Surprise surprise, it happened again. The trail was somehow gone after a while, so we spent an hour or so swimming through grass up to my chin, jumping back and forth over barbed wire, and eventually crawling under some bushes so as to cut across a golf course to get back to the road. Such is life.
Then this past Sunday we met up with a few friends to go ona hike,
parking at the Crone car park and, a couple hours later, ending at the top of Maulin. I think. When we described the walk to Kev’s mother she said it sounded like we went up Joust, a larger mountain in the area. Who knows, not me! I do know that I finally got to see the Powerscourt Waterfall (largest in Ireland), got to chat to some really nice people, and only received minimal nettle scratches (because we kept to the path on this
|The Wicklow coast.
The girls we were with hike a lot more regularly than I do, and could keep up a faster pace than I could, and not a single break! Which was fine except for the very last stretch up to the top of Maulin – let’s just say my stride narrowed to about five inches per step. It was windy enough at the top that you could lean into it and it would support you sideways, and if you dropped anything it was whisked away for good. We stayed just long enough to gnaw on some sandwiches and Mars bars, then headed down.
On the way back, someone started calling the name of one of the people we were with; you can never go anywhere in Ireland without bumping into someone you know, and the same goes for sides of mountains as it does for the city center. It’s pretty amazing.
Muddy, hungry, tired – a great way to finish a Sunday afternoon in Wicklow, especially if you’re headed home to the big Sunday roast back in Dublin!