The world is my gym

Lough Ouler, close-by hidden gem #swim #hike #run #cycle #love

They want to purchase more gym equipment. I cannot deny that exercise is good for you especially if your occupation is otherwise sedentary as is so often the case now-a-days, so I'm not exactly against such purchases. But I may have mentioned once or twice that I find and enjoy my exercise principally in jogging or hiking barefoot or cycling. They want to buy another rowing machine, but we have a lake half a mile down the road and it was only a few months back we got rid of a dinghy because no-one could see a use for it. They want another cycling machine, but I have two bicycles and there are others here, and cyclists come to this area from all around because of its beauty and its relatively quiet roads. We have mountains to climb, forests to explore, a lake-side which is often walk-able, smaller mountain lakes that you can swim in, all within walking distance. They want to buy another bar and weights, but we have many outdoor activities that require arm muscles like stacking logs, digging, mucking out.

With all this so close how could anyone want to spend good money on, or use, imitation exercise machines cooped up in a small room, except possibly in the dead of winter and in the unlikely event of a snow storm?

Instrument of torture

Barefoot Barretstown

New route, 14.3 miles

Ali went shopping so I went running. Poulaphouca, Ballymore, past Barretstown camp, then over the hill at Glenmore and down to the N81, Baltyboys and along the lake shore. A very quick dip - it's getting colder so maybe this will be the last swim of the year - sad. Because I'm not one of these hardy types that will break the ice to take a swim. Lovely poppies, though: I have enjoyed them so much and they have lasted so long.

O little town of Blessington, from Glenmore

Poppies by the lake shore

I love this lake and these mountains

Mullaghcleevaun wild camp barefoot

If time is measured in ticks, I am older. Two weeks ago I had done a barefoot "run" over the nearby mountains Silsean and Moanbane and had complained of waste high heather and shoulder high ferns. During that "run" I had looked longingly at Mullaghcleevaun but time did not permit. Over the next couple of days I extracted several deer ticks and waited to see if there were more or if I had contracted Lyme disease. Thus no more mountain trekking for a while: but two weeks later I appear to still be well and figured this was a long enough embargo so, having carefully consulted the mountain weather forecast I decided at the last moment to do an overnight, but avoiding tall vegetation.  Did I enjoy it? I enjoyed the trekking but the camping bit... I think I prefer a house and a warm bed and home cooked food!

I took sandals with me in case of emergency but did not use them. There are many areas where it is hard to avoid sinking ankle deep, sometimes further, in muddy peat. Barefoot is so much simpler in such cases, although I will admit that some of the grass was quite sharp the feel.

The first part of my track followed my route two weeks ago as far as Silsean. Only now I had a back-pack and that steep ascent from Ballyknockan was hard work. Then I skirted around Moanbane, across Billy Byrne's Gap and thus to Mullaghcleevan Lough. Which is as beautiful a place as you might care to imagine.

Saturday going 9.5 miles, elevation gain 782m

I started out after lunch on Saturday and arrived at my destination a bit before 18:00 hours, set camp, went for a quick swim (as one does) in the lough, phoned home to say I was alive, and cooked "dinner" on Chris's camp stove. Bacon, rice and a stock cube washed down with cider, followed by Irish CDM for pudding.

Arrival detail Cleevaun lough

The detail map shows a bit of the return journey, my Android having decided to reboot just 10 minutes after leaving. The night was fitful - in spite of vast numbers of clothing layers I was cold. Having to get up to relieve myself several times was an accomplishment in itself and didn't help. But eventually dawn arrived.  I finally woke at 05:50 hours when it was just beginning to get light.

Sunday morning return 4.7 miles

After a cosy lie-in till 06:15, I got extricated myself from the sleeping bag, went out and tried to warm up by running in circles. During this exercise of limited success I discovered there was another tent nearby. Strange, I had not seen or heard anyone else.

In order to get home, have a shower and make myself presentable before our Sunday meeting at 10:00 hours I was obliged to break camp by 07:00 hours, so I quickly fried the remaining bacon and stuffed it into a dry crust of bread I had brought for the purpose (next time I must butter the bread) and forced it down with some water. Now ready to leave I first took some photos and discovered that the "tent" was in fact a rock!

Ali thankfully met me as arranged on the road down to Lacken and we made it to the meeting on time. Hence, in the map, the track petering out. So far I haven't found any ticks.

You can enlarge my pictures by clicking on them.

Our house is somewhere over there

The quarry track at Ballyknockan (and me)

Two weeks ago they had hardly started this tree felling 

First sight of the lough

From the beach

My tent quite close to the beach

Better phone signal here, and that's Mullaghcleevaun up there

The next set of pictures were taken on the way back.

Sunday morning - what I had thought was a tent

Sun-rise

Goodbye Cleevaun Lough

First sun 

Mist coming down on Mullaghcleevaun

See the deer on the ridge (click to enlarge)

First sight of our lake

Looking north to TV mast on Kippure

More deer (and deer mean ticks)

No chance of getting lost - I have GPS!

I want Black hill ahead, Sorrel hill to the right

Looking north again

Skirting Black hill I found this handy drainage ditch

Hallmark selfie

Looking back along the ditch

From the road down to Lacken

Perspective

Do you see stones, sky, mountains or just water? It depends on your perspective. Today was fairly still and I was able to capture all four in our lake by holding the camera very close to the surface. Another of my silly childish tricks. But it serves to put off the publishing (or not) of a longer post I have been working on for a while that sometimes seems important to me, and at other times seems banal.

As usual you can enlarge the pictures by clicking on them.

