Survivor Paddy 3

Lough Corrib

Text // Michael , Video // Derek

May bank holiday weekend 2012

While planning Survivor Paddy for this year, it became clearer that we were going to do something different than the past few years of hiking. After discounting Inis Shark island off Inis Boffin in the Atlantic Ocean due to a lack of firewood, we finally settled on a three-dayer camping and ‘surviving’ expedition to Inchagoill island in Lough Corrib.This island, steeped in ancient history, has been completely uninhabited since the late 1940s (http://tinyurl.com/jb8wuls). It is covered in a thick deciduous forest. This gives Inchagoill a primordial feel which is enhanced by the diminutive, ancient monastic ruins at its centre. These ruins date back to the 5th Century AD.  A small trail leads through the forest, largely following the shoreline of the island and the sense of wilderness there is strong. For this year, we decided that only minimal food supplies could be brought along in anticipation of our fly-fishing skills landing a few wild brown trout to cook up each night for dinner.  On the Friday afternoon, the group were periodically ferried across from the mainland 7 km away through choppy waters and a strong lake wind. The advance party located a nice secluded campsite in a clearing on the north-west shore of the island. Here, our two boats could be safely anchored when not needed, at a small, sandy and sheltered inlet adjoining our camp. 

The first night was fairly cold with temperatures falling just below zero. This was likely more hard on the two of us sleeping in improvised hammocks. On the next morning our attention was turned to setting up a more comfortable and functional camp. While some of us collected firewood, built a wicker-like partition around the camp and explored the island wilderness, others took to the lake to try and catch some wild fish for the evening’s feast ahead. 
The seven brown trout caught during the day were loosely marinated in some scavenged herbs and baked in the embers of the fire for dinner. On the second eve we enjoyed the same again, only this time we had an accompaniment of nettle stew and more surprisingly, some improvised toffee for dessert. This was made from melting left-over sugar on the hot stones by the fire.  The elusive pheasant, which some of us had spotted roaming the island, unfortunately, did not make the menu despite our best efforts. 

After a campfire dinner on the second eve, it was announced by Benny, unbeknown to the rest of us, that a treasure hunt had been arranged. This impromptu event, resulted in two slightly drunken and well-fed groups hectically traversing the four corners of the island in an attempt to solve the clues given. The prize was to win some otherwise prohibited chocolate-based contraband. Plenty of craic and madness ensured and we all eventually made it back to camp to spend the rest of the eve by the fire. Later on, through the darkness, we took a more subdued hike to pay our homage to those ancient souls buried at the monastic ruins and contemplate their existence on the island.  This was followed by a more jovial gathering at the beach on the western shore to see the night out.

There was a slightly melancholy atmosphere on the Monday morning as we packed up after making this wonderful island our home for three, albeit short days and nights, and returned to civilisation.  Cognisant of the importance of leaving the camp as we found it, we dismantled our wicker partition,the fire ring and the other human imprints we left to allow the wild processes of nature reclaim its rightful place. All in all a great Survivor Paddy, where everyone made their own contribution through their various skills for the collective benefit of all present.

Survivor Paddy 2

Co. Kerry , Ireland

After taking on the Western Way last year for the inaugural Survivor Paddy, this year we decided to head to the south-west and hike the northern section of the Kerry Way over the May bank holiday weekend in 2011. With a larger contingent of eight eager Paddies in tow we arrived in Killarney on the Thursday eve and checked into the Railway Hostel. After dropping our rucksacks up to the dorm we got in some late grub in the town followed by a couple of pints to calm the excitable anticipation of the few days ahead. Back in the hostel before bed, the discussion revolved around the weight of each respective kit, with a few feeling theirs, and some others, to be on the heavy side.

