After an ice climb of a gully at the back of Glencullin Corrie to the Lugmore Ridge in 2010, the sight of Mweelrea (Mayo) from Ben Bury glowering in shafts of broken sunlight, its icy slopes shining like liquid mercury and the purple shapes of myriad islands floating amid rafts of sunshine reflected off the calm Atlantic, brought a sudden and unexpected lump to my throat and tears to my eyes. This vision is forever seared into my memory. With darkness chasing away the last rays of sunlight, there was no time to bag this behemoth on this occasion, so surmounting it on a hot autumn day with exquisite coastal views was unforgettable.
Slieve Foye (Lough) was a steep pull up from sea level, but I shall carry the memory of the views of Carlingford Lough and the
For an edgy experience the Truskmores win hands down, bagged at the fag end of a wet and windy summer’s day. The gate to the RTÉ mast access road declared the site off limits and due to the legendary hostility of the local farmers, including the infamously named ‘Bull McCabe’, we almost ran up the steep and dreary tarmac way convinced that any moment a shot would signal the prelude to our derrieres being peppered with buckshot, put there by an irate local farmer! Truskmore (
Finally, high drama on Galtymore (