Outdoor Odysseys

Into 2025

There was a time when I ensured that the start of a new year and the anniversary of my setting up this place got marked with a piece like this one. That lapsed over the years. Other distractions took hold, and the marking of these occasions felt less important.

Yesterday, I reflected on the year just gone, with all its ambles along Celtic and French trails. This time, I try to look ahead while bearing in mind that much is uncertain. After a break to sort out matters in Ireland, my freelance business needs to be put back in operation; its technology needs an upgrade too. That likely will mean less time for other things.

Even so, some things always need to progress; it is always a matter of prioritisation and balance. Working from Ireland might become a possibility, for instance. That would allow Irish explorations to continue, recognising that one base is not enough and that staying somewhere like Galway has its uses.

At one point, I toyed with a Pacific northwest escapade in the U.S. until I realise that some added work was required for assembling such an excursion. Piecing together a trip featuring both Seattle and Portland (the one in Oregon) sounded like a task for a travel agency or concierge. While 2020 may have begun with weeks of research, that is five years ago now. Thus, some undistracted time is in order to piece things together. Until I see how the U.S. goes, that will wait for now. The main thing that stalled it last year was the need to attend to other matters that are now in hand.

Canada comes to mind as another option for a transatlantic undertaking. Toronto is coming to mind here, and I am checking out the hiking possibilities for a non-driving enthusiast like myself. The early signs are encouraging, so looking into accommodation and travel arrangements could be a next step there. New AI tools are proving their worth as I ponder any prospects.

A few days based in Inverness would allow for something closer to home to go with any Irish hiking. Other ideas could emerge yet, and continental Europe has its share of options. Non-flying ones could work: train travel could return me to Switzerland after a long time, for instance. Norway is another place that I would like to see again, either by spending more time in Oslo or going further north. With enough time, both could be part of the same trip.

Time for idea gathering would add to the above, since things are very open at the moment. Many years begin like that for me. The serendipity of life adds to its variety, so we should plan that out of existence. First, I need to get used to dividing my time between two places before adding in others on a temporary basis. In some ways, that has been done before, so it cannot be ruled out now. For now, though, I hope that 2025 brings you some good things as counterpoints to the challenges that no one can avoid.

2024: A year of Celtic trails and French summits

There once was a time when every year would get a retrospective review at the end, or not long afterwards. That has slipped for various reasons. However, this piece reinstates that for this year. Whatever happens in coming years cannot be known; we only know the present, and our recollections of the past are prone to the ravages of time, though some have better memories than others.

Highland Rambles to Start a Year

For me, this year began in Aviemore after the preceding disruption of storm Gerrit. New Year’s Day was spent hiking around Rothiemurchus, with many wishing Happy New Year to each other. Lochan Mor, Loch an Eilein, Loch Gamhna and Loch Morlich all featured as landmarks on an amble on a crisp sunny winter’s day. The volume of traffic along the road between Aviemore and Glen More was more akin to a motorway than a thoroughfare in a protected part of Scotland. With no public transport in operation, private transport possibly was the only realistic option for getting around.

The next day saw a return to Inverness for a hike from there to the shores of Loch Ness at Lochend. The paths by the River Ness and the Caledonian Canal were pleasant, though sunshine was scarce. The same could not be said for walking along the side of the A82, yet seeds were sown for future rambles that use Inverness as a base. Walking back from Drumnadrochit to Inverness along part of the Great Glen Way is among these, as is a circuit through the hills near Achnashellach train station in Scotland’s more remote northwest. South Loch Ness Trail is another option that appeals. If other things had not intruded, these ideas may have been used sometime this year. For now, they remain in my catalogue of ideas for the future.

