​​Ireland has fourteen peaks standing over 900 meters. I set  myself the challenge of standing on top of all these mountains. I had reached twelve of the fourteen mountain summits, just two more left to do. The two remaining peaks waiting for me were Beenkeragh, Ireland’s second highest mountain (1010 metres) and the Bones (959 metres). The Coomloughra Ridge walk would take in these last two summits.

​

I would need a guide to help me negotiate this climb. I had someone in mind as I made my preparations. John Fitzgerald is a very experienced walker and knows these mountains like the back of his hand. He is great fun and a very relaxed companion. I wrote to John asking him if he would accompany me on this walk. John wrote back accepting my invitation and could only offer one date in the period before Easter, Saturday March 31st. He couldn’t have chosen a better date. Four years before I was in Saint Vincent’s hospital on this day and began the treatment that had turned my health and life around.

​​

The Coomloughra Ridge is a worthy equal to its counterpart, the Eastern Ridge. These two ridges make up the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks with Carrauntoohil at the centre. This magnificent walk encompasses seven summits: Ireland’s three highest peaks, five summits over 900 metres and a knife-edged ridge walk over the Bones that is as dangerous as it is dramatic. 

 

The day arrived and the weather had changed. For the past week and a half County Kerry and the west of Ireland had been bathed in sunshine and blue skies with very little rain. Today, as the forecasters had predicted, there would be rain, cloud and a marked drop in temperature. It would be even colder once we were up in the mountains. We met with Simon Stewart, founder of the MountainViews website. Simon would be keeping us company for part of the walk. John and Simon would be taking GPS readings on some of the peaks for an extensive mapping exercise that MountainViews was undertaking. We would be walking in a clockwise direction. Skregmore would be our first summit, then on to Beenkeragh, Carrauntoohil and then finally, the Caher ridge.

​

The walk up the track to the valley entrance is fairly steep. My legs felt strong and the coordination in my movements was smooth. My meds were working perfectly and I was happy with this state of affairs. I felt relaxed and confident as we climbed up the slopes leading to Skregmore. 

​

At 600 metres we could not see more than a few feet in front of us. Cloud cover was blocking out both sun and sky. The wind had increased and there was a marked drop in temperature. Winter conditions prevailed now. The three giants, Beenkeragh, Carauntoohil and Caher were completely invisible to the eye.

​

We passed the first lough, Iochtair at the western entrance to the valley. We then crossed the stream to start ascending the northern face of the Coomloughra Ridge. We began the climb up the slope a little further on heading for Skregmore, where John was going to take some GPS measurements. This, our first summit of the day, stands at 848 metres following a 500 metre hike from the valley floor to the shoulder of Skregmore.

​

All I could see was mist when I looked around. The higher we climbed the more like winter it felt, the weather conditions had turned positively arctic. We donned our coats, hats and gloves then we carried on in the face of an icy biting wind that was gathering in strength. From ten days of glorious sunshine, we now had to endure the other extreme.

 

John and Simon have extensive knowledge and experience of the MacGillycuddy’s Reeks and both were armed with GPS equipment. I had my map and compass, so I could at least look the part. After John had taken his measurements, we carried on to the next invisible peak, Skregmore West Top (851 metres). Simon was leaving us now to head due east to Cnoc Broinne and then on to the Hag's Tooth. We would meet up with him in a few hours on the Hydro-Electric path just by Lough Iochtair, the little lake we had passed on entering the valley. We headed south, south east towards Beenkeragh and the Bones, my final pair of 900 metre plus summits. I followed John down then up the ascent to Beenkeragh, an uphill pull of about 200 metres. I could have been standing anywhere as the mist smothered the light completely. I felt a great surge of joy when we reached the rocky top of Beenkeragh, standing tall at 1010 metres. 

​

The final peak, the Bones now lay ahead of us on the ridge connecting Ireland’s two tallest mountains. The ridge is one kilometre in length. This is what the guidebooks have to say about it; “You’ll be pleased to hear that you don’t have to climb over this knob, which would be very difficult… One word of warning: the route is not for those of a nervous disposition. It is best not to travel along the top, but to descend slightly and follow the sheep tracks.” 

The ‘knob’ is an exposed and extremely narrow knife-edge section with precipitous drops on either side. You fall here and the next stop is not the hospital, but the Pearly Gates or the Gates of Hell, depending on your conduct in your recently terminated life. John has a dry wit and in a soft and gentle tone with just a hint of irony, said this next bit was going to be interesting….

​

I had walked with John on the Eastern Ridge when I was ‘off’ with my meds. I have a name for this state - ‘85%’ which is when I have 85% control of my body movement and symptoms. Any lower and I would not take the risk of being up in the mountains. John had seen me cross a ridge at 85%. He had also seen me at 100% and witnessed my competence and confidence once my meds were working properly.     

 

He never showed any doubt that I could, and would, take the 'knob' route over the Bones and not the less ambitious sheep track. We just carried on making our way over the Bones. We stopped on the top for him to take some more GPS readings and a couple of photographs for the album.
​

We moved on to the slopes of Carrauntoohil. The path became broader and it was an easy climb up to the summit. The weather was changing. The mist was clearing and was soon to break up and reveal blue skies. The descent was via the Caher Ridge, passing Caher and Caher West Top bringing the count of 900 summits to five for the day. The weather had now turned sunny with blue sky revealing the ridges and summits we had just visited in zero visibility. We followed the ridge most of the way down until it met the boulder field and made our way to the meeting point by the little lough to wait for Simon to join us.

​

Sitting in the bar that evening, John told me that I was the first Brit he had taken with him over the Bones who had not needed to be roped (a safety measure) and had not resorted to crawling on their hands and knees in trepidation and fear. He then added that he knew I would take it in my stride and manage it. I asked him why he had such confidence in me. He replied, 

“Robin, you are quite mad and I like that- you would make a good Irishman!”

I don’t think there are many people who feel relaxed enough to go walking over a narrow mountain precipice with a relative stranger who has Parkinson’s. Luckily for me, John is one of them. 

​

I felt a great sense of achievement. I had now stood atop all fourteen summits over 900 metres. This seems extraordinary to me now as I sit here at my computer tapping out my stories. It did not at the time though. My thirst for the mountains gave me the energy and the confidence that made it a natural and integral part of my life.