. Once you reach the section where the road switchbacks up the hillside, then the strain begins in earnest. I managed to continue to make progress (just) and eventually I turned the final bend and I could see the crest up ahead, tantalizingly close. The trouble is that the road is now at it's steepest and I was barely turning the pedals. Only about 50 metres before things eased back I saw that a couple of cars were coming up behind me. I might have made the top but it would have been touch and go and to be honest I could have just as easily fallen in front of the cars in the narrow road. It was a simple relief to dismount, let the cars pass, and walk the final few metres to the top. The descent on the far side is also steep and provides a fast and exhilarating descent to Port Magee but today I had to keep the brakes on as I was in the fog almost all the way down. Once I reached the village and as I was feeling pretty reasonable I decided to head offshore and include a circuit of the beautiful Valentia Island in my day. This added 21 kilometres to the outing with the final10 of those back into the wind. The big bonus was that once I crossed the bridge back to Port Magee I had the wind directly behind me back to the campsite. Add to this an excellent road surface and I really enjoyed this stretch.

The rain had stayed away and only the odd spot of mist was all I had to contend with. I had coped pretty well with the wind but it was still a relief to enjoy a long warming shower when I returned to the campsite. There was nothing positive to say about the weather but at least I had done something with my day. 71 kilometres covered, 880 metres climbing in 3 hours 10 minutes.

Sunday July 5th;

The cloud and mist of yesterday was thankfully gone and mostly blue skies and sunshine greeted me this morning. One thing that wasn't gone however, was the wind. If anything it was a little stronger than yesterday. I had a choice of things to do today. I could go for a hillwalk or go for a run. I had been looking at the map and there seemed to be a 15 kilometre or so run around Bentee, a hill of 376 metres that rises behind the town. It seemed a better option considering how strong the wind was so I opted for this. I togged out and set off on the run. One thing about starting your run from sea level is that to go anywhere you have to go up hill. It is a gentle enough slope and I wasn't exactly in a hurry so I just ambled along. The hill went on a fair old ways though and by the time I reached the narrow bohereen I had gone for a kilometre and a half and gained over 70 metres. I was glad to turn onto a level road.Well, it was undulating really, but I was able to enjoy reprieves from the hill. At what was I guess the highest point of the road I spotted a marked hiking trail heading directly up the open hillside so on a whim I took it.
Running had to be abandoned for me here, as the slope was steep and rough. I plodded up the slope and gained the ridge line that headed directly to the summit. I now had lovely views down to the complex juxtaposition of land and sea below and it was glorious. It was also quite chilly in the wind and once I reached the summit I wasn't tempted to linger long. The trail continued across the the south east top which offered me a lovely springy descent across the bog before a sharp 40 metres saw me on this top. I was pleased to see the trail continued down the far side and once I neared the bottom I reached a small narrow little road. I fully expected to remain on tarmac for the remainder of the run but it was a delightful surprise when I was directed almost immediately onto a lovely green passage that contoured around the slope. The trail continued in this vein all the way to the town. Once there I stuck to the higher road and this offered a stiff pull to now tired legs. I was however, able to return to the campsite via the same way I reahed this road so the final stretch was all downhill. It was a delightful outing and offered some wonderful and unexpected trail running.It had been an enjoyable 13 kilometre round with over 500 metres of ascent.

The rather excellent views from the summit of Bentee

As it was still not yet lunchtime I went for a drive out to Whitestrand and generally enjoyed the wonderful countryside before returning to the campsite. Feeling pretty recovered I decided to head for a short cycle. I went across the bridge and cycled to the pretty harbour at Coonanna before backtracking a little and continuing along the narrow road until I reached the main road back to town. Now I was cycling directly into the wind and it felt like a war of attrition until finally I reached the campsite. It had been just over 50 minutes and just shy of 20 kilometres, but as the final 7 kilometres were so tough I was glad it was over. It had filled out the day nicely and I enjoyed a nice relaxing evening.
Beautiful and impressive ring fort




Guy lines had to be well secured.