February’s Fresh Start In Cork

The rest of January was occupied with many handover sessions in advance of a work contract coming to an end. This was a process that took its toll on me, setting some of the scene for the start of February. Nevertheless, property hunting took me to Cork for around two weeks. That was complemented by strolls along the disjointed sections of the Cork Harbour Greenway along with some pottering around Crosshaven, Fota and Cobh. A day trip to Killarney saw me reprise part of a route taken during the first full day of my stay there in August 2022; the initial idea was to head to Glengarriff, but the bus ticket machine would not sell me a day return ticket and I took that as a sign that it might be best left for another time. The deviation around by Torc Waterfall made for a late return to Killarney bus station; it was as well that later services operate on a Sunday, or my incaution might have left me marooned. There was a circuit of Muckross Lake too, which might have made the day a little too long in hindsight.

March in Aberystwyth: Coastal Walks and Windy Summits

In March, there was a return visit to Aberystwyth to follow up on a stay there the preceding September. A good weather window was what prompted me, and I got in some coastal walking on the first full day there. The main stretch was part of the Wales Coast Path that returned me to Aberystwyth from Borth after some pottering around Aberystwyth. Pumlumon Fawr got an ascent on a bracing day with a cold gusty wind reducing the time spent on the said summit. It might have been better not to have gone up there at all, but for my stubbornness. Lower level hiking was less affected by the wind and I wandered about by Bwlch Nant-yr-Arian before continuing to Ponterwyd. The tale of my day made a bus driver laugh when I said it was the wind that was the greatest challenge.

April Escapades: From Stirling to the Tops and Lochs of Central Scotland

Eastertide house decluttering and a run of uninspiring weather meant that it was the end of April when I next got out and about. This time, I based myself in Stirling. The preceding November saw me making an impromptu incursion into the Ochil Hills by following a track while wearing trail shoes. That act eliminated those eminences from my attention, so it was the need to experience a hike around Ben Ledi with more sunshine that became the main motivation. Before that, I enjoyed a delightful stroll around Stirling in the pleasant evening sunshine, even if it wearied me a bit for the main ascent.

The route to Ben Ledi went along that of the Rob Roy Way from Callander before deviating onto a forestry track that carried me around Boschastle Hill. That saved some steep ascent at the beginning, only for more height gain to try my legs on the way up to the summit. With sunlit views like I never saw them before, there were ample excuses for rest breaks to ease the burden. Once over the summit, I descended below Bealach nan Crop into Stank Glen from where I reached the shore of Loch Lubnaig, where I loitered a while before dropping into a Forest Holidays shop for some refreshments. The way back to Callander from there was swifter than I had expected, allowing me to use an earlier bus for the return to Stirling.

The next day saw me back in Callander for what became a hike to Aberfoyle along the southern shore of Loch Venachar before a diversion to Brig o’ Turk prompted by curiosity and Loch Achray. Concerns about making the last bus of the day and the growing heat persuaded me not to visit Loch Katrine, so I hotfooted the rest of the way on forestry tracks, only to find that my fears were unfounded. The initial plan had been to do a circuit of Loch Venachar until distances and the heat caused a change of mind. Very weary legs were rested in Aberfoyle before that bus appeared, and the stop also allowed a chance to imbibe some refreshments.

May: Revisiting the Trails around Aviemore, Rothiemurchus and Kingussie

The start of May was graced with a repeat visit to Aviemore. The main motivation might have been an out and back hike to Loch Eanaich after high water halted the errand the previous December. That was just as well since there still was a stream crossing without a bridge that got me wet feet and boots. This was the sort of thing that perhaps was best left for the last day of a stay instead of the first. Nevertheless, I got where I fancied going. Ronald Turnbull has published a route leading this way to Carn Ban Mor and other nearby hills. It does not look like a day hike to me unless you make use of a mountain bike. Backpacking might be the better approach after some strength training to cope with your load. The next day saw me reprise a hike from Kingussie to Aviemore with variations to the route. This included closer proximity to Glen Feshie and a more direct if muddier route from Moor of Feshie to Loch Gamhna. Otherwise, it was good to redo this with longer hours of daylight.

