The Stoney Man – Ridge of Capard

Last Sunday was a simply beautiful day, and whilst driving back down the M7 from Kildare the day before the Slieve Blooms had been calling my name.  The Ridge of Capard looked glorious under the sun on that bright Saturday afternoon, and I knew that I’d much rather be up there, than down here, driving on the motorway.  Plans were then made, that if Sunday morning was even half as sunny as Saturday had been, we would head up to the Ridge of Capard, and pay a visit to The Stoney Man.

Situated just below the summit of Clarnahinch Mountain, some claim that The Stoney Man is the finest viewing point in the centre of Ireland, and it is often asserted that on a clear day you can see at least six counties from there.  My mother and I had made a half-hearted attempt to visit the Stoney Man previously, but time constraints on that occasion meant we had to turn back and head home that time, without reaching our goal.

As you might expect on such a sunny day, the car park was almost full when we arrived, and the steps up to the nearby viewing platform were full of families, making the most of the beautiful day to visit this popular local beauty spot.  Having been up to the viewing platform a few times, we instead took the boardwalk path off to right, out of the car park, and soon spotted our desired destination for today’s walk, The Stoney Man, way off in the distance.  Dolly had a ball leaping on and off the boardwalk, to investigate the heather and bog holes.  She miss-judged one of the bog holes at one point and, to her surprise, got much more soggy than she expected.

Dolly on boardwalkWe followed the boardwalk until it met up with the Slieve Bloom Way, where we then left the looped trails and joined Slieve Bloom Way to begin picking our way through the firmer sections of heather and bog, from marker post to marker post.  On reaching the spot where my mother and I had  been compelled to turn around on an earlier visit I was relieved to see that some bog bridges had been installed across some of the wetter, deeper sections of bog.  Given the recent dry weather and low rainfall I was surprised at how wet the ground was up there.

At a couple of different points we spotted stone piles off to our left.  I’ve come across smaller ones in various places where we’ve walked, and they always remind me of Inukshuks.  We made a small divert to visit one of them, we nicknamed this one “The Stoney Boy”.  Having seen, from a distance, another walker take a stone from the pile, presumably as a souvenir, we looked for a suitable stone to add to it instead.  The walker had walked past us, on his way back to the car park. with his rock in hand, and I’m never sure whether to say anything in these situations?

Whilst researching for info on The Stoney Man I came across this: [link to original article]

As a one-time resident of the Slieve Bloom Mountains I was always intrigued by the presence of quasi-orderly heaps of stones at various points on the mountains, the most prominent being ‘The Stoney Man’ near Capard.
Carter explains that it was customary for travellers in the area to leave a stone, the symbol of self, as one passed certain points and he references an ancient Irish tradition which tells us that five stones constitute a cairn since they represent the five old kingdoms of Ireland.

It seems that travellers in this area have been doing this for generations, and we unwittingly continued the custom by add our own ‘Symbol of Self’.  That makes me smile.

The boggy ground briefly gave way to these curious rippled rocks, and we spent a while pondering on how they might have been formed.  The Slieve Bloom mountains are claimed to be the oldest mountains in Europe, and it is understood that their height has been substantially reduced over time, by weathering, from 3,700m to 527m.  We came up with several crazy theories on these ripples, which could be totally wrong (most likely), or miraculously correct (unlikely), but neither of us are geologists, so I think there’s little point in sharing our ideas.

Rippled Rocks

Rippled Rocks

Soon enough we were back on boggy ground, but the Slieve Bloom Way trail developers had thoughtfully installed a narrow section boardwalk to take us over the worst of it, and to bring us almost all of the way up to The Stoney Man.

Nearly there...

Nearly there…

Oh boy, what a spot, what a view!  Even on a hazy day, you felt you could see the whole of Ireland, let alone the alleged six counties. Whilst snacking on our snacks and supping on our tea, we sat there…soaking up the sun and soaking up the views.  I had wanted to visit the Stoney Man for a long time, and he hadn’t let me down with his promises.  It had taken us just under an hour to get here, but we had done our fair share of dawdling and diverting to look at interesting ‘stuff’ so I’m sure it won’t take that long, next time!  It was a relatively easy hike to a spot that delivered breathtaking views, and I can see us visiting this place often in the future.

