112 pilgrims from Derry have
come to Westport on a sunny Friday morning to scale the famous mountain which
has been conquered by millions over the years.
The tradition of pilgrimage to
this holy mountain stretches back over 5,000 years from the Stone Age. It was
on the summit of the mountain that Saint Patrick fasted for forty days in 441
AD.
This mountain is on a list of
things I have pledged to do before I turn the dreaded 40, and when Derry’s
Emmet Thompson arranged the trip, I knew I had to give it a go.
There’s much interest when I
tell friends and family that I’ve decided to climb Croagh Patrick. But
attention turns to whether I’ve decided to make the trek barefoot.“No, I tell
them, I’m not mad.” . “But
you’ve done Lough Derg, you’re into all that barefoot pilgrimage stuff.”
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| Father Christopher says Mass on the |
And it’s true, I have “done”
Lough Derg, but climbing a mountain barefoot, well that’s a horse of a
different colour.
The sun obscures the view at
the base of the mountain and my feet feel safe and secure in my borrowed hiking
boots.
But the expedition is almost
over before it begins when I can’t get my newly purchased trekking sticks
extended. I certainly look the part, but when it comes to scaling a mountain
I’m definitely more Bridget Jones than Hannah Shields.
Luckily a teacher from St
Mary’s College spots my ‘damsel in distress’ look and manages to fix them for
me.
Two twists of the sticks and
Sean McBride has them adjusted to my height. But he warns me I’m not to touch
them again until I get back to the bus.
Finally I’m on my way, and I’m
joined on the first part of my climb by young Hannah Best from Dublin, who’s
come to live in Derry with the Derry Youth Community. Hannah and I met for the
first time this morning and sat together for the whole four hour journey on the
bus, but we walk together on this first section mostly in silence, past the
iconic statue of St Patrick.
The average person takes two
hours to summit the mountain but I’m determined I can do better than that.
And the first 30 minutes of the journey pass without incident.
And the first 30 minutes of the journey pass without incident.
But when I finally turn around
to take in the view I take a gasp at what’s in front of me. It simply takes
your breath away.
I look to the right and see
the famous conical shape of Croagh Patrick and for a moment I panic and think
I’m on the wrong mountain, because the top seems very far away. I meet Jade and
Bethany, sixth year pupils from St Cecilia’s College who offer to take my
picture with the view behind me.
The girls ask me if I’m on my
own, and I tell them I am.“
Aren’t you lonely going up
alone?” they ask me. And I say no, the
challenge for me today is to conquer this mountain alone. It’s a challenge to
do this by myself, because I never do anything by myself.I walk with the girls
for a while, but they have youth on their side, and after a while I’m lagging
behind them.
On the way I’m vlogging too.
My daughter has given me a selfie stick
so I feel duty bound to record the experience.
My Garmin watch that I usually
wear for running bleeps indicating I’ve covered my first mile in 47 minutes (that’s
the slowest mile I’ve ever done.)
I pass a Galway man and his
young son as they descend the mountain.
He asks me if I’m from Derry.
I can’t think how he knows this, must be my posh Northern Ireland brogue. He
tells me his wife is from outside Limavady.
I ask him what it’s like at
the top. It’s a bit misty today, he says, and I feel a bit disappointed. He
encourages me to keep going.
The last part of my trek up
the mountain takes more strength than I thought I’d need. It’s a battle of
wills. As we climb up the final section, some of the young people start to
wither, while the older of us seem to find that inner strength willing us to
the top. It’s clear this is as much as mental challenge as a physical one. I
pass a stone on the ground where someone has written ‘Stay Determined, Stay
Hydrated - with a smiley face’ it makes me smile.
The final stretch is never
ending. Every corner we turn betrays us, making us think we are at the top, but
teasing us with another 100 yards.I pass newly ordained priest Father Christopher
McDermott and ask him if he’ll hear my confession if I make it to the top, he
laughs and says he’ll also administer last rites.
A man tells me I’m ‘almost’ at
the top and I roll my eyes, I’ve heard it all above from other climbers, but
when I look up I can just see the white stone of the church, and I know I’ve
made it.
I take a moment to take in the
view, and I don’t have the words to describe it.
There’s no mist at all and the
view from the top is breathtaking. Someone points out Clew Bay and it is
beautiful.
Outside the church I meet a
man who has made the climb barefoot and I watch and wince as he ices his
bleeding toes, glad that I was sensible and kept my boots on.
Due to unforeseen
circumstances we have to abandon our plans to have Mass in the chapel and it’s
time to prepare for the descent.
The climb back down proves
even trickier than the climb up.
This time I’ve put my mobile
phone away and I’m not filming. I want to take everything in.I take my steps
slowly as I climb down, treading carefully as the stones slip underfoot.
At the half way section I meet
Father Christopher again who is preparing to say Mass outside. This putdoor Mass is the
most unexpected and beautiful part of the day.
During prayers Father
Christopher remembers my sister’s father in law Diarmuid Healy, who was laid to
rest in Derry that morning. At the end Father Christopher tells us he hopes we
enjoyed this authentic Mass rock experience. And we all did. There’s a
camaraderie among us all as we gather together in prayer.
There’s drama on the way down
as one of the teenagers slips and hurts her leg. They’ve no choice but to send
the helicopter in to assist her and get her medical attention.
On the last section Hannah and
I cross paths again. This time we’re chatting and she stops at a running stream
to collect some St Patrick’s water for her mum. We’re not sure if the water is
holy or not, but a man we meet tells us we should collect a bottle of the water
and drink it.
We all make it off the
mountain in one piece as we gather at the bus and share stories of our climb. A
few of us congratulate ourselves in making it up the mountain in less than two
hours. I made it in one hour 52 minutes.
