[ Edited: 10/20/2025 this is a repost of a series i wrote in 2022, migrating it to the new nostr website ]

DAY ONE HIKE: ~17 miles
DAY TWO HIKE: ~20 miles

i’m starting to think that the actual hiking part of this journey would be so much easier if i was TRULY alone, meaning if i had left my friend mr. osprey back at home. he is the biggest of slackers. it’s a greater effort than i anticipated carrying around 40 pounds for 7 hours a day, ascending up to 2000 ft peaks or down 1000 foot descents. it’s more taxing than i expected. i’m in peak shape (in comparison to my former selves). but whew, he gets heavier as the day goes on.

obviously he is an important companion, especially for this wicklow way leg, where there aren’t many accommodations and i anticipated having to camp through the ~90 mile leg. and the accommodations that are here are often full. there are two reasons for this: first, it’s almost summer — and a weekend — in ireland and the last four days have been impeccable weather. everyone is on their own adventures exploring the country, tourists and locals alike. second, as both mick and the taxi driver brendan alerted me, there are about 30,000 ukrainian refugees in ireland. the government is paying to house them in many of the available accommodations. brendan suspects the refugees are mostly in and around dublin (“good luck finding a place to stay right now! unless you pay and arm and a leg”), and that the farther away i get, the more openings i should see. he also told me “these ukrainian women are not going anywhere!” once they had a taste of the irish life, and (according to him) the much friendlier irish men (hahaha) they won’t want to go back home. i don’t know many ukranian men, but i do know many irish. and their sense of humor is extremely tough to beat.

well, i estimate every second night i need to charge up my batteries (for my trail maps and navigating, for emergencies / mountain rescue, to stay in touch with family and friends, for work related issues. many pubs let you charge, but again, this first stretch is mostly wild and i haven’t seen a pub yet! heavens to betsy!

i woke up at my ruins campsite at about 7 and laid on my camping air mat for 30 minutes, listening to the birds. anywhere you are in ireland, even when you think you’re completely alone walking through a very dark old world forest, a friendly “baaaaahhh!” will likely break the silence. “wait, what? a sheep all the way up here?” indeed. they’re everywhere, and they’re more curious about you being there than you are of them.

i decided i needed to get moving. i had to hit 20 miles to stay on pace. and according to my maps, even though yesterday was uphill, today was more uphill.

i rolled off the mat, feeling every movement in my legs and glutes. i stood up outside the tent, and gave everything a good stretch. i did a quick 10 minute barefoot yoga session in the bed of the wild grasses next to the tent. everything started to loosen up and i convinced myself i felt good the long day head.

scrambled eggs with sausage and veg

i grabbed the stove, boiled some water, and rehydrated a scrambled egg and sausage meal pack. it was definitely not the same as fresh eggs, but it sufficed and had the calories i needed. one thing about irish food that i have noticed my many times here: everything tastes so fresh. because it’s an island, most things are very local. all beef and pork are raised on the island. (an aside that is jumping ahead but to demonstrate my point: the burger i had last night was from beef raised on the farm attached to this hotel i am at. literally, could be “farm to table” in the same day). so when i know that food exists here, but i’m stuck with a dehydrated food pack, it’s a bit of a downer. nevertheless, it does the trick and tastes pretty good.

and i made myself some coffee. now, i debated heavily leaving this aeropress behind in dublin when i did a test walk with a full pack around mick’s block. i knew i needed to shed some weight, but i love my coffee in the morning. so i kept the aeropress. all i knew was this coffee better beat buddy and jovie’s “world’s best cup of coffee” (“you did it! congratulations!”).

it did. i was super impressed actually. in 30 seconds i had a piping hot coffee that tasted so damn good and warmed me right up. did i mention it drops to 40 degrees at night? very cold (toph, thanks for the 28 degree-rated sleeping bag!) i feel better about the added weight of the coffee beans and the aeropress (but will that gratefulness last 300 more miles?)

after coffee, i went and filled up both water packs with more stream water, sterilized it, drank a liter, and filled again. very ritualistic. i deflated the mat and pillow, packed up the tent and tied it to mr. osprey. with everything ready to go, i took a moment of reflection at the ruins. i thought about my last trip to ireland with my dad and about mick’s retelling of how much bill dreamt of coming here. i smiled, and took out some of my dad’s and bill’s ashes and left them with the irish rubble, forever entwined with some irish history.