June: West Highland Retrospectives and French Forays

The West Highland Way got some repeat attention at the start of June during a stay in Fort William. First up was the section between Fort William and Kinlochleven after a deviation around by Cow Hill near the start. Though used by many more people on the day, it was great to revisit a trail that I had not walked for more than twenty years, even if it took a toll on me because of a rush to catch a bus at a reasonable hour. That was not how things worked out for me between Glen Coe and Bridge of Orchy. Though wintry showers peppered the day, there were periods of bright sunshine that may up for these and a shorter route with better public transport connections made for a more relaxing hike. All was settled gain, even if the numbers heading north made me wonder about overtourism. My recollection of passing the same way around twenty years before was that things were much quieter back then.

This also was a year with two trips to France. A passport bungle meant that I could use a booked ferry trip, so I rearranged it for later. The stay in Paris still went ahead in May. Rennes and Versailles were the object of side trips during a getaway that featured mixed weather and extensive urban walking. The summer solstice was when I used the ferry booking between Portsmouth and Saint-Malo, where there was the only episode of mixed weather. Otherwise, there was no shortage of sunshine in Paris or Versailles, even if restrictions were becoming more intrusive ahead of the Olympic and Paralympic Games. Grenoble became my main base, allowing plenty of hiking to happen. The routes took me to Mont Rachais, the Desert de Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Charvet, Sassenage, Mont-Saint-Martin and along the River Isère. While tongue-tied by my grasp of French at times, much was to be enjoyed, too. All was accomplished by surface travel, which was even better in these days of climate crisis. That may set up some excursions in times to come.

A Southern Irish Summer: Traversing Hilltops, Coastlines and Peninsulas

Somewhat like 2010, 2024 feels like a year of two halves after I acquired a new Irish base in Cork city. Thus, July and August saw a lot of Irish traipsing in between attending to other matters that have been in the offing for a while. Killarney saw two back to back day trips, the second saw me reach the summit of Mangerton after being stymied by going around by Knockreer and Ross Castle on the first day. A full day was spent traversing the Ballyhoura Mountains from Ballyhea to Seefin and back. The three Atlantic peninsulas of West Cork, Mizen, Beara and Sheep’s Head, all got visits. The first involved hiking from Schull to Ballydehob and the last allowed me to go from Kilcrohane to Ahakista via the top of Seefin (the name pops up in a few places on this evidence). Glengarriff’s Nature Trails were a lure to the Beara Peninsula early in August, only to be followed with possibly the soggiest and wettest hike in my life along the Beara Way from Adrigole to Glengarriff. Other summertime forays took me to Cashel and Cahir, as well as the Knockmealdown Mountain foothills on a saunter from Cappoquin to Lismore.

A Subsequent Lull

The summer wanderings were followed by a lull in August. Fatigue and other distractions like testing out Generative AI curtailed things in the autumn before the weather fell into a rut uncongenial to hill wandering. There still was a loop around Great Island in Cork Harbour as well as more local forays to known spots until thing perked up more recently with visits to Blarney, Ballincollig and Kinsale.

Ideas for an Open Book

2025 remains an open book at this stage, though there are some ideas that are readily to hand. One is a sojourn in Inverness, while a transatlantic escapade cannot be ruled out either. Given recent political developments, Canada looks more likely than its southern neighbour. The need to use Virgin points may encourage me to go to Canada yet. Toronto could be a base for what surrounds it, and Galway could act in a similar fashion in Ireland. Business matters need added attention, so I do not have a free hand in all of this. Only time will tell what happens next.

Emerging from a rut

The last word in the title for this piece nearly became “funk”. That would have reflected the absence of any longer hikes since the end of August and the dominance of any other preoccupations like experimenting with Generative AI or various changes that I have been making to my business affairs, especially in Ireland.

When I went about checking out the meaning of funk, I was directed to the concept of an emotional funk, with one of the proposed remedies being the taking of simple steps as part of progressing one’s emergence. While in the UK before Christmas, a day trip to Edinburgh along with sorting out other matters and generating ideas for the start of 2025 was part of the process. In some ways, getting out and about in Macclesfield is simpler than doing the same in Cork.

