Here is a list of the hikes for the first part of the year. If you would like to type up a report of any of the hikes you've been on, feel free to do so and please email them to uccmountaineering@gmail.com. Further down there is a timetable for the Irish Bouldering League.
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|
Date |
Climb |
Summary |
1 Oct |
Boughaill |
Story by Orla Ní Cheallacháin After a long summer of lazy Sunday mornings in bed, the hard-core and committed members of the UCC Mountaineering Club once again found themselves reaching for well-worn mountain pants and hard-core power stretch, trusted gear bags and ham and cheese sandwiches. Gaol Cross once again became a veritable hive of activity. New comers tentatively mingled with each other and old weathered faces greeted them with the panache and aplomb that only the UCCMC can manage at 8:30 on a Sunday morning! For once the sky was clear, the sun was making outlandish promises of sticking about and those who didn’t know better were being lulled into the illusion that packing their rain gear was a bit silly really. Much like gazelles on the Serengeti (also found in Co. Kerry as some members of the group were surprised to learn) the buses bounded westward, giving our foreign visitors a wonderful taster of the scenery that was to come. All 91 of us descended en masse on a small unsuspecting corner shop in Kenmare for breakfast and to stock up on the day’s supplies, leaving the shelves empty and the locals reeling in shock after Sunday Mass. Onwards to the mountains where we found ourselves surrounded in a fine example of Irish cloud. In the general hubbub of the ensuing minutes we split into four groups. Our valiant club leader, Captain Ruardhrí lead the first group, Treasurer Conor and Secretary Emer took the second group on a lovely jaunt over the three peaks finishing up with a lovely river crossing and road walk, Stephen Twomey, long term member and one time captain of the club boldly lead the third group and P.R.O Jack bravely co-lead the fourth group with myself. As always we had a lovely international mix, with both hemispheres being more than adequately represented. The clouds soon cleared and we had fantastic views of the Black Valley, the proud Reeks in the distance and the foreboding mass of Bruch na Binne coming through the mists just around lunch time. For once the Arts students in the group almost outnumbered the traditionally well-represented science students of the club and we embarked on an enlightened and contemplative journey through the hills. After lunch we meandered down towards Boughill Rock and onward to the bus, stopping for chocolate breaks, Jaffa-Cake breaks and a spot of sunbathing along the way. A fantastic first hike back with great company and great weather. After a quick change and short wait we were on our way back to Killarney for some liquidised fortification be it in the form of tea, soup or stout. All short term nutritional needs satisfied we were on our way back to Cork, where despite gallant efforts by some of the more energetic members of the group, the sing song, on our bus at least failed to get off the ground, however there will be none of that next week! As always the day ended in the Western Star where the evening continued into the early hours... |
8 Oct |
The Comeraghs |
Story by Conor Ryan The Epitome of Misery To look up ‘misery’ and ‘fun’ simultaneously in a thesaurus would suffice to define todays walk. Myself and Orla (dicreetly) decided on who would lead our walk by the almighty, age old, unquestionable powers of rock/paper/scissors. I was to be leading with Orla co-leading from the back. We hadn’t stepped foot on the mountain long before the heavens opened – a deluge, or “shitstorm”, as Tom calls it pissed down (and under and across and behind) us. While putting on my all-back-difficult-to-see-in-fog waterproofs, the map instantly turned into a slab of whitish-green soggy mush (I owe you one non-laminated map of the Waterford area Orla). Determined not to be defeated by the torrents of rain, we hiked onwards and upwards. As we began to hit the narrower and rockier part of the ridge (approx. 