Monday July 6th;

Today I was heading home but I was looking forward to this outing the most. I was going to have a hike on Knocknadobar. It isn't a particularly taxing outing but the view from this peak is one of the best in the country. I always have a soft spot for any mountain that rises directly from the sea and that is certainly the case here. The strong winds of the previous days were thankfully absent and it was a mostly blue sky kind of morning. Some cloud did cling to the summit but I was hopeful that it would burn off soon. I parked at the car park at the start of the "pilgrim route" and set off up. The path is well defined and quite easy as it zig zaggs up the rough hillside.For those feeling super fit, is a route that could provide a possible hill run. After I gained some height, the ridge line on the right looked too inviting, so I left the comforts of the trail and set off steeply to the crest. Once up here the full glory of the scenery is revealed and I enjoyed a delightful stretch along the ridge as I rose towards the summit. At least I did until I reached the stubborn cloud that persisted at the 600 metre level and shrouded the top. I reached the broad stony top just over an hour after setting off, but with nothing in the way of a view I didn't delay in continuing on my way.


 Perhaps I should have delayed a little bit and got my map and compass out. I was heading for the north top, but I just took a guesstimate and started walking. When I emerged under the cloud I discovered that I was several hundred metres off line. It was no biggie. The ground is easy and straightforward and I was in no danger. I reached the north top and enjoyed the delightful descent along the broad ridge as it descended towards the pretty bay below. In previous outings I have descended the final slopes to the left and made my way to the pier from that side. Today I decided to try the right (seaward) side and see how passable (or not) this way would be. There were two things I had to worry about. First that I would reach very steep, impassable ground, or have to try and negotiate large swathes of tall bracken. I spotted a well worn sheep track and I decided to follow that. It provided a wonderful route that led all the way to the shore line. Steep drops to the sea were easily avoided and when the weather was so wonderful it was a joy to gaze down on the blue expanse of sea on the way down. Once I reached the rocky shore it was straightforward to follow it all the way to the pier. I then walked the couple of kilometres along the delightful lane back to my car. The whole outing had taken just two and a half hours but it had been very enjoyable and had provided a lovely end to the trip. I was in great spirits for the drive home.
I do like to be beside the seaside.

GLENGARRIFF

 Friday July 10th;