Silsean again

The first day of autumn turned out to be the last day of summer so, after consulting with the dog who promptly lay down as if to say "no run today thanks" I biked to the forestry access to Silsean and then climbed on foot barefoot (same route as before). I still get muddled up between Silsean and Moanbane but I think it was the former...

They have cut down and decimated the forest area so the mossy glens have disappeared - sad but there will be others to find elsewhere. But the climb to the top and the small lakes when you get there are much the same.  There's a great sense of freedom when you are walking on the top of the world.

This lake is about 0.5m deep plus mud

On my last visit this was covered with about 0.2m of water

The cairn at the summit of Silsean

View of home across Blessington reservoir

The decimated forestry area, Silsean in distance

Barefoot Moanbane

The dog has hurt her belly, went to the vet to be cleaned up and antibiotics, so is convalescing for a few days.  Instead of my usual run with her I biked through Valleymount, taking the "Water Hole Bypass" (any suitably adventurous local will figure this out), stopping at the first forestry track on the left past the summit. After removing shoes and top and suitably hiding these and my bike I set off for my very first mountain adventure barefoot.  Moanbane is by no means the highest in the Wicklow Mountains but the view from the top is still stunning.  Someone has kindly built a very smart cairn instead of the former wooden post marking the summit. Today it was clear and I could see to the West the whole of our lake and far, far into the interior of Ireland, and to the East all of the major Wicklow peaks and the sea in the distance.

The barefoot bit worked OK. No need to worry about filling one's shoes with muddy water in the numerous peaty boggy bits. The first part is through forestry area and the route follows what, I suppose, once was a fire break. It is now less than a track, but so, so beautiful.  The floor is covered in mosses with numerous little streams crossing. Because there is still a small gap between the trees here, the sunlight filters through and highlights the many greens.

Once I broke out of the forested area it was rough grass, moss and heather underfoot. The most prickly was last year's heather, but quite manageable providing you check where you put your feet.

Some might call it a hill.  But my father said anything over 1000' was a mountain and on that basis it is a mountain. At the top, just past the cairn aforementioned, there is a lake. "Lake" is an overstatement - it is about 10m x 30m and not more than a few inches deep. That's the water on the top. Underneath it is squishy peaty muddy stuff which is nice to wade through. My love of mud predates and perhaps is a precursor to Alison's recent discovery of healing clay.

Waterworks and Watercress

I went to a school in Winchester - more about that in a later blog maybe.  In a geography lesson the question was asked where was the watercress 'capital' of the UK?  I had not a clue that it was my hometown Alresford!  Nowadays a major attraction in Alresford is the Watercress Line.

I have never been too partial with green food with the possible exception of peas and lime ice cream.  Watercress as a food item has thus passed me by.  But the watercress beds in Alresford were quite another matter.  That they were used to grow watercress in was to me more of a nuisance and at best a bye-product.

The beds that my past were entwined with are along the Little Weir (extension of Mill Hill) and are visible from Google Maps Streeview and in the pictures below (not my own).

These two pictures are both recent.  They are looking back from very close to the first ram pump location (which is behind the camera) in my previous post and looking towards Mill Hill and Alresford proper.  The Great Weir is on the left.  The footpath to the right is the Little Weir.  The beds are demarcated by low concrete walls and fed from the river on the left.  Note the gap in the foreground of the top picture - the groves either side allow wooden slats to be inserted to control the water flow.  The amazing thing is that these concrete walls - and that gap in particular - look exactly as I remember them some 50 years ago.  We (my sister and I) used to jump over the gaps and wall along the walls.  It was something one had to do every time one was taken on this particular walk.

Thankfully the owners generally turned a blind eye to our escapades.  Of course we were careful to respect their property.  It has always been my principle to respect another person's property when I trespass on it, and I firmly hold to this day that trespassing is not an offence unless damage is done. My understanding is that such behaviour is upheld in English law. If a land owner expressly wants privacy then it is their duty to erect a suitable child-proof fence. It is of course foundational to the working of the web of public rights-of-way (footpaths, tracks, bridlepaths) that criss-cross the English countryside sometimes to the aggravation of the landowner.  This principle is another reason why I would find living in America so difficult where, it appears, the landowner has the right to kill you simple because you accidentally set a foot on his land. Here in Ireland the attitude is subtly different - for insurance reasons and because apparently the Irish will sue at any opportunity, land owners are very wary of trespassers.  If you ask permission to cross a neighbour's land the answer will invariably be "no - but if you hadn't asked then it would have been alright".  Therefore the thing to do is to make sure no one sees you trespassing, and certainly not to draw attention to it, and then nobody will mind at all.   Here in Ireland there are also far fewer rights-of-way across people's land and I find this hard: I long for the English system. Thankfully I live close enough to the Wicklow mountains where you can generally walk freely.

Coming back to the watercress beds - some of the gaps had a wooden plank "bridge" over them and I can distinctly remember when I found the owners had tacked some new looking chicken wire over the plank to give some grip and thinking what a good idea this was, although also thinking it was an overkill because wasn't part of the fun being wary of the slippery surface?

On one occasion my grandfather 'Ginty' was taking me on this walk "round the river" - my sister was not, I think, with me on this occasion.  I did my usual wall expedition and fell off and drenched my (short) trousers and must have come back to Ginty wailing, for I remember him calmly telling me not to worry - I was not hurt, I had only made my 'pants' wet.  Obviously I was expecting him to be angry, for I remember immediately becoming calm and forever after I have blessed him for the way he dealt with the situation.