Adjacent to The Stoney Man is this deep hollow area, which previous visitors have sadly used as a rubbish bin for their fruit peel, tea bags and treat wrappers, so before we left this beautiful spot we picked up as much as we could find to bring back with us.  Leaving litter like this really does spoil the area for others, and it is potentially dangerous for wildlife. To paraphrase Leave No Trace – Ireland; if you brought it out with you, take it back with you, please!

Stoney HollowOne of the things that caused much of our dawdling on the way up was my delight at finding so much frogspawn.  It was almost literally everywhere!  If anyone is planning on dong this section of the Slieve Bloom Way in the near future, please do watch where you step, because several lady frogs have got a little confused and deposited their spawn in the middle of the path.  It may have looked like the perfect tadpole nursery when they laid them, but the tadpoles might disagree when they hatch out!

I think the last time we got out for a decent walk was in January, with crappy weather and my annoying bad hip interfering with our free time in the interim period.  So it felt mighty good to get back out on the Slieve Blooms again.  The weather was perfect, I felt good, my legs felt strong, and my hip remained pain-free. Long may it continue!

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Slippery when frozen!

Golden Grove Woods – Glasderry Wood – Golden Grove Woods
18th January 2015

Golden Grove woods, near Roscrea (also, confusingly called Orange Wood Hill by Coillte) is somewhere I’ve brought the dogs to for walks on numerous occasions in the past, including one interesting bikejoring session involving Dolly and Dee, 2 bicycles, too much speed, loose gravel, a lack of brakes and a lot of swearing (mostly at ourselves, occasionally at loose dogs, but definitely not at our own dogs!).  We concluded on that occasion, that due to the popularity of the place, resulting in the high number of loose dogs running about, it is not really a very suitable bikejoring location, unless you go very early in the morning, before all the locals bring their dogs out. What can I say, we were relatively new to the sport in those days, and now choose our bikejoring locations with a lot more care, knowledge and forethought.

The woods themselves are described on the Coillte Outdoors website as “part of an old woodland site […] reputed to be the site where the last act of cannibalism took place in this country, hence the name Cnoc na Meas or the Hill of the Banquet.” And despite the popularity of the area, it is (nearly) always an enjoyable and peaceful walk (except when hooligans <blush> are racing through the woods on bicycles being pulled at speed by dogs!).  In the spring the bluebells take over, and it truly looks like a blue carpet has been laid down all through out the wooded area.

We hadn’t really had much chance to get out for a decent long walk in a good while, and whilst Golden Grove offers a pleasant, but short, loop walk, involving forest tracks and local lanes, I wanted a little more than that.  I wanted a good leg-stretcher, so we decided to extend the well-used loop, by diverting to Glasderry Woods halfway around.  I was told of a farm track that would bring you out to the road that led to Glasderry Woods, and a quick look at the OSI Discovery Map No 53 confirmed the existence of the farm track.

It was a bitterly cold day, we had woken up to a crisp white hoar frost.  However, the sun was out and the breeze was slight.  It was a beautiful day for a walk.  From the car park we set off downhill on the road, turning right onto a gravel track a the top of the first rise.  At the end of this gravel track you would usually turn right, along a lone, which would bring you along to the entrance barrier at the top of the woods, with the final section of the unofficial loop bringing you gently down to the car park through the lovely old woodlands.  However, this time, once the gravel track brought us to the lane at the end, we went straight ahead, onto a muddier farm track, which would eventually bring us onto the lanes near Glasderry Woods.

The lanes brought us through mainly uninspiring flat farmland.  Perhaps that’s a little ungenerous.  Flat farmland, is…well it’s flat farmland.  Fields, hedges, barns, flat.  This is not a walk route to give you breathtaking views across the Irish countryside, or hill ascent personal challenges, but by combining Golden Grove with Glasderry Woods, you get a pleasant walk covering a respectable distance, and a picnic area at around the halfway point if you’re so inclined. You get a lake to walk around, and a lovely woodlands stroll to finish off your outing.  Perhaps many people like walking on rural lanes, with hedges you can’t see over, but I found myself checking my map on more than one occasion, sure that we’d ended up on the wrong road, because the lanes seemed endless and I was getting bored. I did chuckle when we passed a tumble-down cottage, with a toilet roll sitting on the windowsill.  I didn’t even want to think about why it might be there, but it had clearly been there a long time, as the ivy was beginning to grow over it.  Fortunately Poison Ivy doesn’t grow in Ireland, so if you are caught short, this toilet roll will still be perfectly safe to use, if a little damp!