I was off for another camping trip this weekend. This time the weather forecast was a lot better and I opted to head to Glengarriff. Today I decided I would head for the Sheep's Head and "enjoy" another run on this beautiful area. I planned on going for, perhaps, a two hour outing so I reckoned that if I got there around 14.00 I would be back in the campsite in Glengarriff in good time for dinner. Well, the drive down took longer than I had thought, and it was almost 14.45 when  I finally reached the parking area and cafe at the very end of the peninsula. Oh my word, what a glorious place this is. A long drive on ever narrowing roads, sees you eventually arrive in this elevated,wild place. The ocean was a deep blue and the Mizen Peninsula jutted out to the south and the glorious Beara Peninsula stretched far into deep on the northern side. I didn't delay in getting ready and I set off on the delightful initial section that follows an excellent technical trail that runs along the spine of the hill and heads inland. Initially this is tough as you are climbing but after a short while you are mostly descending and it is simply joyous.
The weather helped of course, and today was just about perfect. Eventually after a few kilometres you cross a little road and now the trail follows a green road for a while. Myself and Kevin have enjoyed a couple of outings here before. The first one was over seven years ago (where does the time  go?) when we went for a long four hour + outing that was as exhausting as it was exhilarating. It had been my first ever visit to the area and I was immediately hooked. Our next trip was three yeas ago when we went for a shorter outing as part of a weekend trip to Glengarriff. That time the weather had been poor but it was enjoyable none the less. This time I was trying to find a happy medium ground and I hoped to find a route that would stretch to over 20 kilometres and one that I could link up to the fabulous trail that runs along the northern shores as far as the lighthouse.
When the trail reached the road I decided to follow the Sheeps Head Way signs and basically see where I would end up. There followed a delightful few kilometres which wend mostly along grassy trails and descended to the shoreline. It then gradually rose to meet the road that runs from Kilcrohane to my car. I wasn't going to run all the way back to the car on the road so I determined to find a way to cross to the northern shore. I turned up a lane that rose up the hillside, which I hoped would continue to where I wanted to go. It didn't. After a stiff climb and a kilometre in distance I came to a dead end. I searched in vain for access to the open mountain above but everywhere the way was barred by extensive gorse bushes. At least I was able to enjoy the downhill return. A couple of hundred metres further up the road I came to a way marked post and this I decided to follow. It went up a metaled track called the Miners Road and this provided a good test of stamina as it rose up through the steep rough ground. Eventually the road ended at a pretty little lake and then the trail climbed up the flanks of Caher Mountain. Though this peak only reaches 338 metres it is in wild and rough ground. As I got higher I could see the posts were heading away to the east, so when I reached the crest at around the 250 metre contour I decided to cut my losses and make my way towards a little road I could see to the west of me.
There followed a horrible kilometre as I descended through long grass and heather and sometimes gorse was thrown in to sweeten the deal. Rocky spines of rock added to the spice. Let's just say it wasn't running ground. It was both mentally and physically tiring. It was with some delight I reached a different trail that crossed my way just short of the road. After a little indecision I turned right and to my relief I soon reached the trail at the northern shore. By now I had covered around 16 kilometres and climbed over 500 metres (which would normally be a big outing for me) and I was getting pretty tired. Despite this the next section is a delight as it follows a trail that runs above the sea (some exposed cliffs) and through old ruined miners cottages. It twists and turns and eventually you reach a small bay and another lane. Uphill along this for a few hundred metres before you turn and follow a green road that morphs into a rough trail that leads to a delightful spot near a small waterfall. By now I had covered over 22 kilometres and I was very tired. It was such a pity as the next section it perhaps the best of the whole trail. Even though the trail runs along above the sea, don't be fooled into thinking that it is flat. The climbs may be modest but they are there and I found myself walking any uphill stretches I reached. When I reached the point where the trail branched I had to forego the stunning section that heads to the lighthouse and instead I turned and headed for the car. I was thoroughly banjaxed by the time I arrived at the car and I took a little while to relax and re-hydrate myself before heading towards Glengarriff. I had taken a grand total of nearly 3.5 hours to cover the 24 kilometres and there was over 750 metres ascent thrown in. Later while I studied the maps I saw that when I reached the little lake at the top of the miners road I was just 100 metres from the trail I had joined that led to the north shore. that knowledge would have meant cutting out the dead end detour and the grueling, rough hill section. Ah well, hindsight is wonderful. I must go back and shorten the outing a little bit and do the lighthouse section. The Sheep's Head is simply wonderful.




Saturday July 11th;

I had chanced upon the campsite I stayed in by accident the previous evening. As it had been almost 8pm when I arrived at the entrance to Glengarriff caravan and camping, and seeing two signs for reception, one straight ahead, was the office of the site, and the other pointed to the house on the right of the entrance, I reasoned that the office might be closed so I headed to the house. It turns out that they are two separate sites  and the one by the house is much smaller, quieter and more basic. It was a great find and one which I would highly recommend.

