The Maumturks

Friday 28th March 2008

This was the last walk of my week's holiday in Ireland and although I had planned on having easier an walk than the day before it proved to be really challenging in exceptionally difficult weather conditions. I parked in the valley beside the Maumturks (a mountain range next to the Twelve Bens) and walked up to the Maumeen Chapel and Holy Well, in the col between Binn Mhór and Binn Chaonaigh. This was an awesome place that filled me with many thoughts: I’m not Catholic, in fact I’m resolutely Protestant brought up to distrust anything Catholic, but there was so much obvious reverence about the site that even I was overcome. The Holy Well itself was an eerie place where a number of trinkets had been left by pilgrims, which reflected their sincere devotion and added an aura to the place that was enough to make even the fiercest Protestant such as myself cross himself in respect. Silly really as it’s only a tiny well. There are also 14 crosses arranged around the place all facing the chapel and each representing one of the Stations of the Cross, which I thought were quite good and even as a Protestant I could see real value in them. One can go from station to station thinking upon the events depicted from the crucifixion story and remember the sacrifice that Christ made for us all, and worship God through it; it's just a pity they missed out the last and most important part of the story: the Resurrection.

Tearing myself away I climbed the hillside towards Binn Chaonaigh following a fence on a faint path. This was an enjoyable ascent as it combined grass and rock with a lot of variations that reminded me of the climb over Grey Knotts from Honister Hause in the Lakes. Eventually the gradient levelled off and I was confronted by a series of bogs and snow as it started snowing heavily while approaching the summit and the snow would continue for the next couple of hours, fortunately it wasn't settling too much. Once at the summit of Ben Chaonaigh I proceeded to negotiate the route down to the col and up to the long ridge on Barrslievenaroy with its many false tops all in very cold driving snow and hail. Before starting this walk I noticed a comment in the guide book that it would not be advisable to do this walk in mist because of the complex terrain. How about mist, snow and strong winds? With my GPS in hand all the way I negotiated the complex terrain and successfully arrived at the summit of Barrslievenaroy (the highest point in the Maumturks) and with the snow continuing to fall heavily I had my lunch.

As I left the summit the snow finally stopped and I was rewarded with some views of the hills I had just walked over, so now I knew what they looked like! Coming down from the top I had immense difficulty finding my way even though the weather was now clearing. It is funny how I had more problems once the weather cleared than when it was terrible. I was making a direct course for the col and, of course, ended up at the top of a cliff face. Now it wasn’t a high cliff and I could have easily climbed down it if I had a better head for heights, but after throwing my walking pole down to the bottom I suddenly thought, no, there has to be an easier way down, so I climbed back up to the top and started looking for a better route down, but I couldn’t find one. As I was being buffeted by the strong wind, at one point actually being blown over, I slammed my hand down on the rocks repeatedly crying out, “You bastard, let me off this mountain.” Apologies to God or whoever I thought I was crying out to, but I was soon thanking God for as soon as I looked up I saw a faint path that led all the way down to the bottom.

Unfortunately my walking pole was still near the top underneath the cliff so I had to climb all the way up to the top of a huge bank of scree to look for it and was soon beginning to wonder whether my walking pole was worth all that effort to retrieve it. On a number of occasions during the week I had become frustrated with it as it was often getting in my way. I had brought it with me to help while going across boggy ground, and it was certainly a handy third leg in those situations, but when I needed my hands, which was frequently necessary on the rocky ground, it just got in the way. Instead of giving me an extra leg it removed one of my hands, so I would often in those situation let the pole hang from my wrist or even throw it down ahead of me as I did while climbing down the gully on Ben Gower a couple of days earlier. Unfortunately on this walk I did the same thing, which required an exhausting climb to retrieve it; I was really annoyed with myself for throwing the pole down and strongly tempted to abandon it after all the trouble it had given me.

Eventually I managed to locate my pole with the help of my GPS device and made my way down to the col, Maumahoge, where I said goodbye to the mountains even as the sun came out to reveal the stunning spectacle all around me. Descending steeply over grass I dropped down into the valley and traversed the water-logged grass plain as I made my way to the road. It was astonishing just how much rain had fallen during the week and how soaked was the ground as a result. In places you couldn't keep a grip because there was so much water in it, so that even though it may look stable it was quickly revealed to be anything but and I would almost fall over. The walk was completed by an easy and relaxing stroll along the road, and so that completed my week in Ireland, which I had enjoyed but it had been a very challenging and tiring week. These are all great mountains that even in the best of conditions are tricky, but I did not have good weather. I wonder what the week would have been like with better conditions. Would I have got to do more? One can only wonder.