Ivy loo rollAfter what felt like a hundred miles of lanes and hedges, we arrived at the car park entrance to Glasderry Woods.  For some reason Coillte has closed the car park to vehicles, but a couple of cars were parked in the entrance way, and we could hear a dog bark by the lake, so we carefully picked our way across the cattle grid, and went into the woods.  Glasderry Woods is home to Lough Roe, also known as Gloster Pond, or even Glasderry Pond (why do these places often have more than one name? #confusing ).  The lake (as I shall refer to it from know on) is an artificial lake and, according to the Coillte Outdoors website, was “created for the [nearby] estate to ensure a plentiful supply of water for the domestic needs, the gardens and recreational needs of the Lloyd family who lived in nearby Gloster House“.  When I first came here with my dogs many years ago it wasn’t easy to walk all the way around the lake, unless you had thigh waders, a long stick to test the depth of the sticky mud and exceptional balance (perhaps aided by your long stick?) so that you didn’t fall into the aforementioned mud after you’d lost one of your boots in the mud suck (yes, I was that woman!).  However, since then a lot of work has been done, presumably by Coillte, to make the worst sections of the path on the far-side of the lake much more walker-friendly, with a bridge and hard-packed gravel pathways.  Some recent work in controlling the invasion of rhododendrons was evident too.

The lake was still frozen solid, so with much childish giggling, we spent a short while skipping pebbles across the frozen surface of the lake, and delighting in the singing and twittering sounds that the ice rewarded us with.

There are several interesting features in and around Glasderry Woods.  and I really would love to know more about both the history of the place, the estate it served and also about the various stone features (bridges, walls etc) you come across as you walk around.  I couldn’t see any evidence of maintenance works being done to the car park area, so I don’t why the car park would be closed?  I hope it is opened again soon as I’ve always found Glasderry Woods to be a peaceful place to bring the dogs, bring a picnic, and just chill out for a while down by the lake.

The downside to Glasderry Woods is that it doesn’t take very long to walk all the way around, and all too soon we were back on the lanes heading back towards Golden Grove.  To add a little excitement to our return journey Dolly slipped badly on a frozen puddle as she jumped back on to the road from a hedge bank. We didn’t see exactly what she did, but it resulted in a very lame dog who hobbled slowly the rest of the way back to the car.  No obvious injury or cuts, so we concluded it must be a twist or sprain.  We did attempt to carry her, not wanting her to limp all the way home, but she’s very heavy and didn’t take too kindly to being carried.  We weighed up whether one of us should stay here with her, whilst the other went to fetch the car, or whether we should just press on.  We decided to carry on and see how she was.  Trying to keep a sore dog warm, whilst waiting on the side of the road on such a bitterly cold day was going to be a last resort.  She was happy to keep moving, albeit a little more slowly.  Then, perhaps in sympathy with Dolly, I also slipped on an icy bit of road surface.  At the time it didn’t feel too bad, my hip felt a little sore and twisted, but I was still mobile and felt able to carry on.  In hindsight I think Dolly and I should have just stayed there as previously planned, whilst the husband went to get the car and come to our rescue. I was unable to stand up or walk about by bed time that evening, and Dolly just curled up in her bed, looking miserable, for the rest of the day!  However, we pressed on, Dolly and I on 3 paws and 1 leg, with the husband trying to ignore the grumbling of his increasingly sore wife; and all our spirits lifted as we came to the final section of the walk, down through Golden Grove woods.

According to Runkeeper, the entire circuit was 6.2 miles (although those lanes make it feel much longer!), which is almost exactly 10km.  I made a mental note that it would be a very handy 10km loop if you were training to run a 10k race…I hasten to add that is not something I’ll be doing any time soon!

Dolly was absolutely right as rain after a couple of days of rest.  It’s taken me a while longer, and my hip is still sore 😦  My brother-in-law gave me a pair of slip-on ice grippers for Christmas…perhaps I should have worn them!  I wonder if they make something similar for dogs?

