Great Mountains: MacGillycuddy’s Reeks

When I first started researching the mountains of Ireland I soon came across a range that goes by the bizarre name of MacGillycuddy’s Reeks, which is a name that is just too fabulous to ignore. I was instantly smitten just by the name and organised a holiday to Ireland in 2005 to visit this range of hills in County Kerry that includes most of the highest peaks in Ireland. I had bought the Cicerone guidebook, “The Mountains of Ireland” by Paddy Dillon, which directed me to the car park beside Kate Kearney’s Cottage on my first full day in Country Kerry. A good path zigzags up the hillside before depositing me onto the broad, boggy ridge north of the easternmost peak on the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks ridge, Cnoc an Bhráca. Another peak, Cnoc na dTarbh also known as the Bull, sits behind and I obediently followed Paddy Dillon’s direction to contour the side of Cnoc an Bhráca to bag Cnoc na dTarbh, but this is a waste of time as the real attention is on the ridge that leads over MacGillycuddy’s Reeks. When I was there in 2005 I had clear views all around including across the flat land at the head of Dingle Bay towards the hills of the Dingle Peninsula, but it was west along the serrated ridge where my eyes were fixed.

Great mountains walks are ridge walks and a great one starts from Cnoc an Bhráca dipping briefly before climbing stony ground to the top of Cruach Mhór, which is distinctive due to a small grotto built at the summit that houses a small statue of the Virgin and Child. This is the first peak on the ridge above three thousand feet and beyond this point the ridge is particularly rough with some challenging scrambling required before the top of The Big Gun is reached. In 2005 the sunshine that I had enjoyed up to this point was obliterated as thick cloud enveloped the ridge robbing me of any views for the rest of the walk. A narrow arête continues the ridge to the highest point in the Eastern Reeks, Cnoc na Péiste, anglicised as Knocknapeasta. This is the fourth highest mountain in Ireland and the other three are not far away. When I was there in 2005 I was walking in clouds down a grassy ridge that had now widened providing me with a welcome rest after the rocky challenge and delights along the narrow ridge over The Big Gun. The ridge passes over Maolán Buí with little variation in height before reaching Cnoc an Chuillinn where a steep descent leads to the grassy mound of Cnoc na Toinne.

Another descent brings you to the lowest point on the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks ridge where most people, me included, would decide that they have had enough for the day, but the way down from there is known as the Devil’s Ladder and is a horrible gully full of loose stones and dirt. The difficulty is so legendary it is probably not as bad as feared and there are far worse places, but it is discouraged and the alternative is a zigzag path that climbs the northern slopes of Cnoc na Toinne, but since most people will have their eyes on Carrauntoohil the necessary re-ascent puts most people off this route. The western section of MacGillycuddy’s Reeks is best done from the west as I did in 2005 following Paddy Dillon’s directions starting from the road at the foot of a concrete track that climbs to Lough Eighter. This is the start of the Coumloughra Horseshoe, which is one of the greatest mountain walks in either Britain or Ireland. Taken in a clockwise direction the first peak is Cnoc Íochtair and points towards the ridge over Skregmore. In 2005, I emerged from the mist at this point into bright sunshine and the sight of a thermal inversion where clouds filled the valleys and hills appeared above the clouds like islands.

Religiously following Paddy Dillon’s directions I made my way towards the side peak of Knockbrinnea whose only virtue is excellent views of the Eastern Reeks, but the earlier valley fog had now lifted to obscure my view of the peaks. Returning to the proper mountains the horseshoe continues to the top of Beenkeragh, the second highest point in Ireland, and a proper mountain in every sense of the word. From the small rocky top a deliciously narrow ridge leads across the gap to the steep slopes of Carrauntoohil eventually reaching the large metal cross that sits upon the highest point in Ireland. The clouds that had plagued me earlier in my walk in 2005 had now gone and I was afforded with tremendous views particularly across the Eastern Reeks that I had walked over a couple of days before now clearly showing the peaks that had been thick with cloud when I had passed over them. Eventually I left the top of Carrauntoohil to walk along the narrow ridge that leads to Caher, the second highest peak in Ireland, but not before sitting on the grass at the bottom of the saddle with my legs stretched out towards the edge of the cliffs above Coumloughra with the small lakes in the valley below pointing towards the mountains of the Dingle Peninsula in the distance.