After the stunning weather of yesterday it was great to rise to another blue sky day today. It promised to remain fine throughout so I decided that today would be the ideal one for a cycle. My plan was to head to Adrigole and from there climb over the Healy Pass. Descend to Lauragh, where I would have a choice of doing the climb towards Kenmare on the main road or cycle along by the sea via Tousist. Then once I reached Kenmare I would return to Glengarriff over the Caha Pass. It is a pretty big cycle for a struggling bicyclist like myself and lets just say that my legs knew they had done a long run yesterday. Anyway, I hadn't come all this way to sit on a chair or lie in my tent so I readied myself and set off.
I took it nice and handy (like I had a choice) and soon I was loosened up. Starting at sea level you gain 100 metres of height in the first few kilometres. The gorgeous views were ample compensation for the effort. A final steep section that is graded at over 10% is mercifully short and there follows a long delightful descent towards Adrigole. Hungry Hill always provides a spectacular backdrop but every direction you turn the views are great. After 15 kilometres I reached the turnoff to the Healy Pass. I have cycled this once before and I knew that it wasn't too bad so I was looking forward to the challenge. The first couple of kilometres are along a verdant fuchsia lined lane which heads directly towards the wild mountains ahead. Soon you enter open wild mountain ground and the well surfaced road twists and turns up the hillside as it rises at a gradient of 5% towards the pass. I was able to make steady progress and with the breeze at my back I wasn't too exhausted at the top. After a brief rest I enjoyed wonderful new vistas as I descended towards Lauragh. The road on the north side of the pass is narrower and quite rough in places so some care is needed. All too soon the descent was over and as I was feeling okay I decided to do the climb out of the village. This is again not too bad and nowhere is it steep but it does go on for four kilometres and climbs 170 metres. I must confess to feeling quite tired by the top but a very enjoyable stress free descent allowed me some rest.
A relatively easy 13 kilometres followed as far as Kenmare before I turned and headed for the final leg of the cycle, the Caha Pass.
The road was rough. It seemed that much of the edge had seen repairs and these were poorly done. Before long it is fair to say I was struggling.I was also now heading directly into the breeze which made things a little tougher. Eventually once I passed Bonane the climb started. The road from here to the pass is good and not too steep. The wild surrounds were a welcome distraction and I eventually reached the tunnel that marks the summit. Now I had covered 68 kilometres and it was almost entirely downhill to the end. The first couple of kilometres of the descent was on a twisty rough road and by now me hands were becoming numb from the juddering. Thankfully the final few kilometres were on a wonderfully smooth road that offered a wonderful respite. I cycled the final couple of kilometres to the campsite and pedaled along the grass to my tent. When I un-clipped my left leg from the pedal, for some reason the bike decided to lean to the right and I managed to have a helpless fall onto the edge of the tent. I was mortified and angry in equal measure. It was an ignominious end to the trip but I was unhurt and everything was undamaged. I was soon relaxing in the sunshine and recovering from the rigours of the day. It had been a big cycle for me. 80 kilometres covered, 1100 metres climbed in 3 hours 40 minutes. The dip in the sea that I enjoyed in the afternoon was the icing on the cake.
Healy pass south side



Grand spot for a dip

Sunday July 12th;

The wonderful weather of the previous two days was forecast to change today, with more cloud and possibly some rain in the afternoon. With this in mind, and as I was returning home in the afternoon, I decided to have a hill walk in Gougane Barra. This had the benefit of offering me a hike somewhere I hadn't visited before and it was thirty kilometres in the direction of home. I reached the very pretty, very popular lakeside at Gougane Barra and parked my car near the hotel. An easy walk along the road led into the public park. I had planned a fairly long route in a clockwise direction around the valley and lake. My first job was to get onto the open mountain on the left. I found a track that allowed access and I was off. It was calm and humid and I was soon seating as I climbed steeply upward. I chanced upon a wide waymarked trail that was heading in my preferred direction so I followed that more easily. I soon reached the wide crest that led to the first top of the day Foilastookeen at 540 metres. The ground is rough and boggy but generally the going is pretty easy. The views are extensive and I could see from the delights of Bantry Bay right across to the hills that stretch too Mushera. It was the sight of the quite nearby Knockboy that caught my eye the most. I'm not sure why, but I always had it in my head that this mountain (the highest in County Cork at 706 metres) was a rather featureless boggy dome. To my delight and surprise it revealed itself to have several impressive and rather lovely coums and as I walked along I formulated plans for future days.
By the lake at Gougane Barra