While stationed in Cork, it has meant finding ways to get places for shorter outdoor outings that cannot be frustrated by a sense of inertia. One trick was to get to Blarney to use some public trails that AllTrails brought to my attention; it also helped with ideas for around Kinsale too. These gain various names from the likes of Ardmadane, River Martin, Knocknasubh and Clogheenmilcon Fen. Putting them all together in some sort of fashion easily wiled away an otherwise dry afternoon when sunshine was coming and going. Going with the flow to an extent was the cause of my starting in Blarney and finishing up in Killeens. Varying the routes to add variety could mean having these on a proverbial shelf for ideas in advance of being able to make a short getaway.

Ballincollig Regional Park was another option that became useful, especially when I was not equipped for muddy trails. Though the place was busy with families while I was there, there were some quieter interludes along its network of trails. Some are part of a network called the Ballincollig Gunpowder Trails, reflecting the fact that there was a gunpowder mill in the place once upon a time. Many of these shadow the River Lee too, and that especially applies to the Otter Trail; the area apparently is a stronghold for otters, though their nocturnal or near-nocturnal habits make it less likely that you will see one. A city centre change of bus makes this one work for me, and connections are far off being seamless with nearby of shared stops and frequent running. That might help to extinguish any excuses in the future.

As described in a previous trip report, Kinsale is not so far from Cork city and the changing of a bus can be made to work well, especially on the return journey when a stop is shared between the required routes. The Scilly Walk proved its worth on the way to Charles Fort and then on by Middle Cove and Lower Cove before muddy tramping on the way around by Preghane Point. Brief, light if wetting showers came and went, interspersed with any spells of sunshine, as I progressively evaded humanity the further that I continued. While the price might have been muddied clothes and momentary wettings, the rewards of solitary ambling with clifftop views cannot be underestimated.

With other things in mind and not having information from the likes of AllTrails, I eschewed the tempting footpath leading to Preghane Point when I was last around Kinsale in August 2022; information on these things is not always available from a hiking map in Ireland. A little extra is needed to overcome any risk averseness, and time can be as important as possessing the right knowledge sometimes. With access issues being prevalent in Ireland, one’s curiosity needs to be curtailed to avoid the possibility of confrontation.

Building up a catalogue of getaways like this may just be enough to put a stop to any paralysis by thoughts that there is an insufficiency of time for such escapes. You do have a travel a little in Ireland to get to such nearby places because it is not as simple as finding a public footpath or other right of way and following that, as you would in England or Wales. Even so, the push need not require that amount of energy either. Anything that halts torpor has to be a good thing, particularly at this time of year.

Sampling Cork’s Allure: Old Haunts, Forts and Harbours on a Single Day’s Journey

The day around Clogheen was the main hillwalking trip of my time based in Cork. The Whiddy island excursion was mild in comparison and set the scene for what happened on my last full day around Cork. The idea was to spend the morning around Kinsale, the middle of the day around Cork itself and to close things off with a flying visit to Cobh. While everywhere got visited, the timings were thrown out by how long I was in the Kinsale area. But for how I felt about at the time, the Cobh visit might have been expendable, since I saw less there than I might have expected.

The main lure for my visiting Kinsale was its pair of military forts. The distance between them may have made the main contribution to my spending longer than I had intended. James’s Fort, the older and less complete of the two, would be very at hand if there was a bridge across Kinsale’s harbour. However, that is not the case, and is probably best for its photogenicity and accessibility for pleasure craft, so a longer walk around was in order.