2-3 sheep wide in places) people began to question the category under which my walk fell – the short walk. I explained that short in this case did not mean easier or less strenuous, it just meant that there was more up and less across. We had a brief lunch in one of the few sheltered parts of the ridge, a welcome break from the deafening sound of your hood (or capuche in French as I learned today) slapping repeatedly off your ears. We continued the clockwise circumnavigation of Coomshingaun having bumped into Marcus and Tom at the top of the ridge. Some bog, magic mushrooms (not eaten, just observed… no seriously, they’re still up there), and many rotting dead sheep carcasses later, we came to the opposite ridge and began to descend. My predictions about the wind picking up transpired to be true and soon we were getting pebble-dashed with rain. It felt as though chunks of flesh were being ripped clean off your face, but it was great – the misery was only mighty! Having passed the really non-convincing tree-shaped mobile phone mast, we were the first group back to the bus. After some nakedness, emptying of bilges, sharing of many sweaty items of clothing (which reminds me, where the hell are my pants!?) , and Maryland cookies (which hilariously enough, cant be found in Maryland) we were sitting on our steamy bus, contemplating hot whiskeys and soup in Moby Dicks. Though inflation rates seem to fluctuate wildly within the confines of Moby Dicks, I can’t complain as the soup kicked ass and the hot whiskey hit the spot nicely. As usual, the conversation flowed like alcohol in Ballintaggart. The usual hot and controversial topics such as power stretch -v- manpants and bananas were discussed and before we knew it, we were on the road home to Cork. A great walk as per usual (but personally, I think a bit of slap-ass is needed at the back of the group (private joke…sounds dodgy doesn’t it)) though we may only need one bus for Gougán Barra next Sunday now that people have seen the wrath of Irish mountain weather. |
15 Oct |
Gougane Barra |
Story by Emer Walker After a bit of a rushed start I made it to Goal Cross 8:30. For a change, I decided to deviate from my norm and check out the craic on the “Party Bus”. A quick pit stop in Ballincollig later, we were fuelled and watered and ready in our search to find the Source (not of Eternal Youth!) but of the River Lee! As our buses rolled into the car park, the restaurant owners decided to close the restaurant for the day, lest they be attacked by a horde of hungry climbers on our return! After much deliberation they were christened as the long but relatively easy, lead by Orla and back marked by Gavin, the medium length but seriously hard core hike featuring The Gully which Conor and Sean were leading and back marking. And then we had the shorter easier one, on which Ruari lead and I back marked. Other suggested names had been Inspirational walk, poetic jaunt in the woods and the like! Our walk started with a road walk, then a bit of an adventure through the woods. The misty swirls gave a real Lord of the Rings feel to the place; thankfully we didn’t cross paths with any trolls, hobbits and such like! Although a noisy sheep decided to back mark me fro a while……!! A little bit of gully scrambling later, we reached a lovely viewing point and as far as the eye could see (which wasn’t very far!) was an expanse of grey swirling fog! We stopped for our first lunch by the shelter of some rock. I’d love to point out that people this year don’t seem to be as interested in cookies this year, and also have we any Jaffa Cake addicts yet?!! On our adventure we also came across the smallest “lake” I’ve ever seen its definition as a big puddle would be a better description. Its depth will remain a mystery as unfortunately no one decided to take the plunge! Perhaps our walk should have been called the Inspirational one after all…..as I did discover something about myself that I was previously unaware of! It all became crystal clear when I was in the middle of the delicate process of crossing a fence. My legs weren’t quite as long as I thought! I managed a comical slow motion fall, which personally I’d rate at about eight out of ten. Every one was aware though that I used this technique for demonstration purposes only – how not to cross a fence! As we began to descend the clouds rose and a clearer view of the lake could be seen. It was at this point that we tapped into our homing devices which brought us directly down to the pub – surprise, surprise!! Many a drink and scone later we dragged our selves away from the fire for the homeward leg of the journey. The sound of the engine was soon drowned out by the singing on the Party Bus. Such a wonderful collection from “The Wheels on the Bus”, to Celine Dion, “Johnny Jump Up” and the futile attempts to keep up with Gavin in the “Ratlin Bog”. A good day was had by all, with many new faces been seen for the first and hopefully not the last time! And as a perfect finish to the day we headed to the Star for a few! |
22 Oct |
Hungry Hill |