Towards Knockboy

A long boggy descent to a small little lochlan meant a long gentle ascent towards the higher ground that eventually led to Bealick at 537 metres. The cloud was increasing all the time and several squalls crossed over Knockboy. My luck had held up to now but as I reached the top I was finally enveloped in the mist and some drizzle came with it. I didn't last long and soon I was back under the cloud heading across the bog towards Coomataggard SW Top. Between the two summits of Coomataggard there was a large windfarm to the left. When the mist lowered again a couple of the nearest turbines made an eerie sight as they loomed suddenly in the mist with only the bottom of the blades cutting through the clearer air. From the summit the descent went more or less due south and it was made easier when I reached a farm track that led to a bohereen. This led all the way back to the car. I was surprised to see the volume of people and cars that milled down at the lake where parking was now at a premium. I didn't delay in getting changed and set off on the remaining journey home. I had really enjoyed my visit to the area and hopefully I will return. It had been a respectable 17 kilometres with 750 metres ascent in 4 hours 30 minutes.
There must be some rock climbing to be had there.

Almost back to the car.

Friday 3 July 2020

Falling in love again..Returning to Howling Ridge on Carrauntoohil.

Yesterday was my first chance to return to the Magillycuddy Reeks since March 15th. That was just before the lockdown and snow lay down to around 600 metres. This time the mountains looked very different, with green being the predominant colour. There was some cloud on the tops but it was light and the weather didn't hold the promise of rain. With things looking quite good I decided to have a look at Howling Ridge. I haven't done any rock climbing in recent times but  mountaineering is something I am loath to give up entirely. Howling gives a proper mountaineering outing and it rises in a series of rocky steps in an ever more spectacular setting. I must confess to having been a bit nervous about soloing the route, but I know it well and I also know that it is not too difficult.
So green. 

Howling runs pretty much on the skyline. 

I reached the notch in the ridge at the Heavenly Gates, and after a deep breath I started up. The rock had a few damp patches but it was predominantly dry and very inviting. Almost straight away I was simply enjoying the act of climbing. It was a simple pleasure to concentrate on each move and become engrossed in few metres immediately ahead. Each step passed easily enough and I was pleasantly surprised to find that I was climbing well and feeling strong. As you get higher up the route the exposure becomes ever more serious but I guess I have become inured to it over the years and it really didn't bother me a bit. There is nowhere on the route that feels desperate and on the steepest sections there are hand and foot placements in abundance. After passing "The Finger" I was faced with the final section called "The Pinnacles" which offer a few interesting sections and all too soon it is over. Nearly 200 metres of a steep slog follows before the summit cross appeared out of the fog.
Hard to capture but the drops are substantial. 


Looking down towards the finger. A wonderful section. 

As is usual, the summit of Carrauntoohil is a busy place, and  I didn't linger long after having a bite to eat. I decided  to finish my day by heading across the airy Benkeeragh Ridge, which gives an enjoyable easy scramble to the summit of Ireland's second highest mountain. As I crossed the ridge I could see a pair of climbers on my favourite route on Carrauntoohil, Curve Gully Ridge. Not having a climbing partner at the moment, and being a couple of grades harder than Howling, I haven't climbed it in a couple of years. From where I was it looks super steep and exciting. I must try to climb it again soon. As I looked across I could see people spread out either side of the cross on the summit and it bizarrely reminded me of statues standing on the roof of a basilica. Perhaps it made this my cathedral.  Anyway,  the remainder of the descent went very well. I went down over Knockbrinnea and back to Lisliebane. My poor quads knew that I hadn't done much climbing of late but it was a pure pleasure to have been back on these mountains. I hadn't realised just how much I had missed them. I found myself enraptured anew by their grandeur and beauty.