Thankfully, there is a footway by the side of R600 as far as the crossing over the Bandon River, the Archdeacon Duggan Bridge. Beyond that, I left the main road for a lane leading to Castlepark. Along the way, I noticed how many were parked or parking, and got to realise that a beach was drawing in the summer heat. Beyond Castlepark, I was on the approach to James’s Fort, where I ambled about for a while. The buildings are not as extensive as the earthworks that surround them, yet access is free of charge and there was plenty to view across the waterway. Charles Fort was but one of the lures for any pair of eyes.

On the way back, I chose a higher level lane that granted more views. Since this brought me out on the R600 to the south of Ringrone Castle, there was a price to pay: road walking without a footway on a thoroughfare that was busier than I might have liked. The footway on the bridge was not reached a moment too soon. For the sake of variety, I varied my route in Kinsale, a bustling place, though one wonders how so many people occupy themselves around a harbour. It helps that this is somewhere with a culinary reputation.

My refreshment needs were far simpler, and I was soon going again. This time, I was headed for Charles Fort, the better maintained of the pair. That comes with a cost: not sites cared for by the OPW attract entry fees like this one. A tariff means a time commitment that I was not will to make. Even so, I was drawn along the coast first to Middle Cove and then Lower Cove. Lack of awareness of the Preghane Loop stalled by coastal wandering there, so I turned back inland while curious about a path I glimpsed in the long vegetation.

Awareness of the heat may have been blunted by sea breezes, but I really noticed it as I wound my way back to Kinsale along various lanes until I was on the R600 yet again. Signs of cereal harvesting were everywhere to be seen, and tractors and trailers were passing the way too. Since traffic was not oppressing me as much as the return from James’s Fort, I simply took getting back to Kinsale one step at a time until I was at the stop waiting for the next bus to Cork.

Once back in the city, I noticed the heat even more; there was not a puff of a breeze as I plied my way from City Hall to St. Fin Barre’s Cathedral and University College Cork, the latter being a former alma mater of mine. But for the effects of the heat and consciousness of time, I could have circled around by the Lough to complete a traipse along old turf from my undergraduate days. That had to wait until February of this year, not that it mattered so much at the time.

My next port of call was Kent Station, where I boarded a train for Cobh. This is a train line that has conveyed me numerous times this year as part of different escapades. Fota Wildlife Park, House and Arboretum were among the lures more than Cobh, a place that is more compact than I had thought, though it featured on a primary school tour itinerary many years ago. Since The cathedral is the main landmark, that got a call during what became a flying visit at the tail end of a summer day. That affected the light for photography, and it may make more sense as a morning location anyway. There is a walk along quays used by cruise lines that has its appeal, and I took in a circuit of the island, called Great Island, a few months ago, mainly tarmac traipsing.

If anything, my wandering near Cork on that final full day of my presence in the area acted as a prelude to further explorations that happened this year. The same might be said for the day trip to Bantry and Whiddy Island. As for Clogheen and the Knockmealdown Mountains, the follow up there is more tenuous: a trip to Clonmel with an incursion into the Comeragh Mountains during May 2023, a walk from Cappoquin to Lismore via Mount Melleray Abbey in August of this year and an excursion taking in both Cashel and Cahir after that. In summary, my touring while based in Cork city set me up for what happened this year.

That lay in a future unforeseeable in 2022. Changes were coming to my Irish affairs, and I could foresee how they would proceed back then. As I write these words, I am hauling myself out of torpor to see new sides to other places near Cork, like Blarney and Ballincollig. Climbing out of a lull is ongoing as the year-end gets ever nearer. All this beyond view as I left Cork more than two years ago. If there was any irritation, it might have been the leaving of a hat with a melting drawstring in the hotel room after me. A new acquisition sorted that omission to leave a sense of satisfaction of what else was surveyed. There could be no cause for complaint.

Journeys Through Time and Terrain: A Clogheen and Knockmealdown Exploration

During his later years, my father took an interest in the story of Fr. Nicholas Sheehy, a Roman Catholic priest who was martyred in Clonmel. Though he came from West Limerick, he ministered in south Tipperary and became parish priest at Clogheen. It was in the nearby Shanrahan graveyard where his remains were laid to rest following his execution.