Story by Emer Walker You know winter won't be too far off when the Sunday hikes start at 8:00am. I firmly believe that 8:00am on a Sunday morning feels earlier than 8:00am on any other day of the week..... I think it might be one of life's mysteries! Though reduced in number to twenty four, we headed for the hill that is loved and feared by many - Hungry Hill. We felt like we were tempting fate a little, or certainly the weather gods as things were looking a little unpredictable...even the for forecasters! Thankfully, the rain clouds decided to stay in the distance for the day, which reminded the club that the mountain is not only known as Hungry Hell but Hill as well!! Onwards we marched with Ruaidhri leading and Jack, Gavin and I backmarking (as we all know its a very tough job and it takes three people!) We zig zagged our way up, stopping often to admire the view and to watch the rain fall on the distant hills! The view from the top was amazing and required the necessary photographs to prove we had "been there done that". There were hand stands galore, dances on the county lines and many more shenanigans....!! I'd say it was the altitude personally! On our way down the scenery was just as spectacular, well that was until we came to a lake.A rare species, previously unknown in these part was seen entering the lake in its white winter coat and emerged a shade of boggy brown. It goes by the name of Captainius Ruairius and was followed by another if the species. They demonstrated the technique of the doggy paddle and drunken bog walking. It was indeed a rare sight to behold one which will probably haunt the mind of the innocent by standers who just happened to be in the vicinity for many years to come! When everyone was changed and fully clothed we headed for Bantry. We proceeded to walk around Bantry for half an hour before we finally found a place to eat (a very nice Pizzeria in the end!) One fountain bubble fight and sunset photography session later we were on our home ward leg. In true UCCMC fashion a good sing song was had, lead by the One and Only Gavin ( the evidence is already on the web!) I thought the total for the day was twenty four but then again I could have sworn I heard Rick James and Michael Jackson on board too!! P.J did it again, this time he predicted to be back in Cork at 8:01 and sure enough we were back to the Star bang on time! I'm sure he must have all the traffic light sequences timed!!! |
29 Oct |
The Horses Glen |
First person to recount their tale to
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5 Nov |
Coomsaharen! Em, actually no... The Gap of Dunloe |
First person to recount their tale to
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10, 11, 12 Nov |
Dingle WeekendPants were optional |
Story by Conor Ryan "Bringing Sexy Baaaaaack!" This year’s Dingle Weekend was different to last year’s but in a nice way. Instead of having a civilized first night and an absolutely insane second night, the craziness was diluted over both nights. There was drinking and shenanigans aplenty… High 5, High 5! (you had to be there, no honestly, it’s not annoying, if you were there you’ll understand). It was a kind of Borat appreciation themed weekend, and now there’s no need to watch the movie as we have all heard all of the dialogue. The hike was, in my humble opinion, the best so far this year. We had great views of the sea in Ruaidhi’s group, and every effort was made (by myself and Mattias at least) to put ourselves on exposed overhangs for impressive photos, which turned out to be fairly cool indeed. Having forgotten my own lunch (duh), I bummed various bits of food off others and managed to sponge Jaffa cakes, a filled roll and cookies from the others – the nervous breakdown soon abated when the prospect of me starving to death diminished. The weather broke surprisingly quickly: a blanket of cloud and rain set in as fast as Gavin can fill a kitchen of starving pancake-craving drunken mountaineers. But this didn’t dampen our high spirits and it’s effects were counteracted by lots of group hugging and some frolicking. We checked out the top of the Faha Ridge (just to make sure it was still there) but were soon back on our intended route to the summit where a shaky wooden cross can be seen… what an original idea… We made our way down the pilgrim route and I’m notoriously bad at counting but I’m pretty certain there were some crosses missing from it (I believe they make excellent firewood). A bit of a road walk later and we arrived at the yellow pub only to find a sick form of entertainment in the field across the road. A very confused sheep dog was taking it’s name a little bit too literal by trying to procreate with