Wednesday 17 June 2020

Hiking The Duhallow Way...Over The Tops.

Heading for Claragh.
To say it has been a bizarre spring would be an understatement. Virus..Pandemic..Lockdown. Somewhat alien words that have become used every day to describe  life. When I went for a wintry outing on Carrauntoohil in the middle of March I didn't think it would be my last outing on the mountains for three months. Finally the lockdown restrictions were being eased and last weekend I jumped at the chance to return to the hills. All I had to do was decide on what to do.

Sunday June 7th;

The mountains of Kerry are still denied to me so I looked for an adventure I could have in Cork. For a few years now I have toyed with the idea of starting a big hike into the west by literally starting from my front door. To do this I could walk the 5 kilometres on the road to the trailhead of the Duhallow Way and from there the wonders of the wilds stretch all the way as far as the Atlantic Ocean. Last September I enjoyed a wonderful four day trip when I started in Millstreet and reached Knocklomeana not far from Sneem. This time I decided to finally start a trip from near home and decided on the Duhallow Way. I would hike for three days, carrying my tent and food and immerse myself in the great outdoors for the first time in a few months. I was really looking forward to it.
Heading for Bweeng Mountain.

Pretty typical walking on day 1.

 I didn't walk the kilometres on the road from home but instead Margaret dropped me at Laharn Cross where I was able to immediately leave the road and start my hike. As is my wont I tend to stray from the strict defined trail and this was no different. Instead of starting from the correct place near Bweeng, I opted instead to hike up and over the tops of the mountain and once that was done I would join the way marked trail. Starting so near to home I enjoyed a leisurely morning and didn't start my hike until 1pm. Even though the height is modest (416mtrs), Bweeng Mountain offers wonderful views, especially to the north and east. On a good clear day, everything from the Slieve Mish near Tralee right across to the Knockmealdowns can be seen. Today was one of those steely grey days when a layer of cloud seemed to leech all colour from the land. It was quite chilly as well, with a stiff breeze coming from the north. Even though I am really familiar with all the trails here abouts, I found that that didn't matter. I found that I was still enjoying myself and had that feeling of anticipation that I always get at the start of a multi day hike. There isn't a lot of climbing to do to reach the summit but there is enough to get the heart pumping. When you throw in the heavy rucksack I was soon sweating, despite the chill breeze.Once you pass the summit then it is easy to join the way-marked trail. This is mainly level as it follows forestry roads as it meanders towards the west. Now the more expansive views to the north are lost as you walk through the trees. One thing that is inescapable though is the wind turbines. Love em or hate em they are undoubtedly spectacular and for the next couple of days they provide an almost constant backdrop on the route. In the stiff breeze they were working at full tilt and in places where just the tips of the blades were visible it was something of a revelation to witness just how fast the tips of the blades traveled. It was easy to see how birds could so easily be killed by them. Another thing that was apparent was that they are not really all that silent. There is a constant thrum of noise in the background and the odd time there is what I can only describe as a muffled mechanical roar. All that said, in the main I found them to be a spectacular backdrop but my mixed feelings remain.
Nice to be out on open ground

Wind turbines are never far away.

After several kilometres the trail leaves the forest and crosses open bog where turf cutting is still practiced. Not the old style manual work of many years ago but the mechanical style, where large hoppers of peat are gouged out and this is spread in long sausage like rows. People then allow it to dry a little, before "footing it" (basically building a stack), dry out much more, before loading it up and taking it home to fuel the fires for the winter. At one stage the trail went through a section of bog that I had last been in some 45 years before, when I used to accompany my father as harvested the peat "old school". It was a surreal and nostalgic experience as I walk close to the actual "banks" where we toiled long ago. This area hadn't seen any turf cutting for decades and it was great to see how much the bog had recovered. It was no longer easy to see where the turf had been cut and heather covered the ground. It all added to the experience of the day and I was really enjoying my outing. I had been on the go by now for over four hours and my mind was turning towards where I would camp for the night. I decided to head as far as Mushera mountain, to a place where I knew there was a water source. It was still a fair way ahead so I pressed on. After passing through some more forestry and open bog you reach another windfarm and shortly after this I left the waymarked trail for a while. I guess the way was diverted when they started building the windfarm but it is still possible to follow the original route that passed by Seefin mountain. This I did and it saves a couple of kilometres on the road. Once you reach the road at the top of the pass, the trail continues onto the slopes of Mushera, literally just the other side.