https://blossom.primal.net/26d995ade98d273484a35804e1a85dc67a63df1eac84c42ea92cdeb90d320466.mp4

day two’s hike begins. after i left marlay park, i hadn’t seen one person, so i didn’t know what to expect today. one thing for sure, as i left the campsite and waked about a mile away, i knew i could expect more uphill. i started out on the compressed rock paved road just outside the campsite (used for timber farmers’ logging equipment). when you see a sharp turn on the map, it usually means you’re going up or going down, walking against the grade. well i saw a turn coming up, so i strap in for another climb. as i turn the corner, i get excited because there’s a bag sitting on the trail. i assumed someone was wild camping in between the trees, so as i approach, my eyes are darting around looking for signs of life. and then i hear it “oh my! what bad timing!” accompanied by a hearty laugh. an irish woman with her pants down at her ankles was relieving herself behind the cover of a pine tree. “i’m so sorry!” i said as i chuckled and scurried on by to give her her privacy. “not a worry! we all have a piss sometimes!” oops. i would have like to stayed to chat, but i think she was headed down, not up. and it was kinda awkward that i saw her knickers.

climbing the boulders

so i keep climbing. and admire the many times the landscape completely changes.

https://blossom.primal.net/b6dcf3f3f17132e38b813f4628021d90845240a758a4e515626db8f9ceaeb51f.mp4

so many times i say out loud to myself “whoa gorgeous.” the photos and videos don’t really do it justice.

wood path through young forest

there are many different types of gates or stairs you need to pass to stay on trail. all of them are designed so the sheep cannot get out but human hikers can pass through. some of them, however, are very hard to get through with a big backpack. takes wiggling and maneuvering. the worst has been the last two or three stairs over a wall at the end of a 20 mile day. it literally took me 3 minutes to get over one. my body didn’t want to cooperate.

okay, so it’s feeling like another solo day where i see no one but the sheep. that’s okay by me, i am enjoying myself and enjoying the world around me. so i trek on. i’m following this logging truck trail on a steep descent. freshly cut logs are stacked at the side of the road and smell of christmas morning. i must have gotten distracted in my own thoughts because i pull out my hiiker app and see the gps is way off track. “what the heck! i didn’t miss a sign post.” i turn around and start walking UP this ascent. what torture it is to hike the wrong way down, having to backtrack up a wicked incline. and about .25 miles. i get to the point where i missed the turn. it’s a tiny path between 2 trees. no waypoint. at all. i mark it on the hiiker app as a missing waypoint so someone else knows to pay attention here. i use the swinging sheep door to get into the open meadow. the sun is shining strong and this place feels magical. i know from my youtube research that camping is forbidden in this area. the farmers that allow use of their land as a trail do not want campsites and fires and the inevitable trash people leave behind. (signs for “leave no trace” seem to be often ignored. that’s frustrating to see.) this little valley felt like something out of tolkien’s the hobbit. the bright green was overpowering, sprinkled with purple heather flowers everywhere. you felt transported into a warm fantasy dream.

https://blossom.primal.net/63709daf33617ad1a1adee119754729fd7b5116cffdc65bd6dd77cec2589bf55.mp4

feeling like i was in the shire

i took off my shoes and stuck my feet in this water to cool them down, to silence the barking dogs. i filled up my water packs. and “had a piss” myself in the woods off trail. rested 5 minutes. i would love to have camped here. i didn’t want to leave this place. but i had to keep walking.

up ahead in the same valley there were a group of four young irish with as many golden retrievers playing in that little creek. we exchanged pleasantries. they were mid-discussion, so i kept walking. i wanted to take a photo because the dogs were having a blast. two came running up to me to say hello, shook out the water from their fur all over me, and leapt back over the embankment into the deeper creek. their owners apologized but i assured them i was hot and it felt nice. onward…

https://blossom.primal.net/affe5a8caae647758f687a3d0d4abe0c6241477ed80bafdcbd27b653f8b5b6f6.mp4

i kept going more vertical. it felt like the uphill battle was just not ending. i saw a huge waterfall in the distance. it wasn’t on trail but it would have been neat to go check it out. it looked like it was a decent hike away. and i was gassed from about 3 miles of vertical climb.

