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Carrauntoolhil
 

The mobile phone was answered and sure, they’d be here at the start point in Hags Glen in ten minutes. Good, that would allow us to get booted and spurred. Mark Troy had arrived a short time before, true to his word as ever, having driven over that morning from near Cork. So, in about ten minutes Mike and Joe from the Kerry Mountain Rescue Team duly arrived and we were all soon on our way, on a glorious sunny day, to make our summit for 1330, the communications rendezvous time for all 5 summits.

The idea had come months before when Pete McGowan and I had wondered how RAFMRA could celebrate that famous moment in 1953, when Tenzing and Hillary stepped onto the summit of Everest. Pete suggested the Ben, Scafell and Snowdon and then I thought it would be a good idea to add Slieve Donard and Carrauntoohil, as such a project would seem incomplete without them. Not having been on the hill in Ireland before, and knowing Mark and Irene would have the home fires burning, these alone were good enough reasons to go. Good friend Bill Gault said that he’d like to go and offered his son Ewan’s company, his car for transport and accommodation in Dublin with Kenneth - there was definitely no stopping us now! To put the icing on the cake, Mark was going to come, Derek and Malcolm from Dublin were to join us, and Mike Sandover from Kerry MRT said he would come along, maybe with others.

Carrauntoohil, or Corrán Tuathail, at 3,414 feet / 1039 metres, is the highest point in Ireland. It is a distinctive mountain with a character that’s different from any mountain in Scotland, England or Wales that I know of. Compared with the easy tourist routes up the Ben, Scafell or Snowdon, it takes the prize for having the most difficult ‘easy’ route to the summit.

 

Key mountains in Ireland; amongst them, Bob Stevenson’s Slieve Donard and our Carrauntoohil

 

Carrauntoohil

Derek Keegan, somewhat regretfully, had called in the day before to say that business had intervened and he and Malcolm were tied up with work commitments. It was a pity, because Derek and I had both joined MR at Valley in 1968 and it would have made another pleasant reunion. So it was that Bill and Ewan, Mark, Mike and Joe from Kerry MRT and ‘hirpler’ me went off up the path. ‘Hirpler?’ Well yes, because of a knee injury sustained the previous day when I opened my big mouth to dispense a snippet o’ gen (piece of information, in RAF MR-speak) to Ewan about how the edge of a sunken stream was often the driest place to cross a boggy bit on the hill. Standing on the bank of said stream, it gave way, allowing one leg access to the bottom, but barring progress for the other. Result? A twist, a crack, a yelp, and my best knee wasn’t my best knee any more. Ever thought you wished you’d kept your big mouth shut? Next morning, getting out of bed, I’d have given about 2% for my chances of getting up the hill, but like all these things, once embarked upon, they’re not that bad. Oh, all right, I’ll come clean about the other thing – it’ll come out anyway; Bill carried my day-bag up the hill, with the bottle of wine and all the rest of my rubbish in it. Will I ever live it down? The knee was a bit ‘sair’ to start with and the only thing on the approach walk that I can remember was crossing the swift burn when ‘Max’, Mike’s dog (a really good MR troop’s hill dog, we all agreed) stepped in front of me and nearly tripped me up – to be pushed into balance by Mark at the price of his wet feet. Attention was recaptured when the stony path was exchanged for the hill, proper. We were to go up Brother O’Shea’s gully and return by Heaven’s Gate – didn’t really deserve it, but if it had to be, I was pleased it was that one and not the other! On the way up the interesting route, Mike pointed out the carnivorous, insect-eating Greater Butterwort that ate small insects (and Leprechauns?). Then, from left to right; Howling Ridge, Primrose Ridge and Hag’s Tooth Ridge. We saw the highest lake (was told off for calling it a ‘lochan’) in Ireland and Max gambolled in its cooling, crystal-clear water.

 

 

The Kerry Krew: Joe, Ewan, Mark and Mike with Bill sitting down, (post exertions with my bag). Yes, I was the one taking the photo!

 

Good snippets and stories abounded; amongst them was the story of the sad demise of Brother O’Shea and reports of incidents that had occurred in the winter in these impressive surroundings. It was easy to see that in the winter, particularly at night, this was no place for the neophyte mountaineer. So onward and upward, with the odd quotation like Pat Donovan’s favourite in the late 60s (Valley). “See yonder peak, ‘tis far away, and bidden comes the word “Impossible”. ‘Not so!, says the mountaineer”. And, “To rest is not to conquer”, etc., etc.

We arrived on the ridge and bowled or hirpled our way up to the summit with plenty of time to spare for the mobile phone ‘schedule’. Bob Stevenson was contacted when about 150 feet below the summit of Slieve Donard in Northern Ireland and Ron Cameron, who’d sprinted ahead to get to the top of Scafell on time, was there, too. A few disjointed calls later and Ed Roberts from Stafford MRT reported from the summit of Snowdon and Don Shanks completed the ‘net’ from the ‘Big Bad Ben’ (Nevis). They all have their stories to tell and I won’t presume to tell them on their behalf. Ron and Pete’s is already on the site and Bob, Ed and Don will tell theirs presently. Our wine was broached ---- Oh ye of little faith, they didn’t think the corkscrew was in my bag. Didn’t they realise that I wouldn’t forget a heavy metal object like that - if Bill was carrying it. Anyway, the red wine was a robust (topping?) little number, we agreed; worth carrying up. Summit photos were taken, in true Tenzing/Hillary style, and then it was time for the off. Mike and Joe had another interesting little route in hand for us, called “Heaven’s Gate”. It was quite steep, kept us interested and provided excellent views. We completed our convivial and most enjoyable day in glorious, hot sunshine.

Mike had come straight off night duty to climb the hill, a generous and friendly gesture.
After refreshment in the famous Kate Kearney’s Cottage, Mark, Mike and Joe took their leave of a very grateful trio from Scotland. We later had a grand night with Joe and the rest of the team in Killarney; they were having their social reward after this particular week’s climbing training at the Gap of Dunloe.

 

 

Kate Kearney’s Cottage, as it was then

 

As it is now

We had a great time in Ireland. The Dublin Tour buses are a good introduction to the city. Bill’s wife Roberta had recommended it and she was spot on. The tour guides provide a fascinating variety of information and entertainment. Besides the friendly reception we received everywhere, some of the things that struck us about Ireland were:
There seem to be few high tension overhead cables and unsightly pylons. Maybe they’ve perfected stealth pylons, but we certainly didn’t see many and the countryside benefits. Lay-bys and road-side parking places are almost non-existent. The houses look very smart and newly painted. The country and people appear to be quite prosperous and hard-working. The per-capita JCB population must be the highest in Europe. There is very little litter. Bed and Breakfast facilities, judging by the two where we stayed, are of a high standard, with very friendly and attentive hosts/hostesses. The sea on the Dingle Peninsula is warmer than the Moray Firth. Ewan and Bill had a good swim.

Bill, Ewan and I would like to convey our thanks to Mark and Irene near Cork for their hospitality, fun conversation and ‘man-sized’ tasty breakfast at their farmhouse; and to Kenneth in Dublin for his carefully crafted, delicious meals.

To the other participants in our celebration, many thanks for your sterling support. I hope you had a memorable day and enjoyed yourselves as much as we did.

May I conclude by saying a special ‘Thank you’ to Bill and Ewan for their company, generosity and forbearance during an unforgettable week.

Tom

PS. I opened my bag on the hill last weekend and investigated a lumpy bit. It was the empty wine bottle. The corkscrew was still there, too!

 

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