Keeper Hill is a keeper

Within a few short days of arriving in Ireland, we took a trip down to Limerick to pick up a few furniture bits for our new lodgings, and I will never forget driving down the Nenagh bypass (now incorporated into the M7) and gazing at the hills to our left, with a road map in my lap, trying to identify the landmarks of this new land we were calling home.  As I stared towards what I deduced (correctly) were the Silvermines, the clouds lifted and the summit Keeper Hill appeared behind them in all its glory.  I probably should add here that I was doing all my gazing and landmark research from the safety of the passenger seat, whilst the husband (or “the boyfriend”, as he was known back then) dutifully kept his eyes on the road ahead.  I remember saying that I wanted to go up there one day, which elicited a fairly non-committal grunt from the driver’s seat.  I can hardly blame him for his lack of enthusiasm or belief in my vow; at the time I was even heavier than I am now, was struggling with an undiagnosed thyroid issue, and would have very definitely been the last to be picked for a ‘Lets All Go Up Keeper Hill’ team!

Earlier last year, during a day out in the Silvermines, I was to recall that car journey and that vow, and spending the day with Keeper Hill in full view only served to strengthen my resolve.

But now I can proudly say that I’ve done it!  I’ve walked up to the summit of Keeper Hill, I’ve seen what can be seen, and it was worth every single step!

Many times over the past year, when planning where we were going to walk next, I’d jokingly said “Let’s go up Keeper”, but I’d realistically known in my heart I wasn’t ready, but this time I said it, and I meant it!  The weather forecast was good, and I felt good too.  The distance felt do-able, and I knew that if I just remained determined, I’d get there.  In hindsight, during the planning phase I’d made a fairly important rookie mistake, but I’m here, typing this up, having seen the views from the summit, so it wasn’t a truly terrible blunder, more an error of judgement, a miscalculation if you like!  More about that later, but in the meantime, kudos to anyone who can guess what my slight oversight might have been!

We parked up, took the almost obligatory map-board photo, and double checked the route and the distance.  This pic nearly always makes it on to my blog posts, but also acts as a quick route checking facility during the walk, being easier and faster to look at my phone than dragging the map out of my rucksack.

Immediately out of the car park we headed up hill, and continued heading up hill.  After a mile or so of steady ascent I was delighted that the husband was the first one to take the opportunity to stop for a breather check his boots and adjust his laces.  It gave me the chance to think about how many stops we’d have already taken by now if I’d tried this route a year ago.  We took this opportunity to offer water to Dolly too.

At one point we passed a highly coloured chalybeate stream, the vivid orange colouration indicating the iron rich nature of the water emerging from this spring. 

Chalybeate stream, rich in iron.

Chalybeate stream, rich in iron.

We got to the point in the trail where it was decision time.  We had agreed that we would see how I felt at this point.  One option was to carry straight on, and remain on the Ballyhourigan Woods loop, which would take us around Ballyhourigan woods, and bring us gently back down the hill to the car park.  Or, we could turn left, and carry on towards the summit of Keeper Hill.  All felt good, and from here the flanks of Keeper Hill didn’t look too scary, and so we turned left and enjoyed a very short, but sweet, downhill section, before resuming an uphill trek.

The trail took us upwards, always upwards, but also around the south-west flank of Keeper Hill and would ultimately leave the Slieve Felim Way to take us straight up the southern side.  We passed a few piles of small trees in brown paper sacks, which I assume were baby trees waiting to be planted?  And hopefully not dumped by some tree-clearing fly-tipper!  I can’t imagine fly-tippers would take the time and care to place each small tree into individual sacks.  The views up Keeper Hill actually seemed to get more daunting as we progressed, but all felt good with my legs, feet and lungs, and so we kept going.  It did help immensely the glorious views both upwards and down into the valleys certainly contributed to keeping my spirits lifted, and my legs moving.

This particular waterfall stood out to us, and we can only guess that this the ‘Spout’ as described in the Trail Description.  Alas, there was very little water around but we both decided that we’d love to come up here after heavy rain and see the waterfall in full spate.

The Spout - Keeper Hill

The Spout – Keeper Hill

The trail was fairly level as it wound around the side of the hill, and a lovely, but short, downhill section provided welcome relief to my tired legs.  But all too soon we left the Slieve Felim Way, and the incline got steeper.  I found I needed to stop to rest take in the views around us more often, and I was starting to flag. I found Keeper Hill to be quite deceptive. The incline reduces toward the top making the summit constantly appear to be just over the next ridge.  When you felt you were nearly there, you’d get to the top of that rise and find yet another uphill stretch in front of you.  In a moment of almost perfect timing we met a lovely lady coming down from the summit, who congratulated me on getting this far,  assured me that it wasn’t far to the top now, and that it would all be worth it.  There is nothing so good as an encouraging word to help you pick yourself up and re-focus, so whomever you were, thank you!