That may explain in part how my second day from Cork took me to Clogheen. Another reason is that the Knockmealdown Mountains are similarly near at hand, thus making both motivations work in tandem. Thus, I made for the local church on my arrival in Clogheen where I surveyed a monument that was constructed in front of it.

That was not all, for I set off for the graveyard where the remains were interred. For part of the way, I was following segments of the Blackwater Way and the Clogheen Loop, only to leave them for my quest. A footway continued all the way by the side of a quiet regional road and no further than the graveyard itself; there is little doubt regarding the reason for such an urban feature in the midst of a portion of Irish countryside.

Once there, I lingered a while and made some photos when the sunshine was blocked by any clouds. As well as the historical aspect, there is a scenic side to the location too, reminding me of the other lure that drew me this way. My historical respects made, I followed a quiet byroad to the trail that I left behind me earlier. Some ascent lay ahead of me.

As I gained height, the views expanded all around me. To the north lay the expanse of the Galtee Mountains, whose shapely whalebacks captured my attention. These hulks may lie on the northern side of the valley, beset by heat haze, yet that took nothing from the way they looked, even if that haze challenged photography. The added height, compared to where I was located, could not be discounted, as I trod by more anonymous looking hummocks.

A boreen carried me a long way into the Knockmealdown range, with only a solitary tractor passing that way. All was deserted, not that I was complaining as I left the tarmac for a track leading towards Knockclugga, my only summit of the day. Though Knockshanahulion was not so far away, I decided against going that way in favour of following the trail downhill. Consciousness of time and the heat of the day might have something to do with this, yet it leaves open the prospect of a return sometime.

What lay before me also might have something to do with my decision-making. Knockmealdown, the highest hill in the range, lay before me and looked more shapely than the eminence that I had been traipsing. Views opened up in front of me and around me as I continued my trek, some of them leading south towards County Waterford. The trail shadowed forestry as it continued east, with a few ups and downs to exercise the limbs. In time, the growing heat of the day would catch me a little.

In time, I would reach the side of the R668, the road from Clogheen to Lismore that passes a noted viewpoint called The Vee. Though this was a spot favoured by my parents, I decided against following the road around that way in favour of the more peaceful trail in the direction of Bay Lough. As I did so, I marvelled at the direct trail up the steep western slope of Sugarloaf Hill. The audacity and heedlessness of the thing only gets stopped down when you realise that there is an inflection offering respite part of the way up. Otherwise, the sanity of the routing would need questioning.

After Bay Lough, the trail entered mercifully wooded shade at the expense of any views. Later on, I did see if I could glimpse The Vee by a moderate deviation, only to conclude that this was fruitless. The forestry cover put paid to that, and I wanted to catch the last bus of the day back to Cork. As ever, one needed to avoid getting marooned.

Trails were abundant and should have a use if a return came to pass. Names like the Avondhu Way and the Blackwater Way suggested proximity to the county of Cork, while the East Munster Way is more inclusive in its title; some of my rambling that day took me into the county of Waterford. My way back to Clogheen returned me to the R668 and brought me across the River Duag. Handily, I had a wait for the bus to come, and it may have been delayed.

When I boarded, I was told to use the lower saloon of a double-deck vehicle, a disappointment given the scenery through which it was going. Later on, a dishevelled character came downstairs with signs of having hit his head off something. That may have been the reason for the instruction. The same person was to find that he had embarked on a return trip from Cork instead of reaching his intended destination, which caused a difficulty for the driver. This was not a discussion in which I was involving myself, and I slipped away quietly; there was someone else to back up that driver.

None of this intruded greatly on what had been a superb day out. A later conversation with fellow residents at my hotel expressed surprise at what I did in the heat, especially when the location is quite a way inland. The increase in heat was nothing like the record-breaking temperatures that beset many in the UK only weeks earlier, yet the warming trend continued for the rest of that week.