another few miles in, i passed a resting irish trio. we chatted briefly, but they were older than me and looked completely exhausted. i understand! so i turn the bend from them, climb another fence stepladder, and i see i am at the top of a boulder trail that goes pretty much straight down, crosses a stream, and then went straight back up. probably about .5 miles in total. i kept my phone in my pocket to avoid dropping it (so sadly no photos). on the hiiker app, this stream at the bottom was marked as a great spot to camp. this was originally one of my targets to hit, but it was only 3pm or so, too early to set up camp. so i rested, ate a granola, berries, and milk meal pack. and refilled my smaller water container. this water was brown. i’d rather not drink it, but i needed to carry it just in case i couldn’t find any ahead.

at this junction of up and down, several people had hiked by in both directions while i ate lunch with my sweat-soaked shirt off and drying on the rock. many liked to rest before changing vertical direction. some stopped to chat, others kept going, head down. i understand why this would be a fun spot to camp. if you’re there early enough you’ll meet some characters. i would watch as people got 1/3rd of the way up either side and stop to rest. another 1/4 and rest again. this was gonna be a grueling one.

i start the uphill climb. it wasn’t too bad. i stopped about half way, pretending i was looking at the scenery and not resting. then continued on. i stopped at the top again, you know, to assess how much the scenery had changed since halfway up. it looked much the same, good. all checks out.

just me and the sheep up here

https://blossom.primal.net/bb5a79f9165bede4276679dc2894d175b6cab5f7d8dc9cba2eb01374373f98f0.mp4

i think by this point i’m like 12 miles in. i still feel good but … 8 more miles good? i don’t know. i checked the map to see if there were closer camping spots or b&bs but didn’t see any. okay, stick with the plan. head down fella.

https://blossom.primal.net/fb584eb20b32711644c6865c9e02d72b9a36353c95753f6f9e50311f40d78d97.mp4

maybe the highest point on all of the coast to coast? there was a side-hike that i could have gone up another 100m but there’s no way i could have done that today

as the sheep stayed behind to eat flowers and poop, i ran across an interesting change of trail: flat wooden logs with staples for grip. it was nice to walk on this, and it allowed me to pick up my pace!

as i was walking atop them at a very quick pace for about a mile (?), someone appeared ahead of me. so i slowed my roll. only one person with a backpack really fits comfortably on the trail and i didn’t wanna make her speed up. i walked behind her for a bit, and then the logs ended and the road opened up so i could walk alongside her. we started chatting. her name was elina from estonia. she’s traveling by herself, doing the whole wicklow way (the first leg of my trip). i think she must have bigger balls than me, to do this trip solo as a woman. now i heard eastern european women were strong but that seems herculean to me. her mom is worried sick, her sister is following along watching her on her map apps. she’s a contract lawyer at a bank and tells me i’m doing her dream hike (a very long distance over a very long and extended period).

“i told my mom when i died, i didn’t want to be buried. i wanted someone to spread my ashes all over.”

i tapped my front hip-hugger pouch of the backpack and said “i have my dad’s and brother’s ashes right here. i’m leaving them all along my walk.”

“that’s what i want! my mom says ‘how can you expect me to leave ashes all over? i cannot travel like that.’”

elina and i walked together for about 3 miles, maybe. we stopped to take pictures at various points, and she asked me to take a picture of her because she hated how everything was a selfie so far. i agree! no problemo! then she returned the favor.

“okay but now we get a selfie together too.”

(mom stop reading here) we get back onto the log trail… these logs were sturdy and allowed a quick pace… but they also gave a false sense of security! we were looking down (i think) at what i later learned the locals call guinness lake, because at the top of the lake it’s a different color and looks like delicious cold frothy foam of a pint of the black stuff. mmmm. i turn around too quickly to see why the lake was two colors, and stepped into a divot in the wood, worn away by weather and leather no doubt. my ankle turned, and the weight of my bag shifted. oh no. i’m going down! i realize there’s no stopping it so i try to fall gracefully. i rotate to fall on my side so i could grab whatever was nearby and not skid down the hill. luckily it was not next to a sharp drop, as some areas had been! i fell successfully, hugged a rock, and got back up, tested my ankle to make sure i didn’t twist it. all was good. elina said “wow that was well executed.” and two irish guys walking behind us caught up, laughing, and said “hey next time you do that, give us some notice so i can take out me camera,” while mimicking taking a photo. “no, but on a serious note are you okay? that looked like it was in slow motion!”