an innocent, helpless sheep…disturbing stuff really and before long the whole local community was out to see the spectacle. The dog was removed, and clearly embarrassed as it took the walk of shame with its tail between it’s legs. The bus, which for some unknown reason has a shrine to Eamon Dunphy at the front, dropped us off at the new driveway to Ballintaggart and next thing we knew, we were all hammered drunk. Ruadhri brought the night to a start in style by defying medical science and cracking a 2.5kg slab of 60% cocoa chocolate off his forehead without becoming concussed or killed. There was also a magic well in the court yard, which was kept extra magic thanks to a kishu… The fun bed was a bit of an anti-climax this year and only consisted of one comatosed body by the time I saw it! Circumnavigating the table, cardboard biting, dodgy card games (8’s?) and the can-can are other activities which come to mind. There was an extra dimension added to the pancakes this year in the form of melted marshmallows AND chocolate whiskey sauce and another dimension was suggested but that idea quickly went up in smoke ;) All in all, another outstandingly successful weekend away that has left it’s mark on all of our…..livers. |
19 Nov |
Crohane/Stoompa |
Story by Orla Ní Cheallacháin It’s Sunday morning, it’s 6.45am and my alarm has just woken me from the perfect dream, made all the more enjoyable by the fact that I was in a warm bed in a cold room, the kind that makes you reluctant even to poke a toe out from the covers. Thoughts momentarily surfaced through the cloud of sleep that suggested maybe I’d like to sit this one out, the weather forecast was bad and I hadn’t been in bed long enough by half. However as usual those thoughts disappeared as soon as consciousness took over and I remembered that snow had been promised. Pushing the weather forecast to the back of my mind I envisaged blue skies, snow fights and possibly even a snowman if the mood took us. Encouraged I reached for my boots, my bag and found myself standing by gaol cross under clear blue skies before I knew it. As we motored on westward with P.J., things started to go west in the metaphorical sense as well. There was wind... and rain, rain driven wind if you will. Ignoring what was going on outside the bus we merrily chugged along to the base of Crohane and Stoompa. As we were a small group we decided to stay together with Ruaidhri leading, and the most enthusiastic backmarker in history, Bradford coming up behind. Huddled by the side of the bus we all quickly got into waterproof gear and headed off into the wind to climb up Stoompa. Before we knew it we were on the mountain, strolling by lakes and through pretty places. It was raining and it was a bit windy but it was still fun. Then someone, who shall remain nameless, decided to test the weather gods by making the foolhardy statement that if the weather is going to be bad at all it might as well be a hurricane instead of drizzle. The weather gods heard his prayer and hit us with the most vicious winds I have ever experienced. Nonetheless we managed to have something resembling a snow fight, a fact that the bruises on my general person will testify to, (I could have sworn one of them contained a boulder;)!), the wind helping the aim of some, severely debilitating it in the case of others, namely my own. As we made the final ascent to Stoompa we met gale force winds that forced us to turn skirt around the peak and find shelter for a rushed and extremely cold lunch. A brave few attempted to get to the top but had to turn back a few meters shy of the top. As they turned back so did the rest of the group. Cutting the route short we turned straight to the magical valley of fairies and fun stuff promised to us by captain Ruaidhri but had to brave the winds for some time more. We were blown across the mountain, our faces were stung with hail and sleet, we had to group together for warmth and to keep ourselves from blowing away but we got there. Surrounded by mossy glades and waterfalls on all sides we spend the rest of the day in relative shelter and damp comfort. The melt water from the previous few days of snow lent itself to spectacular gushing rivers and wonderful cascading waterfalls. Making our way through the saturated valley we followed the river back to the lake, wondering all the while what it was like to be dry and eventually got back to the bus, in one piece, if not a little tired and drenched. After a quick change we were on our way to Macroom, where hot soup, tea, pints and hot ports were awaiting us all, not to mention the promise of dryness afforded by the indoors. After a much needed and reviving bowl of soup and cup of tea we were all feeling much better and settled back into a much more comfortable journey back to Cork where we all went straight home to shower and to dry out our waterlogged gear. As I sit here and look back on the day, there’s a part of my mind that wonders where the masochist streak in me comes from that makes me put myself through it every week, but the other more dominant side just can’t wait for next hike and wishes it was tomorrow instead of a week away!! |