Day 1

The Friday morning was the perfect time to get out into the wildness as the Killarney International Rally of the Lakes was taking place over the same weekend. So we left the town, heading out along the Kenmare Road and then crossed into the picturesque grounds of Muckross House and the periphery of Killarney National Park. On our western flank as we walked were two of Ireland’s finest lakes, Lough Leane and then Lough Muckross, both set in the foreground of the famous Macgillycuddy’s Reek Mountains. Leaving the demense, we crossed back over the Kenmare road a few kilometres into the walk and took the stepped track up towards Torc Waterfall. Passing the waterfall, the track, now overlain with railway sleepers, opened out from an area of mature deciduous forest into an upland plateau of blanket bog. The first sense of wilderness came to us here. Coming down off the plateau we traversed the Kenmare Road again and entered into Derrycunnity Wood which borders the southern shore of Lough Muckross. From there the group hiked on towards the semi-wilderness of Black Valley, stopping only for a dip in the river and some other river-related antics along the way. By evening time, the weight of the rucksacks wore heavily on one or two of the party and the pace notably decreased. Although a few Paddies were still in fine fettle and kept the collective spirit raised as sun waned in the sky. Despite all this, it took another couple of hours to identify a suitable area to camp for the night with an advanced party going ahead of the hiking peloton and foot-sore stragglers. A very suitable campsite was located on the shores of Lough Cumeenduff . To get there involved jumping some barbed wire and then a steep hike down off the main track along the edge of a coniferous forest. Ditching the heavy kit was a simple rewarding pleasure as we knew this was it hiking-wise until the next morning. There was plenty of firewood, a good shore to fish from and even take a refreshing dip in. One or two bags were lightened as some steak fillets were produced and cooked up over the burning embers of the camping fire. The craic around the fire was good as the night set in and the last person retired to their tent around 2:30am. Distance walked 24 km.

Day 2

Leaving camp around 10am, the group got back on the track after a steep uphill hike and eventually made headway over the spectacular elevated wild and rocky pass from the Black Valley into the Bridia Valley. Having walked through the remote valley, we climbed up through another pass along a sheep trail and followed the track down along a fast-flowing, cascading river which eventually led us to turn left onto a long and weary road to Glencar village. In the interim, the river proved to be an ideal stop to take a break, and jump into the deep natural, pools of water. On the road into Glencar, one of the troops was suffering quite badly underfoot from blisters which developed the day before and unfortunately mechanised transport (aka a taxi) had to be hailed by satellite phone (okay mobile phone)‘to evac’ him out directly to the hostel in the village. In credit to him, he had honourably persevered throughout the day and the previous afternoon in aching pain so there was no dishonour in succumbing at this time. After what seemed like an age, the rest of the group made it to Glencar village around 6 pm and we broke survivor protocol to have a couple of ciders and sit outside the pub there as the sun set. Camp was set up near the hostel and a roaring fire was lit which was not put out until the early hours.

Distance walked 16.5 km.

Day 3

This was the final leg of our hike. From Glencar village we hiked over the day to our final destination of Glenbeigh. The hiking took us through some magnificent forestry and at one point along the Caragh River where we stopped for a spot of fishing and cooked up the last of our rations on the exposed river bank. The mountain trail through the Windy Gap was also spectacular. The Sunday evening was finished off in Glenbeigh, where we all tucked into some much anticipated creamy Guinness on arrival, scrubbed up and ate some grub back in relative civilisation. Distance walked 16km.

All in all a great 3-day hike in a beautiful part of Ireland. Another Survivor Paddy where the weather held up and it was still only the beginning of the summer. The camaraderie among the group along the way and each evening was very enjoyable too. This is becoming an annual thing I think. Roll on next year.

Total Hike 56.5 km

Survivor Paddy 1

Connemara, Ireland

Day 1 – 16 km / Day 2 – 17 km / Day 3 – 9 km

Total length walked on the trek was 42 km

After a few months in the planning we finally got underway on the last day of April 2010, for what, in time, turned out to be the inaugural and first in a series of annual Survivor Paddy adventures and not just a once off trip as we originally thought at the time.  The plan was to hike a section of the Western Way from just north of Oughterard village in Co. Galway to Leenaun on the shores of Killary Harbour over the course of three days. We also planned to wild camp at unknown locations on two of those nights along the route and packed our kits with the necessary supplies accordingly.  This route was to take us through the heart of Connemara from the north-western shores of Lough Corrib right on to the Atlantic Ocean and provide us with vistas of some the most scenic, undervalued and unspoiled landscape Ireland has to offer.

