Take a bow!

This week I was back at Croagh Patrick after 8 years. Back in 2005 I climbed the mountain from the southern side with my friend Jossie (no, not the husband!), via an unofficial trail that connected to the main trail at the ridge. Even though I remembered that as a pretty tough climb, I knew that the traditional route was tougher, because it starts just above sea level, so it's a real 700m+ climb!

Jos had completed his walk in the early afternoon, so I followed after we 'swapped' parental duties and off I was, passing this very clean statue of the snake chasing Saint.

My plan was to descend via the western flank of the mountain, but when I got to nearly 50 meters from the top, the fog started coming down and I was wondering what would be best to do.

I decided to ignore the 'hard work' prescribed on the plaque - sorry, I'm not a Catholic, I have only married one - and walked around the church once to ecplore if anything had changed since 2008, before exploring the western trail.

The trail seemed very clear and when descending I thought the fog should really lift soon enough - but no! It didn't! And there I stood, in the middle of quite boggy terrain, no clear trail ahead anymore and no sign of lighter conditions going down. I had come down at least 75 meters if not more, the wind had picked up as well and I was getting cold, despite the warm jacket I was wearing. I had a look at my phone, battery 50%, turned off 3G to save battery life and I decided to climb back to the top, before getting lost or ending up on the too steep slope I had noticed on my map. Not being familiar with the terrain and knowing darkness was less than 3 hours away I just had to overcome my disappointment of not completing that particular route and go back up and be sensible - sometimes I hate being sensible, but I had to be because my compass skills are rusty! The climb back was very tough - I could feel I was still shaking off the effects of a tummy bug that had affected our gang the two previous days - so I was litterally counting my steps up to thirty every time and then I took a rest. When finally back at the summit, I took a five minute break, texted Jos I was going to be back in an hour and started my descend. With every step I took my confidence returned and I was happy to take in the fantastic scenery as soon as I dug under the clouds.

Mayo bog land, forest and lake to the southern side of the mountain...

Names in white stones - mostly quartz I think - which I hadn't noticed on my way up...

... and the beautiful small islands of Clew Bay, occasionaly lit by rays of evening sun.

Despite the incredible erosion on this mountain caused by the tens of thousands of climbers and pilgrims every year, it is one of the most beautiful mountains to climb in the West of Ireland and not 'just' the Djouce of the West as I had secretly nicknamed it to myself.

 So, after a very enjoyable climb, a few ugly moments after the disappointment on the western flank and the glorious descend in evening sunshine, I have to just...

...take a bow to this mountain and come back again in a few years time for another attempt via the western flank!

There is always more to explore!