The Twelve Bens

Thursday 27th March

This was a big walk that encompassed many of the mountains that make up this stunning area, however as it turned out it was a walk with two very different halves. Starting once again from the hostel I walked back into Glencoaghan and climbed up the southern flanks of Derryclare in gorgeous sunshine. I couldn't believe my luck after the bad weather I had endured over the last couple of days, I was finally getting some fantastic weather and it was perfect timing for another attempt at the Twelve Bens. Once I had eventually climbed up to the top of Derryclare I traversed the immensely complex, rocky landscape over to Bencorr where I was confronted by astonishing and awesome scenery in all directions and all bathed in bright sunshine. The subsequent descent to the narrow Mán na bhFonsai (this is most probably the Devil’s Col I had read about) was really tricky and steep, and from above looked nigh on impossible. Fortunately there were a series of ledges that were relatively easy to descend so I managed to reach the bottom without too much difficulty.

The ascent to the top of Bencollaghduff was rocky and prolonged but, in this area, surprisingly straightforward, however the weather was gradually turning bad and by the time I reached the summit it was overcast, cold and windy. After lunch at the summit I walked down to the col that I had visited the day before. The Glencoaghan Horseshoe continues over Benbreen and Bengower, and is a serious mountain walk whoever you are, and whatever the weather. It is easily the best mountain walk in Ireland, but I must admit I was getting a bit fed up with the endlessly complex rocky terrain. Since I had already been over the remaining hills of the horseshoe I crossed over to the Maumina col and struggled up to the top of Benbaun in the increasingly windy conditions. Benbaun is the highest hill in the Twelve Bens but apart from at the summit it is much depleted in rock compared with the previous hills, and in fact all my remaining hills were disappointingly grassy.

Descending over Benfree I seriously considered abandoning the walk as the next two hills, Muckanaught and Bencullagh, were insignificant grassy mounds compared with the mountains I had been up earlier. It was getting very windy and very cold, and I was getting  tired, but the route I had been following as prescribed by Paddy Dillon in “The Mountains of Ireland” directed me over these two, though the only reason I believe they had been added was because they were over 2000 feet rather than on merit. Eventually I did go over them but it was a struggle, and one I will not forgive the guidebook writer as it left me with a very long and boggy descent through grassy sheep country. This was a terrible way to end a great walk as I had to cross a least a mile of grassy fields to a wood, where I had a boggy walk beside the wood for a while, and then once I was at the road I had to walk for a lots of miles back to the hostel. To be fair to the guidebook writer I had not been correctly following his advice. I didn’t realize this at the time – I should have read his guide a little more closely before undertaking the walk – the recommended route was to descend south beside a stream to a wood at the junction with the Owengin River, then I was to take a ‘good track’ through the wood to the road. If only I had gone that way, as when I reached the road it started raining so I had a very wet end to what had started out as being a very sunny walk across some quite delectable mountains.

Bengower & Ben breen

Wednesday 26th March 2008

On this walk I saw the best of the Twelve Bens and the worst, with some really amazing scenery and terrain, and some of the worst weather I have ever seen on a mountain. The walk started from the youth hostel as I climbed the unrelenting slopes of Benlettery, zigzagging up the hillside, picking my own route as there are no footpaths to speak of on these mountains. The weather, in fact, started quite well, but soon it deteriorated with a bit of sleet, snow and hail; I was exposed to all sorts of weather on this holiday that gave me a real trial of my hill walking skills. However, when the weather was good I saw some amazing views such as on this walk during the ascent of Benlettery. The Twelve Bens themselves were hidden behind the hill, but the views south to the sea across the Roundstone Blanket Bog was astounding, like nothing I have seen before; it looked like hundreds of small lakes stretching across the landscape. By the time I had reached the summit the bad weather had cleared, which was a pattern that would be repeated throughout the day. Leaving Benlettery I walked across fantastically rocky ground to Bengower, almost wetting myself with enthusiasm for the rugged terrain under my feet and the views ahead of more mountains to come. My day was still going well when I reached the top of Bengower, the weather was good, the views were fantastic and the challenges ahead seemed exciting, but then my problems began.