You knew you were finally getting to the top when the gentle breeze, which had turned into a stronger breeze, ultimately developed into a persistent wind.  Even on a beautiful clear, sunny day, the strength of the wind surprised me.  The first visual thing to greet us were the telecommunications masts and associated outbuildings, fencing etc, but I tried to ignore those as I took in the glorious views all around us.  We found our way to the trig point, and I scrambled over the boulders to pose for the almost obligatory Trig pic.  I can’t describe the feeling of being on top of a mountain that you’ve wanted to go up for so very long.  Keeper might not be one of Ireland’s ‘biggies’, but at 694 metres (2,277 ft), it’s a creditable No.57 in the Irish Highest Hundred List, the highest point in North Tipperary, and is a mountain that has captivated me ever since I first moved to this country.  Standing atop of it was a massive achievement for me, and I’ll admit I was grinning like a loon.  A sweaty, red-faced loon, but a loon nonetheless!

The photo of me, using the trig point to stay upright, partly due to the strong wind and partly due to my wobbly legs, is in my opinion hideous, so that particular photo remains for my eyes only, but here’s a slighty arty pic of the husband enjoying the views down over the Silvermines from the summit!

Keeper Hill summit

Keeper Hill summit

We found a small spot, out of the wind, to sit down, absorb the views and enjoy a well-earned cup of tea.  We shared a packet of wine gums with Dolly, and celebrated with a ‘Summit’ Snickers bar.  I checked my phone to see our progress on the Runkeeper app, and at this point, after a little bit of head-scratching, it dawned on me that I had made a bit of a silly rookie mistake!  Did you guess what it might have been?  I have been so used to doing looped routes and trails, that when I checked the trail distance for this route, I thought that an 8.2km (5.1 miles) route, incorporating the summit of Keeper Hill would be an admirable hike for someone of my size and fitness level.  It never occurred to me that, this being a linear route, the 8.2km was the distance in one direction.  It had occurred to me a few times, on our way up, that we had walked quite a way to get to the summit but just put it down to my mind playing tricks on me during the sections where I struggled the most.  Oh boy!  That made getting to this summit feel even better!  Although I was a little deflated to see one of those mad hill runners, looking fresh as a daisy,  sprint up to the trig point, touch it, and then sprint back downhill again.  I try not to let them make me feel inadequate, and firmly remind myself to walk my own miles, and not to judge myself against how others do theirs!  But deep down I’ll confess I feel a little jealous of anyone with the fitness levels, and strength of mind, to do something as insane as hill/fell running.

5 miles up meant 5 miles back down, and so we started our descent.  I’m always surprised to find that going downhill is almost as hard work as going up, although it always seems to go quicker. I discovered that the joy of an uphill linear trail is being able to enjoy the views even more on the way down, because you’re no longer concentrating on keeping up enough motivation to get to the top!  However, my legs were getting decidedly wobbly by the time the car park came into view, and for the first time ever my feet were really sore.  However, the achievement and memory of sitting with a cup of tea on top of my favourite mountain, combined with (mostly) coping admirably with the unexpected and unplanned distance that we’d covered, meant that I was still smiling as I finally dropped my rucksack into the back of the car and filled a water bowl for Dolly.

The DOMS hit me by about Tuesday, and Dolly certainly preferred her comfy bed to her daily walk for a couple of days…but Keeper Hill was absolutely worth every step, and I’m lucky that it is relatively local to me. I can’t wait to do it again!

Wet, wild & windy in Portumna Forest

Walked: 25th January 2014

With a free Saturday for both of us, and a pretty awful weather forecast, we tentatively planned a lowland forest walk instead of heading up on to the hills.

Twitter IWN forecast

Portumna Forest Park, a 600 hectare Coillte managed recreation area, is somewhere I’ve previously enjoyed visiting with the dogs, for bikejoring and other dryland mushing exploits, but not a place I’ve been purely for walking.  It is less than 40 minutes drive from here, so I really should make more use of the place!

Portumna sits at the north end of Lough Derg, and is an historic crossing point over the River Shannon between counties Tipperary and Galway.