Despite each of the five of us being outdoor enthusiasts in a variety of disparate pursuits which included fly-fishing, scuba diving and surfing, the group as a whole only had limited experience of long distance trail or hill-walking and so did not really know what to expect for the few days ahead.

We all met up at 11 am on the Friday morning a good distance up the Glann Road where we could park up and leave our vehicles.  This winding, undulating road runs northwards out from Oughterard village closely following the western shore of one of Ireland’s most majestic lakes, Lough Corrib.  The lake is the second largest on the island of Ireland with a surface area of almost 18,000 ha and spans c. 64 km on its longest axis from the wilds of Connemara, Joyce Country and the Maam Valley southwards to Galway city.

Our last mainstream contact with the civilised world was hearing the news of the untimely death of the well-known 2FM radio presenter Gerry Ryan as we made final preparations for the walk at the cul-de-sac on the Glann Road.  It was a tad unsettling to hear this news as it was out of the blue and I had enjoyed listening to him daily in the past few years on my drive into work.  Also the news brought back some vague memories of him being centrally involved in a survival saga in Connemara in the 1980s.  This affair came to national attention as a farmer’s lamb was apparently crudely slaughtered to stave off the hunger of group of wilderness novices sent out to survive in the wild by the Gay Byrne radio show (see http://bit.ly/1IQXznV for more on this).  The comparison was not lost on me as to our present circumstances, albeit, we had afforded ourselves the luxury of packing what food we thought we would need in addition to some minor luxuries for the few days ahead. Nevertheless, all we were to bring had to be carried in our rucksacks on our backs.

The first part of the walk took us along a way-marked forest path which hugged the north-west shore of Lough Corrib.  This eventually led into wild, open and isolated country where the level terrain adjacent to the lake shore progressively becomes narrower as it runs into the eastern slopes of Lackavrea mountain.  Only a few kilometres into the trip we came across what appeared to be a semi-abandoned, ‘crusty-esque’ camp in a clearing over-looking the track.  We stopped here briefly to have a look around, took off a few layers and re-adjusted our kit.  Fortuitously, we scavenged an old tea pot and grill here which would prove useful for the anticipated camp fires ahead.

After leaving the forest we had our first route choice to make which was to follow the new way-marked Western Way with its recently installed timber boardwalk or take the older, apparently unmarked, original route.  Of course, being elect survivors, we took the latter, particularly, as according to the OS map, the newer route took in a little too much of the R336 road for our liking.  Traversing a number of streams and still navigating along the lake shore, we came across a surreal site, a dilapidated farmhouse and small out-buildings which still had some old net curtains blowing in the wind through the part-broken glass windows.  There was also an open half-door at the front of the house.  Inside hung old picture frames on the decaying walls devoid of any inserts, there were pieces of old delft, and some old furniture lying about in a disorganised fashion.  We could see no obvious way the previous occupant or occupants could get in or out of this very beautiful, but isolated location, as it backed onto the mountain, apart from hiking or taking a boat.  After the trip I was informed that this house was occupied from the 1920s up until the late 1970s or 80s and indeed the man who lived there most of his life surprisingly used to journey in and out in this manner to reach local villages or distant neighbours when needed.

As we journeyed on from here, the realisation increasingly dawned on us that we may have inadvertently gone off the old Western Way as there was no obvious path to take around the mountain to get back on some sort of track to lead us north-westwards in the general direction of Maum village.  Our only choice was to go over the northern shoulder of Lackavrea to continue forward.  This involved a very steep scramble up the slope with heavy backpacks in tow.  Finally, after much toil we managed to overcome this unnecessary obstacle to rejoin the old Western Way route through some farmland populated with spring lambs.

On leaving the farm track, we had a brief stint of walking on the R336, turning left off the main road onto a minor side road after crossing the Failmore River, just south of Maum village. It was here that thoughts came as to where to camp for the night as the sun was slowly setting and rendering the evening sky with a fine orange hue to the west.  Our legs were also getting progressively weary owing to our over-laden kit and ‘off piste’ detour earlier that day.