The route I picked to go down to the col was terrible, involving a tough scramble down a steep gully where I ripped my new waterproof trousers; it was a horrible experience. I had to lower myself carefully, terrifyingly all the way down, throwing my walking pole down ahead of me to stop it getting in the way. I remember reading in the youth hostel a description of the walk around the Twelve Bens that mentioned a Devil’s Col, I’m not sure where that is, but in my mind it is definitely the col between Bengower and Benbreen. When I reached the bottom of the col the weather turned nasty again so my climb up the scree slope to the top of Benbreen was really horrible with strong winds and hail, but thankfully I eventually reached the summit where once again the sun came out. The Twelve Bens are amazing mountains with really changeable weather, but the complex, rugged terrain was taking me a long time to walk over and I was beginning to get worried about my slow progress. Even though it was already lunchtime, since the weather was good I continued along the ridge over the central top, but on reaching the final top of Benbreen the weather turned nasty again as the clouds closed in once more, so I decided it was now time to have my lunch.

During lunch I seriously considered abandoning the walk: the weather was becoming too inhospitable and my slow progress was making my planned route seemingly too ambitious, and also because my right ankle had started hurting. As I left my lunch spot the weather decided to answer the question for me by starting to snow heavily. With low cloud, strong winds and on this really complex terrain snow was the last thing I wanted so I decided to get down off the mountain, but in these conditions that was not going to be easy. Utilising all my navigational skills (and the GPS) I eventually made it down to the col where I dropped down south east into Glencoaghan. Progress along this valley was very slow due to boggy conditions, but after a long walkout I eventually reached the road, successfully avoiding the farmer. More rain welcomed me as I walked along the road back to the youth hostel. Sometimes you have a fantastic day on a mountain and sometimes the mountain bites back. I was defeated by the weather on this walk and I just couldn’t continue with weather like that. It would have been dangerous, it wouldn’t have been enjoyable and it would have taken me ages to complete the walk (and let’s not forget also that my ankle was giving me problems). The scenery when the sun was out was simply amazing; this is a stunning area, but it is difficult terrain to walk over, especially down the northern side of Ben Gower. I don’t know what is the correct route down, but I’m sure I didn’t take it.

Ben Gorm & Ben Creggan

Tuesday 25th March 2008

When I got up this morning it was pouring with rain once again so it was with some frustration that I left Sleepzone Connemara for the last time and returned to the small car park above Tawnyard Lough. After the wash-out of the day before I was not looking forward to a repeat performance, especially on two of Ireland’s finest mountains, nevertheless I set off in the rain, descending through the wood and across the river along the course of the Western Way. When the track began to cross the low ridge opposite I climbed over the fence and started walking along the ridge towards Ben Gorm, 6 kilometres away. The ridge was very muddy with a lot of surface water due to the recent abundant rain, but the mud was firm underneath and I was able to walk over it without much difficulty (though my boots and trousers took a real hammering). Soon after reaching the ridge the rain stopped and, would you credit it, the sun came out, so maybe someone likes me after all! Hoping the weather would stay like this I climbed the never-ending ridge onto rockier ground and as the ridge narrowed I enjoyed every moment of the climb, even when an occasional rain shower passed over. Eventually I reached the summit of Ben Gorm where I had my lunch while admiring the fantastic views of the neighbouring hills and Killary Harbour with the Twelve Bens in the distance. I was astonished and relieved that a potentially disastrous day had become such a perfect one.

Crossing the col, I descended and ascended the steep slopes onto Ben Creggan's south top, and then over to the main top, which required even steeper descents and ascents, until eventually I reached the top of the highest rated mountain in Ireland. The Mountainviews.ie website has a list of the best rated mountains in Ireland, and it places Ben Creggan at number one with a 99% rating (at time of writing). This made me look at the mountain rather critically to decide whether I also thought it deserved this accolade, and I’m not sure that it does, in my opinion. The mountain was certainly very rugged with abundant rock and steep cliffs, but it seemed to be too small to me, in bulk and area, I don’t mean height. Ben Creggan was a good mountain with some fantastic features, but if I didn’t consider it one of the best, which mountains would I rank highly?