Portumna Forest Park - Map Board

Portumna Forest Park – Map Board

We had planned to do the Bonaveen Trail (the red route), a 10.5km looped walked around the western part of the forest park, but forestry operations had large sections of the loop closed off for ongoing works.  Undeterred we studied the map boards beside the visitor’s centre, and devised our own modified version of the looped route, which would join up with the Bonaveen Trail at a point outside of the forestry operations area.

A couple of wrong turns, where my usually excellent sense of direction let me down (the husband often calls me ‘Wife-Nav’), and we finally caught up with the correct coloured arrow markers.  On setting out the weather was bitterly cold, with a persistent heavy drizzle; the kind that saturates you almost without you realising it, so Dolly was slightly mortified to be wearing her ‘wet-weather coat’.  Despite being a gundog breed German Shorthaired Pointers don’t typically do well in cold/wet conditions, due to their lean build, short-haired coats and thin skins, and from past experience I know that Dolly can get pretty miserable fairly quickly in these conditions. So the coat went on!  However, in addition to being 100% waterproof and warm, the coat is very light and doesn’t hinder her exuberant progress in any way.

Dolly ready for rain

There were signs for a mini detour to Bonaveen Harbour, which was heavily flooded and, dare I say it, a little disappointing.  Although, perhaps that’s an unfair comment, and there might be more to see when the water levels have receded?  We did spot a small stone building, with a dead tree behind it, which from a certain angle had more than a passing resemblance to Monty Python‘s the Knights of NI, and had me chuckling unashamedly for a while, and annoying the husband with random shouts of ‘Ni!’ during the remainder of our walk…such a child!  Maybe they had finally found their shrubbery?

The weather was mostly kind to us, the drizzle lifted for a while, but inevitably the worst weather hit us whilst we were on the most exposed sections of the loop, along the shoreline of Lough Derg, where we had little or no shelter from the squally showers and gusty winds, and even hailstones at one point.  It was more than a little scary to see and hear small branches coming off the bare trees around us, and we didn’t hang around to admire the lough views, instead there was nothing for it but to put our heads down (Dolly included) and quicken our pace to get back into the relative shelter of the thicker forest.  We were more than slightly alarmed and surprised to see two men in a small row-boat out on the lough, I can’t even imagine how scary that must have been. for them  The waves were really throwing their little boat around, and at one point we lost sight of them altogether.  They were near an island so hopefully they safely made it there for some shelter, to sit out the storm.  I checked online when we got home, and for a few days afterwards, but there were no reports of missing fishermen in local press or RNLI alerts,  so we have to presume they made it home safely.

The trail took us back into the thicker forest, which afforded a little more shelter from the weather, but the cracking of tree boughs, and the occasional thud of falling branches nearby was still unnerving.  We were originally going to divert onto the Rinmaher Trail (green route on the map) and make a big loop of the entire forest park, but the weather really wasn’t pleasant, and so we stayed on the Bonaveen Trail and decided to head back to the car park.  I enjoyed spotting various fungi on our route.  I only wish I knew what half of them were, there were some spectacular formations.

Floods caused a minor diversion (as well as wet boots, socks & trousers!), but gave Dolly the opportunity for a spot of paddling.  I got thoroughly stuck at one point, with nowhere to go but into water up to my knees, so I just had to suck it up and get on with it.  We tried to walk around the flood, but other than retracing our steps completely, there was no easy way around.  So we just thought ‘feck it’ and headed straight through as best we could, much to Dolly’s delight!  Once past the flooded area, we had to negotiate some particularly fierce brambles to rejoin the path.  It was easier to carry Dolly over the thick brambles, which was just lovely after all her paddling.

The beautiful sight of a small herd of fallow deer crossing the path less than 100m in front of us meant that Dolly all but dragged us the last quarter of a mile back to the car park, and made me grateful that we had kept her firmly on her lead!  I think we’d still be out looking for her now if she’d been running free.

I didn’t take too many photos given the inclement weather, and my phone camera’s aversion to damp weather at the best of times.  This seems to have resulted in a remarkably sunny set of photos, taken during the brief moments of sun and/or dry spells.

There was so much more that I wanted to explore, but we were wet and cold, and an afternoon by the fire was a lot more appealing on that day.  However, at just under 6 miles, our visit to Portumna forest Park was an easy and rewarding way to slowly push my miles up and tell my head I can walk further each time.

I’m really looking forward to coming back in better weather, in the hopes of doing the longer route that we had planned.  Oh, and just one more thing to mention, despite the information given on the Irish Trails website, dogs are very welcome!