26 Nov |
Coomlaughra Horseshoe |
First person to recount their tale to
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3 Dec |
The Galtees |
First person to recount their tale to
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10 Dec |
Purple Mountain |
Story by Conor Ryan Mother nature hurled all her fury at us once again today… some one has really pissed off the weather Gods, we must offer more Jaffa cakes to them –we need some mountaintop pagan rituals because this is just getting out of hand. To keep it short and sweet: We left our cosy bus in the bleak and deserted gap; apparently the only people dedicated enough to the cause in this nook of The Kingdom, as we passed no other hikers all day. We comprised of 12 people so it was a nice small group. A brief road walk down the gap brought us to the bottom of Tomies Rock and we climbed up through a neat little gully- one of ‘The Chimneys’. Strong gusts were whipping up a nasty spray from the lakes and the rivers were running demented in the valley below. The walk up to Tomies involved adopting a ski-jumper stance of about 45 degrees. The rain was described as exfoliating but I’d be more inclined to call it pebble dashing. While eating lunch (and discussing whether or not you are truly naked if still wearing a watch) the wind picked up even further and we turned around about 150m below the summit of Purple Mountain when fun gave way to pain and the real danger that someone might end up in Belfast. We had soup and sandwiches in Kate’s, talked about poetry (in a cool non-nerdy way, I swear) and Letterfrack. So there we finished the last hike of 2006, it felt Christmasy, but that might have had something to do with Susie’s Santa hat, complete with real lights! It was great to be out getting bashed around by the elements having been stuck indoors all week, and to be honest I couldn’t think of anything better to do on a day like today. |
|
Date |
Climb |
Summary |
14 Jan |
The Knockmealdowns |
First person to recount their tale to
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21 Jan |
The Paps |
Story by Emer Walker After a very wet and windy night, a group of optimistic and slightly nervous faces greeted our five star bus.Once everyone was on board, including Philip who decided to warm up by jogging after the bus with the gear bag, we set off on our trip. It was a mixture of smiles and confusion when we stopped thirty seconds later at he local Centra for supplies. Some had to be convinced that no it wasn't a joke! AS we rounded the county bounds we were greeted by the lovely sight of the Paps, one of the m which had a nice covering of snow. our two groups went their separate ways lead by Orla and Ruaidhri and backmarked by Conor and myself. Our group started the hike in typical farmyard setting, rusty cars and tractors, run down houses but surprisingly very few animals! onwards we trod, we did a little fence scrambling and bog jumping as an added bonus. there were at times a few Mary Poppins attempts but thankfully nothing too successful! We had lunch on the summit of the first peak and watches as the other group set off towards us. Lunch was hurriedly put away as we gathered our ammunition for the imminent attack. Although we had the advantage of added height, to be quite honest I think we were hammered! Harder snowballs and better aim but we did put up a good fight! We even had a flurry of snow to top it all off! the rest of the hike involved some more snow fights, Roley pollies and many other antics. As usual we were the last group back to the bus, a quick change of clothes later (in front of the church) and we were on our home wards journey via Macroom. We decided to do a cafe/pub/ take away crawl without purchasing much or in fact anything at all?! The Polish take away was by far the best, it had someting to suit everyone from hot chocolate and coffee to burgers and chicken nuggets. Not to mention the nice big portions! Seeing as though the Star is now closed, we've decided to invade a new pub on sunday nights- The Thirsty Scholar. Good hike, and great weather - its so nice to be back!! P.S. Environmental Science students are taking over!! (slowly but surely world dominationis in our grasp!) |