Walks that I have really enjoyed, that I often remember, include my walk across the Grey Corries in summer ’06; that was an unforgettable walk over tremendous terrain in fantastic weather, and I’m sure other mountains in Scotland would also vie for consideration. Somewhere near the top of my list would have to be Snowdon because it is such a fantastic mountain with so many different ways up, you can go up a different way each time and I have been there so many times. Some of its features, especially Crib Goch have got to rank as some of the best in the country. But we mustn’t forget the Lake District, surely some of the Lakeland Fells are strong contenders, such as the Crinkle Crags, Bow Fell or Scafell Pike (it is not a coincidence that these fells are all in upper Eskdale as I love that whole area, it’s my favourite in the Lake District). I cannot possibly name my single favourite mountain ever, but those above might be in the list, or others.

Leaving the summit of Ben Creggan I began a glorious descent down the wonderfully rocky eastern ridge and I was having great fun hopping from one boulder to another while exploring every nook and cranny (and a fascinating fissure in the rocks). Descents are always more fun than ascents, but this one was extra special, unfortunately it deteriorated near the end as mud began to predominate over rock and forced my boots to earn their keep again. At the bottom I had a tricky crossing to the road that required I climb over several fences, jump over several streams and walk through several farmers’ fields. You have got to love Ireland; if this were England there would be clear footpaths leading to and from the ridge, but here I barely saw any sign all day that anyone else had ever been over these mountains, and I certainly never saw anyone else all day. This was a great walk over great mountains; I was fortunate the weather held off long enough for me to enjoy it as while I was returning along the road to the car it started raining again. I now moved over to the Ben Lettery Youth Hostel and that was for just one thing: the Twelve Bens.

The Sheeffry Hills

Monday 24th March 2008

The weather on this walk unfortunately was not very good with low cloud, strong winds on the higher ground and regular rain showers. It was not the sort of day to be out walking up a mountain, unfortunately that is what I was there for. So first thing in the morning I set off to and parked at Tawnyard Lough. With a grim face I set off up the road and within a couple of hundred metres I turned around and went back to the car. The weather was so bad I decided that the walk I had planned along the full length of the Sheeffry Hills was just too ambitious in this inhospitable weather. When the weather is like this, if you have to do a walk, you don’t want to do a complicated one, you want a straight forward up and down, nothing fancy. You go up to the summit by the most easily navigable route and then come straight back down. After much debate about what to do instead, including seriously considering going up Devilsmother (seriously, that was the name of a local mountain), I eventually parked near where I’d parked the day before and made an ascent of Barrclashcame, which is the western most top in the Sheeffry Hills and coincidently also the highest. I climbed up onto a low ridge near the road and followed it up as it climbs ever steeper onto Barrclashcame’s north-western ridge, plunging into clouds when the gradient became very steep and into strong winds.

When I eventually reached the top of the ridge, at Barrclashcame’s 580m north-western top, the weather was so bad with rain and very strong winds, that I had to put on a second cagoule (!). Battling against the elements, I made my way along the ridge and up to the summit plateau, where I eventually found the summit cairn of Barrclashcame. The conditions were really terrible so any thoughts of traversing the summit ridge to the centre top of the Sheeffry Hills, Tievummera, which sports a trig point was never seriously considered. I had lunch sheltered below the southern slope, but I didn't want to stop for long so I quickly reversed my steps using my GPS, or at least that was the plan, but the GPS was acting crazy and giving me wildly varying positions and messy tracklogs. I guess the bad weather was playing havoc with the reception. Somehow, I found my way off the summit plateau and walking back along the ridge I reached the north-western top, where I thankfully descended away from the strong winds. The descent was just as steep as the ascent had been, but eventually I emerged out of the clouds with the spur ridge clear below me that led back to the car. At this point the weather cleared up a bit, which provided me with an enjoyable descent along the ridge and good views across Doo Lough, but it didn't last and soon it started raining again. I’ve got to say that was a tricky walk! The weather conditions at the top were really bad, mainly due to the wind. Rain and the cold can be easily deal with, but there is nothing that can be done against strong winds except battle against it. I was hoping that the weather would improve but it never did (in fact it did get better, but only once I was back at the youth hostel). This was not a great walk by any standard but I don’t think the Sheeffry Hills are that great, despite being right next to mountains that are. Their views are perhaps their only advantage, unfortunately.