The final peak on the chain of MacGillycuddy’s Reeks is Caher, the third highest mountain in Ireland, and has a fine ridge with several tops, the eastern being the highest. When I was there in 2005 mist came down at this point obscuring my view, but I was still able to appreciate the walk over this great mountain. After passing over the western top long slopes took me all the way down to Lough Eighter, but before leaving I was treated to the fabulous view of the Coumloughra Horseshoe as the skies cleared again revealing the gorgeous view of the narrow ridge that circles this short valley. MacGillycuddy’s Reeks is an awesome range of mountains of sustained delight from Cruach Mhor at the start of the Eastern Reeks to the horseshoe ridge walk that includes the three highest mountains in Ireland. I have only been to this fabulous range of mountain once, but when I return to Ireland it surely must be a target.

MacGillycuddy's Reeks

I bought my first digital camera just before going to the Republic of Ireland for the first time and the picture below is one of the first pictures I took. I had been drawn to the area by the fabulous name of this range of hills in County Kerry, MacGillycuddy's Reeks. This picture was taken on a walk around the Coomloughra Horseshoe and is described here, however the hills pictured were not covered on that walk but two days earlier on this walk and shows the high ridge of the Eastern Reeks.

Brandon Mountain

Friday 16th September 2005

This was my last walk in Ireland, and I ended on a corker. The weather, once again, had played into my hands providing me with clear views across the mountains all day. Despite a cold, stiff breeze the weather was perfect, in fact, it was excellent walking weather. I had been really lucky with the weather throughout the week; I suppose it was the luck of the Irish! Driving across the Dingle Peninsula I parked in Cloghane and set off along a side road, climbing up the side of the hill to Faha, where there is a car park. 

I continued to climb across the hillside following the clearly marked Pilgrim’s Path where white metal posts guided me across the grassy southern slopes of the ridge and around a hill into a rocky cove with Locha Chom an Chnoic topping a long chain of small lakes. With considerable glee, I clambered among the rocks at the head of the cirque and, passing the small loch, began to climb steeply up the cliff face ahead of me. The excellent path zigzagged up onto the top of the main Brandon ridge where I was rewarded for my effort with superb views across the Dingle Peninsula. Climbing up onto the ridge southwards brought me quickly to the summit of Brandon Mountain where the views were even more impressive. Nothing can describe the breathtaking views that I saw across the whole Dingle Peninsula from where I was standing. I was really going to miss this, I didn’t want to leave Ireland!

After lunch I headed south along the ridge, keeping as close to the edge as I dared (which at times was not very close!). Continuing along the ridge I came to the foot of, and began climbing, Brandon Peak, and once I had assailed the top I continued along the narrowing ridge to Gearhane, after which the only way forward was steeply down the hill. As I descended I reflected sadly that I was now leaving the last hill of the last walk of my week in Ireland. I always feel a little sad when I start descending after a good day's walk in the hills, but on my last day in Ireland this was doubly sad. I love hill walking and I love a good day's walk on rocky hills. I always hate having to leave them behind. After crossing an often boggy, grassy plain I descended further to the col with Ballysitteragh (which I had climbed the day before, though in considerably worse weather). Turning left I joined the track that zigzags into the valley and then walked along the road for three or four miles all the way back into Cloghane. This was a slow end to a great walk, but it failed to dampen my feelings at the end of a great walk. I'd had some good walks in Ireland during this week, and I hope it won't be too long before I return.

Ballysitteragh

Thursday 15th September 2005 

This walk was a total wash out. I drove over to the Dingle Peninsula in the morning with varying degrees of rain all the way. In Dingle I decided to head up to the Connor Pass and see what the weather was like. It was raining and cloudy, but because I can't resist doing a walk I headed westwards over Beenabrack along a grassy, boggy ridge up to Ballysitteragh. And then after lunch I walked all the way back. Or at least I tried and strode confidently out across the hillside and down the hill. Eventually I thought I wasn’t recognizing the landscape that I was passing (such as there was) even though I supposed to be returning by the way that I had come and when I got my compass out I realised that I had been heading down the long, southern slopes instead of east back along the ridge. I was frustrated with myself and climbed back up the hill almost all the way up to the summit of Ballysitteragh before I could turn right and proceed, now correctly, through the low cloud, wind and rain along the ridge and back to the car. The most I saw throughout the whole walk was the northern edge of the ridge which falls steeply to the loch filled Cloghane valley. There were no views to be seen except murkily at the car park and the ground underfoot was very wet and boggy. It rained heavily and the wind blew strongly almost all the way so I got soaked! Two hours of walking in this was enough to put me off for the rest of the day! I drove back to Dingle and wandered the streets for an hour before driving around the picturesque Slea Head to the Dunquin Youth Hostel where I hoped I would have better weather for my last day's walk in Ireland the following day.