28 Jan |
Mahon Falls (The Comeraghs) |
First person to recount their tale to
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4 Feb |
Knocklamena |
First person to recount their tale to
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11 Feb |
The Hag's Glen |
First person to recount their tale to
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18 Feb |
Coomsaharn Horseshoe |
First person to recount their tale to
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25 Feb |
Slieve Mish |
First person to recount their tale to
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4 Mar |
Mt. Brandon |
First person to recount their tale to
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11 Mar |
Cloon Lake |
First person to recount their tale to
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18 Mar |
The Reeks Ridge |
Story By Conor Ryan Before the bus left, people were reminded (a little bluntly, but rightly so) that this hike would be the most challenging of the year. Three people made the responsible decision of getting off the bus and sixteen left for Killarney. We picked up Conor O Mahony after a near-miss outside Ballincollig and Philip (plus his suit!) in Daly’s. Pumped with caffeine and cuisine de France cakes we hit the Hydro road with vigour. At the top we splintered, six people heading up Skregmore: Myself, Philip Stack, Amanda Thalman, Shane Brosnan, Felix Meehan and Maurice Fitzgerald. The rest: Ruaidhri Murphy (leading), Jack Higgins, Conor O Mahony, Andrew Harrington, Caroline Browne, Rory Conboye, Adele Maguire, Askea O Dowd, Mattias Nilsson, Jerry Kelly, Dave McCarthy, and Tom Egan took the Caher route. Our group made short work of Skregmore but were stopped by strong winds, hail/snow and some drifting for about five minutes half way up Beenkeragh. A bit of lunch at 1010m on the summit of Beenkeragh and we were off again having checked the wind direction. We took advantage of a brief lull in the weather and crossed the Beenkeragh Ridge fairly swiftly. The views were especially rewarding: surrounded on all sides by Caher, Beenkeragh and Carrauntoohill: imposing rocky giants thrusting skyward, draped in snow – punctuated by black jagged gully’s like veins meeting in the valleys below. The Coumeenapeiste ridge cut the sky and Striochin mocked us from a distance…(I know, I know, very poetic for a science student!) The other group called us on the radios to say they were going down the Heavenly Gates to escape the bad weather. Unaware of how bad it actually was, we were initially determined to drive-on and complete the ridge. However, detecting the genuine concern in their voices and hearing descriptions of horrendous weather that we had not seen from where we were, we decided that common sense should override heroism and we too opted for the safe choice.
There was a pathetic attempt at a snow fight when we met up with the bigger group on the southern face of Carrauntoohil just before the Heavenly Gates which gave way to cheesy team-bonding in the form of friendship circles and the can-can! The descriptions of the snow tornadoes across the ridge were soon realised when we had to hit deck several times to allow howling twisters screech over our heads, whipping up snow at least 50foot into the air… not something you want to see coming your way as you’re drawing yellow lines in the snow ;) It was pretty amazing but terrifying all the same! There was frog spawn everywhere on the way down and which was fun to jiggle and we got a good kick out of the fact that the climbing information sign in Lislebane was sponsored by a Free food and orange cordial in Kate’s hit the spot nicely and we were back in Cork at around half nine, with the Dingle 25th anniversary the main topic of conversation…it will be epic…o yes it will… |
23 - 25 Mar |
25th Anniversary – Weekend in Dingle, Ball and Social |
First person to recount their tale to
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Climbing Intervarsities
The 2006/7 climbing intervarsity will take place on March 3rd and 4th 2007, in Queens University Belfast. More information can be found at the QUB Mountaineering Website.
The Irish Bouldering League (IBL)
The Irish Boulder league is a bouldering competition run all over Ireland each year. More information can be found at www.climbing.ie.
|
Place |
Date |
NUI Galway |
11th November |
Midleton, Co. Cork |
2nd December |
R.D.S. - Outdoor Show |
3rd February |
D.C.U. Dublin |
10th March |
- no details yet - |
- no details yet - |
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