So, a ramble up Sorrel Hill, with the brother, the other day. A little less gruelling than our last outing. Cold and a fog blew in for a few minutes but otherwise quite pleasant. A friend of mine told me recently that two years of rain seems to have kept people off the mountains and I believe he’s right. Many of the smaller trails were overgrown and difficult to follow. Larger trails were muddy and boggy - although that’s not really anything unusual in these parts.
I figured out how to mark a route on Google Maps so here’s our Sorrel walk. Beautiful views over the reservoir and into the Wicklow mountains proper. Rather typically, we had both forgotten our cameras so I was stuck with the crappy one on my phone. I won’t bore you with landscapes. Instead, have a skull (they’re oddly common in the mountains). I believe it’s a sheep but my ovine physiology isn’t what it once was.
And, the highlight of any outdoor activity: a brew. Boiling up some water on a little alcohol-stove burner (with improvised windguard to save carrying the whole thing around) for a cuppa. Scalding tea and lovely sarnies with a nice view - who could ask for more.
If you look carefully, you can see my reflection in the teapot. Steady, ladies. Steady.
And down the tangled, boggy glen.
So Monday should have been a reasonable stroll of a couple of kilometers and an easy climb to get back into hiking shape. Park on the Military Road in the middle of the Wicklow Mountains, an easy walk to the top of Fancy Mountain (really, that’s what it’s called - also known as Luggala). Spot of view-looking from the top of the cliffs over Lough Tay and back down. That was the plan.
Couple of issues though.
Firstly, it was foggy. Really, really foggy. Proper pea-souper stuff. As there’s a trail of sorts to the top, I wasn’t too worried. It made for pretty poor viewing once we (the brother and I) got there though. Then, the greenhorn decides that he’d like to take a stroll down to the brook - in the valley to the southwest - and follow that back to the car. Reluctantly, I agreed. This was a mistake.
Now the fog made things difficult, but we were armed with compass and map so that was ok. The map was pretty much redundant as there were no landmarks to be seen but navigation back to the road was the easy part (any bearing roughly northwest would do it). The hard part was clambering over and through the heather and gorse and marsh and bog. Holes abounded - real ankle-breaking terrain. At one point, one of the brother’s legs disappeared down a hole and didn’t stop until his arse hit the ground. Wet boot - nasty. Glad it wasn’t me.
We made very slow progress. Stopped at a giant rock for a brew and a sambo. Then kicked off again. Eventually, we made it back to the road and the car. Tiring day, but at least the brother is unlikely to ever want to leave tarmac again. Looking over our route on the map, I’d estimate we spent three hours covering about five kilometers. Slow going. Good though. I enjoyed it immensely, although the fog didn’t clear in all the time we were there.
Here’s the area on Google Maps. Rough route: Car parked at A. Walked southeast to that lump overlooking the lake. Then a descent southwest before a scramble back northwest again. Not far - just difficult.