Home on night 1
Earlier it had been pleasantly warm when the sun emerged so I had taken off my jacket and walked with just a thin baselayer on. If truth be told it was chilly more often than not, but I was loath to stop and retrieve the jacket and I reasoned that once I kept moving I would be comfortable enough. This proved to be the case but by now I was up at nearly 500mtrs and the breeze was strong and unrelenting. I wasn't far from where I would camp so I still resisted the urge to get my jacket. I reached the top of the gully where I hoped to get water, but I had to lose 50 metres in height before I reached it as the spring had been very dry. I filled up my bottles and while the bag was off my back I donned my jacket. Oh my but what a relief the surge in heat was. I hadn't quite realized just how chilled I had become. I climbed back up to the saddle and set off to find a spot for the tent. On the saddle itself the wind was strong so I went a few hundred metres to the leeward side and soon found a suitable spot. Finally, nearly 6.5 hours after setting off I was able to take shelter in my tent and set about making dinner. I settled down to relax for what remained of the evening before finally settling down to sleep.

It had been a fine start to the trip and I had covered 26.5 kilometres, climbed 800 metres in 6.5 hours.

Monday June 8th;

Last nights camp hadn't been entirely successful. As the great Gorge W Bush once said "I misunderestinated" how chilly it would get in the night. Once again I brought my 1 season sleeping bag and it didn't quite live up to the task. For the sake of a couple of hundred grams my down bag would have been so much better. The breeze had died during the night and I emerged to a cool, steely grey morning. I wasn't in any great rush and I relaxed and enjoyed a nice warming brew after some muesli before finally shifting myself and getting on the move by 9am. It is still a thrill to start a new day on a hike and after leaving no trace, just head off on an adventure new. It was less than a two hundred metre climb to reach the broad summit of Mushera at 644mtrs. I had no delusions about hiking in a baselayer this morning and I was certainly glad of the protection of my down jacket as I stood and admired the extensive views. This is a summit I often visit when the weather is wild and stormy. It is relatively safe due to the rock free nature of the terrain, but it is high enough and bleak enough to provide an exhilarating experience at those times. It wasn't that bad this morning though and I enjoyed a brief rest before setting off down to the road head some 260 metres lower down. At  the road I once again rejoined the Duhallow Way and I followed the markers all the way to Claragh Mountain.

Caherbarna is a long way away from the summit of Mushera.

Claragh beyond the forestry. 10 Kilometres on the road.

I love visiting these ancient monuments. Stone circle and standing stone en-route.
I must say I wasn't really looking forward to this section as it entailed over 10 kilometres on tarmac. I found however that the majority of this is on pretty, quiet, empty country lanes that provided stress free, easy walking. I was enjoying the mix of agricultural and forest views and all in all it was better than I expected. That is until after maybe 8 kilometres I started to get some pain above both ankles and I guess that this was caused by wearing B1 mountain boots. A softer, more flexible boot would have been easier. Things weren't helped either by the fact that once I reached the busy main road near Millstreet I missed the turn off for the trail and an unnecessary 2 kilometres was endured, just where it was least pleasant. When I did find the right trail I was pleased to find that it rose gently through pastures full of swooping swallows and ewes and their lambs. It was by now pleasantly warm in these more sheltered environs and I basked in warm sun and enjoyed a bite to eat. Once past the derelict Mount Leader house I once again reached familiar ground as I started the climb of Claragh Mountain. I followed the "Way" for a while before once again deviating and heading for the modest but handsome summit. I would recommend that everybody who does the Duhallow Way include this top in their outing as it is a simple thing to rejoin the route from the top.
Mount Leader House