The Coumloughra Horseshoe

Wednesday 14th September 2005 

What started out as pretty awful weather for this walk turned out to be an absolute scorcher of a day in absolutely stunning weather. The day had started overcast with very low cloud that gave a fine mist to everywhere. After parking at Breanlee I headed steeply up the hillside on a concrete track and soon I was into the clouds. After a turn to the right the track levelled off and moved across the hillside over varying surfaces and around the hillside to cross a stream and follow it to a dam. With the weather warming as the sun tried to break through the clouds I crossed the dam and started to climb steeply up the hillside through heather and over rocks. Halfway up to the western top of Skregmore I got a shock as I looked to my right and saw a mountain top poking through the clouds. Within minutes more mountains revealed themselves to me as the clouds continued to break with blue sky soon appearing above me. 

Eagerly I continued to climb the steep slope, wearing myself out as I rushed up onto the hilltop. Before me was a thermal inversion with dense clouds filling the valleys and clear blue skies overhead. With great enthusiasm I made my way along the ridge towards the central top of Skregmore while gazing out over the clouds and marvelling at the Brocken Spectres that could be seen on the clouds far below. I had always heard about these rainbow-like optical illusions but never before had I seen one for myself. I felt very privileged. After passing over Skregmore I passed Beenkeragh on its north edge and headed across to the minor top of Knockbrinnea. I was following the walk as detailed in Paddy Dillon’s “The Mountains of Ireland” which attempts to visit every mountain and top above two thousand feet in Ireland. The consequence of this was that insignificant tops like Knockbrinnea were being bagged, however this one afforded me with stunning views across Hags Glen and towards MacGillycuddy’s Reeks which were appearing behind the lifting clouds. Most stunning of all was the sight of the cross atop the highest mountain in Ireland, Carrauntoohil, surrounded by a sea of clouds. 

After Knockbrinnea had been bagged I headed back across to Beenkeragh, the second highest mountain in Ireland, climbing steeply over the rocks up to the summit. While eating my lunch the clouds continued to lift from the valleys with the views changing with each passing moment. After eating I climbed down from the top and headed across the narrow, exposed ridge to Carrauntoohil. This was an exciting and thrilling crossing, especially as I tried to keep to the top of the ridge as much as possible. The ridge starts quite easily but later gets quite technical with some rather tough scrambling necessary around a small top on the ridge. It was great fun to climb over and I really enjoyed every moment of it. With the views getting better and better as the clouds lifted and crossing exciting, narrow ridges this was quickly becoming a very good mountain walk. 

Once the ridge was crossed I headed up to the top of Carrauntoohil, the highest hill in Ireland, where the views were quite simply amazing. Only after I had had enough of the views did I head towards the southern ridge of the Coumloughra Horseshoe, across to Caher. While enjoying the narrow, if simplistic ridge I was frustrated by a mist that was now drifting in off the sea. The mist fortunately didn't last very long, but it had done its worst in obstructing my views while I was on Caher. With no more tops left I resignedly began the long descent down to the bottom of the valley. The mist cleared while I was descending and by the time I was at the valley floor the sun had come back out to reveal impressive views of the whole horseshoe ridge. The last section of the walk involved a boggy crossing back to the dam before I could finally follow the track back to the road. This was a truly great walk, in great weather.