injury averted. let’s move on. elina and i kept walking and the irish guys paused for a break. we met up with 2 americans from missouri and a belgian i previously had passed on the trail. we walked with them for 100 m and they went off trail to check out a view point. elina had met them previously and knew they had a map, but nothing electronic on them that would provide gps accuracy. so when we crossed another unmarked waypoint in the dark woods where the actual trail diverted off the assumed path, we made our own out of some branches we broke. hopefully they saw it.

go right!

we pressed on onto a paved road and discussed if we are supposed to be standing on the left or right side of the road, since in ireland they drive on the wrong side of the road in the wrong side of the car. we determined that the right side of the road is safe, unless there’s a cliff.

ahead there was a lake and what looked like a small town up the road. that’s where elina was headed, to previously booked accommodations at a hostel. i had to make it ~5 more miles to get to an adirondack hut (three sided roofed structure for camping with no tent). she took my information and we parted ways.

i got another 3 miles or so into my hike toward the hut and i just lost all energy. i looked up the road and it felt like i was nose to nose with a vertical asphalt wall. nothing about it seemed manageable. i pulled off on the side of the road and i’m not kidding when i say i considered taking out my sleeping bag and curling up under a tree. but instead i looked up any b&bs nearby. hiiker had nothing listed. ugh. by chance, i opened google maps.“wicklow way lodge” popped up out of nowhere 200 meters from me. it appeared to me in my desperation, like manna from heaven. please have availability. i rang. she asked “are you calling about the b&b or the campground?” “either!” “the lodge is fully booked but the campground has a few spots. it sounds like you’re walking?” (i was very out of breath.) “i am. i’m 200 m away.” i couldn’t have been any closer to them, just one steep climb left…

“okay my husband seamus will meet you at the drive.” seamus was a santa claus looking irish man, just way more serious. he told me it was €20 for the night. DONE (i would have paid €50). he told me the hot showers were €2 (i would have paid 10€). he told me which pitch to setup in, so i took mental note and followed the signs for the campground. on the way i saw a double decker bus in storage that said “NORTH POLE” on the destination marquee. *where the eff am i? is this heaven? *he must have used his farm for something christmas related, but i hope he put a more jolly demeanor on for the kids!

of course the climb to the campsite was uphill. and steep. and on rocks that didn’t want to grip my boots. my steps were micro baby steps, my legs could hardly move. i. was. exhausted. i finally made it up that hill and found my pitch. i dropped my backpack hastily. i fell to the grass and laid down for 20 minutes. wiped out.

i could have fallen asleep right then and there, but i knew it would get cold. so i mustered the strength to setup camp. then laid in the tent for an hour to just redistribute blood to my torn up muscles. i considered not eating and just going to bed. but no. i needed to replenish calories. so i made a meal pack, and talked to a dad who had his two daughters camping with him. “you feeling okay? i saw you on the road. you looked beat.” “yeah i’m okay now. it was a struggle at the end.” “how far did you come?” “about 33km.” “WHOA, are you hungry? i have food here.” “no thank you, my pork’s almost done!” i gobbled it down, drank some fresh drinking water from the spigot. i threw out the brown water i had saved just in case. drank more fresh water. drank even more fresh water. and then, feeling much better, spent €2 on the best 10 minute hot shower i have ever had. i noticed during the shower that my fall into the stream broke skin, as i had a 4 or 5 inch laceration that was hiding under the pants i hadn’t taken off yet. i thoroughly cleaned the wound, but it didn’t look red or infected so i think i was in the clear. when the timer went off and the the water turned off, i was disappointed but felt so rejuvenated.

the glamping site, my tent to the left

as i left the shower, the two irish guys (brothers mark and adam from greystones), the guy from belgium (matty, pronounce “motty”) and the two americans (i didn’t get their names) were all together, haggling with seamus on the porch about the cost for the night. draped in my towel, i told them “it’s worth every penny!” this was more of a glamping site than camping site. this was clearly evident by the rest of the non-hikers. the irish couple that brought their entire kitchen (even a panini press, and 20 sausages for the two of them! and comfy robes!). the tent next to me that had 6 little girls that must have been scouts or just enjoying their “pajama party.” the kids all played. the adults sat by the communal campfire. seamus brought up beers. i spent some time on the phone catching up with carl about any work issues. and when i hung up with him, joined the remaining lingerers at the fire while my devices recharged. i made it to sleep at about 1am. a long day. tomorrow should be … interesting… and hopefully not a hangover.

#travel #ireland2022