From the top I decided to continue along to the saddle between Claragh and Curracahill and I would head as far as Caherbarna before I would camp for the evening. I have done this hike several times before and I knew that is a long slog over rough ground, so I knew that I still had plenty of work to do. I had been moving for over 5 hours by now and my ankles were quite painful so I pressed on and looked forward to reaching a place where I could put up my tent and let my ankles recover. I decided that I would continue over Caherbarna and descend to the gap between the northwest top and Knocknabro where I knew there was a fine spot to camp. On reaching the top of Curracahill there follows a rough traverse above the rough glen that holds Kippagh Lough. It is tempting to try and shorten the journey by cutting across the upper edges of the glen but this leads to torturous rough ground. It is better to stay high and walk the long way around until you reach the lower slopes of the ridge that eventually leads to Caherbarna. Up here the breeze was getting stronger and the sun had once again retreated behind a veil of cloud so the temperatures dropped. The views were still lovely and as you rise to up over 2000 feet the drop to the north gets steeper and steeper. To the south a large windfarm stretches away all the way to Mullaghanish which is topped by its giant communication mast. I was fairly tired by the time I eventually reached the top of Caherbarna but I was also buoyed by the fact I knew I didn't have too far to go. I crossed to the northwest top and descended the easy ground to the saddle. I found my camping spot and soon had my home up for the night. A very pleasant evening morphed into night and I slept well.
From Claragh there is still a ways to go.

Lough Kippagh. Don't be tempted by the shortcut

More turbines and Mullaghanish with its 225 metre mast.

Tomorrows destination..The Paps

Home for night 2


30 kilometres in 8hours 15 minutes with 1100 metres ascent.

Tuesday June 9th;

Today was the final day of the trip. There wasn't any breeze this morning and the first thing I noticed when I exited the tent was the unwelcome attentions of midges. It wasn't warm but they were still around in numbers so I stayed in my tent while I had breakfast and once I was packed up and on the move they bothered me no more. I was heading as far as The Paps today and I would then walk as far as the village of Rathmore where I would either catch a train to nearer home or Margaret would collect me. I was on the move at 7am and once again the only company I had was the wonderful song of the skylarks. Even though you are not too far from civilization on these hills you are still removed from it. There is a delicious wild feel to the place and the chances are that you will have it all to yourself. The going is pretty easy all the was to the pass under the Paps, where at the rough road that cuts through the pass I reached the end of the Duhallow Way. Next up comes the steep and unrelenting 400 metre climb to the top of the East Pap. There was nothing for it but put the head down and keep putting one foot in front of the other and it eventually passed. The nature of the day seemed to be changing. The stiff chilly breeze also brought the odd drop of rain. I hoped that it would hold off for a while yet. These hills offer a wonderful viewpoint, especially the west top which was next on the agenda. I wasted no time in setting off for it and once there I wasted no time in beginning my descent. There was a train at 12 noon so I decided to try and make that. It always comes as a surprise just how much warmer it gets when you return to the low ground. Not only is the breeze lighter but the temps are better. Today once I reached the road the sun also made an appearance and it was positively balmy. I quickly realized that it would have been a real race to try and get the train so I rang home and Margaret agreed to collect me. It made the 10 kilometres walk on the road more enjoyable. Mind you it is still 10 kilometres on tarmac and once again my feet were tired by the time I reached the village. It had been wonderful to return to the hills.
Nearing The Paps with the Reeks rising beyond

Summit cairn

Shrone Lake

The way way back. Nothing too spectacular but definitely wild.



18 kilometres in 5 hours 20 minutes with 750 metres ascent.