Tomies Mountain and the Gap of Dunloe

Tuesday 13th September

The weather was the biggest factor on this walk, but you couldn't say that it was really bad as it was just windy! Parking up at Kate Kearney's Cottage again I went back down the road, over a bridge, up a track on the right into a field with horses in it and up onto the open hillside. Ahead of me now was a tough trek through heather, bracken and gorse over an ever steepening, pathless terrain towards the hill above the Tomies Rock. This was a long, hard slog that never seemed to end, but eventually I reached the cairn at the top of a 568m top only to find that the wind had picked up markedly. When I tried to cross to the foot of Tomies Mountain I found that I could barely stand let alone walk up the path. In an attempt to shelter from the wind I moved around to the lee of the mountain, climbing up its northern face to the summit. However, any further progress south from the summit towards Purple Mountain proved to be impossible with a wind that was so strong that I couldn't move an inch from the cairn; any attempt to head into the wind was an exercise in sheer futility. I quickly realised that I would have to abandon the walk and return to the car by the way I had come, so despondently I began to descend, now with the wind behind me, back down the steep hill from Tomies Mountain all the way to Kate Kearney's Cottage.

After lunch in the car I headed up the Gap of Dunloe along the road, walking through stunning mountain scenery and past many lakes, but constantly fighting the wind as I climbed. My main thought as I made my way up the hill was that it was a shame that a road had been built through such stunning scenery. Now any idiot in a car can drive up there. There is a sign near Kate Kearney's Cottage asking people not to drive up, but from what I saw a lot of people just don't take any notice, which is just typical of some people. Despite the cars, this was still a spectacular walk through a great part of Ireland. Once at the top I turned around and walked all the way back down which I didn’t mind in the least as it gave me a chance to enjoy the fabulous scenery again, this time with the wind behind me. As I was driving to the Climber's Inn, where I would be overnighting for the next couple of days, the heavens opened. I don’t mind it raining after a walk, just so long as it’s clear by the following day. The weather conditions I encountered on this walk were rather unique. Despite sunny weather I had to abandon my walk due to the weather, which just goes to show that there’s more to the weather than whether it’s raining or not. In spite of the shortened walk I ended up doing a fabulous walk up the Gap of Dunloe.

MacGillycuddy's Reeks

Monday 12th September 2005 

This was a much longer walk than the previous days and it was over challenging terrain in changing weather conditions. I was starting from Kate Kearney's Cottage, which is a tourist-haven cum pub/restaurant at the foot of the Gap of Dunloe. I started by walking up the road towards the Gap before veering off to the right up a very good path that zigzags up the hillside with more of the spectacular scenery revealed with every turn. When I reached the top of the ridge the view across MacGillycuddy's Reeks could plainly be seen ahead of me with Carrauntoohil standing proud at the end of the high ridge, unfortunately it didn't take long for the clouds to obliterate Carrauntoohil with the rest of the ridge quickly following suit; it was going to be one of those days! 

With all trace of a path gone I made my way across the boggy plain to the foot of Cnoc an Bhráca, jumping across the wide bogs in my way. Just as I began the ascent I realised that I had lost my sunglasses, which had been in my pocket (the sun had already disappeared behind the clouds!). Despondently I made my way back to the bogs and remembered my first day in the Lake District three years before when I lost my glasses on Loughrigg. When my search failed to locate them I dejectedly made my way back to Cnoc an Bhráca until suddenly I came across them lying in the grass. It was unbelievable that I hadn't seen them when going back to the bog! With great relief I made my way back towards Cnoc an Bhráca just as the clouds began to lift in front of me. Everyone was happy! 

Instead of going straight up to the top of Cnoc an Bhráca I followed the route recommended by Paddy Dillon in his book “The Mountains of Ireland” by contouring the eastern slopes to make for the top behind, Cnoc na dTarbh. With hindsight I wish I'd missed this out as it's not a very big hill but I had to put a considerable amount of effort into getting to it before returning to Cnoc an Bháca. Paddy Dillon’s routes are designed in order to visit every mountain above two thousand feet in Ireland, even insignificant tops like Cnoc na dTarbh. Once I reached the top of Cnoc an Bhráca I was really weary from my exertion, probably due to not eating enough beforehand for such a strenuous walk. I felt much better after eating a small snickers bar so I headed off along the main ridge past a dip and up the steep rocky ridge to my first three thousand footer on Ireland, Cruach Mhór. The views from this vantage point were awesome in the bright sunshine so I had my lunch as I prepared myself for the most difficult part of the ridge. I traversed the rocky ridge making my way across to the Big Gun, scrambling around and over large rocky obstacles on the way. Keeping as near to the top of the ridge as I dared, I reached the summit and prepared for the next section before descending to a col. The ascent took me along a narrow rocky ridge all the way up to Cnoc na Péiste and included plunging into the clouds that had been coming up from the south. I tried to stay on top or at least visit the top of the ridge frequently, but eventually the scrambling became too difficult and I had to abandon it in favour of an easier path that crosses the left side of the ridge. This was still an exciting ridge, almost an edge, and I was disappointed when the summit of Cnoc na Péiste finally emerged through the clouds. 

