The Rossendale Rambler

Following a very successful week in Scotland last year, Richard chose Ireland this time, County Kerry. By the time we all set off, the total travelling was 14, in four cars.

The journey was overnight, long and tiring and we were all glad to get to our destination- Cahirciveen, a small town on the western tip of the Iveragh Peninsular. We were all looking forward to the week ahead.

The first day did not start well with heavy rain and strong winds as we set off for the first of two walks that day. We were hoping to climb Cloonaghlin via a sharp climb to the ridge and then along to the summit. In heavy rain we managed the first part but once on the ridge, the wind was horrific. We struggled on towards the top but after a short while the walk was called off and we retired to the Inny Tavern. The afternoon strand walk proved better in that the rain had stopped and we were able to be blow-dried by the continuing strong wind. The scenery along the Atlantic coast was stunning. The evening was convivial with much whisky in evidence.

The rain was threatening on the second day which was to be a wilderness experience along the Coomaroher loughs and then an ascent of Knocknagantee. By the time we were at the start, the rain was thundering down and the wind was at gale force. We made our way, ever upwards, past successive loughs, sometimes following the edge, sometimes clinging precariously to precipitous, boggy slopes. At the head of the valley was a massive rocky amphitheatre which had to be scaled. Hugh and I turned back but the rest climbed to the exposed ridge but were then forced back down to the starting point. Poor Alan took a bad fall on the way down and had to be taken to Tralee Hospital for an X-ray - no more walking for him!

Day four proved much better but I had become somewhat depressed and decided to keep Alan company. The others had a wonderful coastal walk along high, windswept cliffs all in brilliant sunshine to the most westerly point in Europe, Bray Head. See the poem "On Bray Head, Valentia" in this issue. I was sorry I missed it but my own day had been successful - I had shaken off my melancholy.

The walk along the Kerry Way was chosen, again, because the weather was not expected to be good. In the event we had only a little rain and the day was spent following an undulating ridge at the start and then dropping down to a flat plain where turf cutting seemed the prevailing occupation. We saw much of this during the week. Having crossed the plain, we once more climbed the far end of the same ridge we started off on, back to the point where we joined it initially. A decent days walk which Reg, unfortunately had to pass up because he hurt his back whilst putting on his gaiters!

The next day was also fair and though we did experience a slight shower, the coastal walk to Doulus Head via a nice little cloud-shrouded hill was very pleasant. After mid-day the cloud lifted and sunshine began to brighten our lives. We visited and explored two ancient forts on the way back to the cars. A good day.

The last day and at last the weather was good enough to tackle Carauntoohil at 3400 ft, the highest mountain in Ireland. Our route was to be the entire horseshoe of around eight miles and taking in the arete between Beenkeragh and Carauntoohil itself. From there we would drop slightly before climbing to the twin tops of Caher followed by the long descent to ground-level.

As we climbed from the Landrover track towards the first ridge, the clouds receded to reveal more and more of the way ahead and the valley below. It was stunning as we passed the tops of Scregmore, Stumpa Barr and then Beenkeragh. As we advanced the cloud continued to give way to us until we reached the top of the arete. There the cloud remained, teasing us with sly glimpses of the stony path ahead. We decided to eat and as we did, the clouds lifted, leaving us on a high pinnacle with yawning chasms in three directions. The arete dropped down some 200 metres at its lowest point and then rose steeply to the summit of Carauntoohil, with it’s summit cross of iron, clearly visible from where we were. The arete had several peaks of its own, each would be climbed as we progressed. Very exiting!

The summit of Carauntoohil brought forth Oohs and Ahhs and we got ourselves photographed by one of the many people up there on this bright, sunny day. The views were mind-blowing and whilst Richard described it as a rugged little circuit, the rest of us thought it was the finest walk we had ever done together. This last day had made the week and as we came down from Caher we were filled with the contentment and satisfaction a good holiday brings.

The photo below, taken by Sheila Goggins, is of Richard Sumner our leader for the week, on Bray Head.

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