Choosing a place to wild camp proved more difficult than we first thought as this side road was intermittently dotted with dormer bungalows and we did not want to upset any local landowners by setting up camp without permission.  Ideally we wanted to camp away from signs of civilisation.  At one stage with no locals in sight, we even called into a house to ask for permission to set up camp along the Bealnabrack River which adjoined their land. Unfortunately, this wasn’t granted, so on we wearily plodded along the road.

Just as we felt our luck was running out, a man came trundling down the hill towards us on his Black Nellie. He was on his way into Maum for a few pints as it turned out, but more importantly he was a local landowner. On hearing our predicament, he immediately offered us an ideal spot to camp for the night on his land by the upper reaches of the Failmore River, so there we headed with great haste.

There is little more rewarding in life than setting up camp in the wild, getting the fire going, cooking up a well-deserved feed and sitting around to chat over a few drinks after a long day’s walk in the great outdoors.  So that’s what we did.  The mystery of why Jay was finding it so tough ascending the shoulder of Lackavrea earlier in the day was finally resolved when he produced not one, not two, but eight, yes eight cans of stout from his backpack to surprise us all with.  A bottle Wicklow Mountain blaeberry wine I had home-brewed the previous year was also shared around.  After some great banter under clear starry skies, we retired for the night just before 2am.

Length walked on day 1 was 16 km.

We were up relatively early on day two, around 8am.  After a quick scrub in the river to freshen up, a small fire was lit to cook some breakfast and boil water for tea. After packing up camp, we recommenced our trek up to and through the pass at Maum Ean (St Patrick’s Bed).  Maum Ean has been a place of pilgrimage since early Christian times and continued as such until it died out in the mid-1900s.  The main reason for its decline was largely due to it being brought into disrepute in the 19th century by various local factions fuelled up on poitín getting progressively rowdy the day of the pilgrimage.  In more recent times, the traditional pilgrimage has been revived.

From the Maum Ean pass, the Western Way opened out into the spectacular Lough Inagh valley and led us in a northerly direction.  The valley is set between the sharp-peaked Twelve Ben mountain range to the west and the Maamturk range to the east.  After a long, but steady day’s walking in continuing good weather conditions, we eventually set up camp just off the track in some damp coniferous plantation forestry adjacent to a fast-flowing, boulder-strewn stream.  The evening allowed our tired limbs some respite and after a well-deserved campfire cooked dinner, we settled down into jovial conversation over a few hot whiskeys.

Length walked on day 2 was 17 km.

Day three was the final leg of our adventure. From our camp, the Western Way led us through the remainder of the forestry with the ground under foot becoming more rugged as it embraced the outer periphery of the Maamturk range and revealed Killary Fjord and the Atlantic Ocean to the west.  The path eventually descended to join the road just outside of our destination of Leenaun at the fjord’s shore.  To our delight, this proud moment was serendipitously celebrated by a large band of classic motorcyclists speeding past us all beeping their horns as we left the track.  A final 1 km track into Leenaun along the road brought us into the village. Here we sat across the road from Gaynor’s Bar (famous from the movie The Field) for a few well-deserved stouts and took stock of what was an excellent introductory trip from the group to trail walking and wild camping in the wilds of western Ireland.

Length walked on day 3 was 9 km.

Although the three day walk in itself wasn’t as demanding a trip you could potentially undertake, we did gain a few very valuable insights that would stand to us for more some of the more challenging adventures to come. The first is that the fitter you are, the easier and more enjoyable whole experience is.  Building up a certain level of fitness from running or walking before such an undertaking also hardens up your feet and limbs to better endure long distances. A good pair of sturdy, not weighty hiking boots is also essential.  It is important that the boots are well broken in before taking on a long distance walk as this can limit the development of annoying blisters that would otherwise arise.  The weight of kit carried is also significant.  An overly heavy kit will place an undue strain on the walker so it is important to pack smartly.

Total length walked on the trek was 42 km.