The most difficult section of the ridge was now over and I was at the highest point on the walk with a relatively easy grassy ridge ahead of me, but since that would have been too easy, even with the clouds obstructing any views, the wind picked up and necessitated the donning of my cagoule for the remainder of the walk. I continued to walk along the ridge passing over Maolán Buí­ and Cnoc an Chuillinn before descending steeply to a col with a rather non-descript grassy mound ahead of me (Cnoc na Toinne). I followed a path that crossed the southern flanks to reached what I assumed was the summit, but since there was nothing to be seen, being in the clouds, I have no way of knowing whether I was right! With the last hill of the day behind me I descended the narrow grassy ridge down to the foot of Carrauntoohil and the top of the Devil's Ladder. 

I was leaving Carrauntoohil for another day so I began the arduous descent down the Devil's Ladder to Hag's Glen through the badly eroded dirt at the top and down the scree slope lower down all the way to the valley floor. After all I'd heard about this descent I was expecting worse, but except for the initial bit at the top, which was very bad, the scree was pretty much standard fare and once off the movable stuff I was skipping and jumping down with carefree abandon. At the bottom a clear track beside the Gaddagh River led me to the road-end where now ahead of me was a couple of hours of road walking as I made my way back to Kate Kearney's Cottage. A lift by a fellow walker after I had already walked ½ of the way alleviated some of the tedium and hastened the end of what was becoming a very long walk. Despite the lengthy end and the later clouds this was a fabulous walk over some truly great mountains.

Mangerton Mountain

Sunday 11th September 2005 

I was in Ireland for a week walking in County Kerry over the highest mountains in Ireland including the fabulously named MacGillycuddy’s Reeks. After flying to Shannon Airport the previous afternoon, the following morning I drove (in a hired car) over to Kerry and through Killarney. I parked at a viewpoint near Tooreencormick (a battlefield site) on a minor road off the N71 with my target for the day, Mangerton Mountain, clearly in sight across the moorland in the sunny weather. Walking to the end of the road, I headed off along a track that followed the Finoulagh River up the hillside; although boggy at first the path improved as the views across the Killarney National Park and MacGillycuddy's Reeks revealed themselves. Eventually I came across an old broken wall and followed it's boggy course straight up the hill onto the ridge that overlooks the Devil's Punch Bowl. With most of my hard climbing over I was now able to enjoy myself as I walked up to the north top of Mangerton before returning to the ridge straight up onto the broad plateau of Mangerton Mountain. After the dramatic northern cliff that overlooks a couple of lochs, the flat boggy summit was a bit of a let down. Although the awesome-looking hills of MacGillycuddy’s Reeks could be seen, hazy in the distance, the plateau rather spoilt the view. After returning to the relatively bog-free northern edge I proceeded east around the top of Horses Glen towards Stoompa. This somewhat arduous moorland crossing brought me to the rock-strewn summit, where I satisfyingly found a splendid cairn on top of a hill, which was much better than the radio mast on Mangerton! 

Any trace of a path now evaporated as with quite a bit of difficulty I descended the steep, heathery and stony slopes of Stoompa. At one point I completely missed my footing and literally went head over heels! Thankfully I survived to tell the tale and all that remained for me was a tiring and frustrating moorland crossing below Lough Garagarry to the outward path. This was a very challenging section of the walk because I had to get through pathless tracts of heather, bracken and gorse, and I also had a river to cross: the Owgarriff River, which had just enough stones in it to prevent me getting my feet wet. Then when I was almost on the path I came across a fence that was blocking my way; the only way around it was to follow the fence back up the hill and across the Finoulagh River, so it was with considerable relief when I finally arrived at the path and returned to the road and back to my car. Alright, not MY car, but the one I was using during this holiday. The effect on me was the same whomever the car belongs to. I was thankful to be back at the car after a very tiring walk in very warm weather.