Somehow the willpower of going against the "lazy American" stereotype saw through my toughest hike in Ireland. Four hours of straight up and straight down a stone precipice, stumbling all the way. Dehydration, burning thighs, and a twenty pound backpack made my 2,507 ft climb unforgettable.
So unforgettable in fact, that we found a Snickers bar... and I ate it. Chels E. does not each Snickers or any such junk. (Don't get me wrong, chocolate is a weakness... but a Snickers?!)
You can see the trail is pure rock. So much that every two steps you take up, you slide one back. My legs hurt for an entire week after this climb. Even more unbelievable, people hike to the top barefoot as a pilgrimage to St. Patrick. Why? Because pain, devotion, insanity, religion, the holy spirit, that's why.
James, who deemed himself an unfit hiker, probably set a record for the climb... in his fancy shoes and leather jacket. He made me look slow, which is unheard of.
365 islands of Clew Bay. John Lennon has his island here. It was his dream to build a house and retire on it.
When I finished, it was behind an older guy with a rather large mid-section. I thought he'd share my feelings of "let's never do that again." Because I definitely congratulated him and complained about the hike. Turns out, Patty Jo hiked Crough (croak) Patrick 139 times. He does it twice a week and has for decades.
Wrong person to confess to. Although it was tough, what a view. Definitely worth the experience... very happy I didn't know what I signed up for. You could not convince me to do it again, but who doesn't love a good challenge?
