Achill Sionnach 2006 - De La Salle Scout Group Expeditions Series

Achill Sionnach 2006

Above: The team of Cian, Colm, Eoin and Ciaran at Saddle Head.

Eoin's mother was wondering whether we would even manage to get all the way to Achill Island before Saturday morning. It was just after three o clock and we had a 220 mile drive ahead of us. The team was Cian, Ciaran and Colm from the 3rd De La Salle Scout Troop with special guest, Eoin Kelly from the 7th who had only found out he was going about two hours earlier after a last minute casualty threw open the space. Hats off to him for being ready to head off to the far end of the country at a moment's notice. After escaping Waterford, the next task was to get the route card done but apparently Cian can't sit in a car and write at the same time as it makes him sick (that's a new one). Meanwhile the sound coming from Ciaran's headphones gave away that he was not too impressed with Colm's music selection (nobody ever is). With Halloween not far away and as we were going to be camping at the supposedly haunted Annagh bay, masks would have to be bought; although the American shopkeeper in the petrol station outside of Gort thought that Eoin and Ciaran were "a bit old" for that kind of thing.

Above: The team arrive at basecamp.

Galway led to Tuam which led eventually to Castlebar. It was cross country then to Newport and finally we reached Achill Sound where the weather had closed in. After picking up our peat briquettes at the graveyard check out point, we headed off in the mist and rain on the track towards base camp. We didn't realise that on our right lay the eighty or so stone cottages that make up the deserted village beneath Slievemore. Achill really is the perfect spot for a Halloween expedition and they had been burying people near where we were camping for about 5000 years apparently. We got to the campsite after about two kilometres and managed to find two fairly dry pitches. Tomorrow we would hopefully get to see what Achill actually looks like.

Above: At the Signal Tower.

It was still misty as we headed off up the track towards Blacksod Bay and before we struck out across country for the Signal Tower we practiced our pacing and distance estimation. The signal tower was built by the British army during the Napoleonic wars so they could keep a close eye on the seas around Achill. To get to it we had to enter the strange rectangular yard created by the low stone wall that runs around it. As we waited to check in we could see why this was such a good spot for a signal tower as the view south over Clew Bay finally opened up.

Above: Slievemore and Blacksod Bay.

From the Signal Tower we headed via two small summits in the direction of Annagh Strand which was to be our high camp for the night. From the col at 169 we descended down towards Lough Nakeeroge East which is apparently the lowest corrie lake in Europe it being just eighteen metres above sea level. It is separated from Annagh Strand and the ocean by a narrow land bar and it was there that our fantastic campsite was situated. We were the first team to arrive (as usual) and had our pick of the good campsites. For lunch Cian had a half pound of sausages to fry and Colm had bet a fiver that he couldn't fry them without burning them or sticking them to the pan as he had no oil or butter. He lost the bet and the sausages were tasty.

Above: Descending to basecamp at Annagh Strand and
Below: Our campsite at Annagh strand.

The route after lunch was to take us over to Saddle Head and we headed off towards an old booley village and some beehive huts which were the first checkpoint. The stone huts there were used by islanders in the summer to look after their herds of cattle, From there we headed past Tinny Lough to yet another Lough Nakeerogue - this time the west one. Its glaciated we were told and it was hard to imagine glaciers hanging in this place so close to the sea. We made short work of the walk to the tip of Saddle Head over a part of the fairly friendly bogland which covers two thirds of the island. We arrived at Saddle Head and what a place, what a coastline. To the left were the chaotic cliffs running down from Cruachan which are no less than the highest sea cliffs in Europe. To our right the coast swept back along to Blacksod bay and the view was dominated by the peak of Slievemore. In front of us was Clew Bay and of course the Atlantic Ocean. There is surely nowhere quite like it in Ireland.

Above: Ciaran at Saddle Head and
Above: Taking it easy at 123 metres above sea level with Bleanroenacoragh in the distance.

We took our time on our way back as there was still a few teams only approaching the lake (what do they be doing?). Dinner was followed by a game of Switch. Cian just couldn't figure out what those 2s, jacks and 8s were supposed to do and in the end was handed two extra cards every time he asked whose turn it was. Annagh is surrounded on three sides by cliffs while on the fourth side lies Blacksod Bay. Apparently the place has a long history of apparitions and people camping there often report strange encounters. One of the better known stories involves a group of girls staying overnight at one of the booley huts at Annagh. They had a dog with them and during the night without a sound it was thrown dead on top of them in the hut. It would have made a good story at the campfire but unfortunately I only heard it later. Peat Briquettes are just not the job for a decent campfire although people did their best to overcome the sound of the ocean. We made one or two guest appearances ourselves although we couldn't salvage the Fields of Athenry which didn't get far beyond the second chorus. Top prize however went to the lads from Ballybrack with that song about the shark. We had baby, mammy, daddy, granny shark followed by lady swimmer, shark attack and happy shark stuck in our heads for the rest of the weekend. Granuaile would even have smiled.

Above: On Saddle Head and
Below: Daybreak at Annagh Strand.

It was an impressive morning with no rain or mist in sight. The clocks had gone back or forward the previous night, we weren't quite sure but we were instructed not to change them and to stay on Achill time. This all meant that we weren't quite sure if we had had a lie in or not but one way or another we were first away from the campsite in the direction of the 169 col again. There we were the guinea pigs for the kite flying and we did eventually manage to get it put together and off the ground.

Above: Getting the kite off the ground from col 169.
Below: Looking down on Dumha Acha.

Back at 249 overlooking Cornaclea Point we had to give our pick of travel destinations if we weren't on Achill. Australia, New Zealand and America were the top picks. We also had a fine view across to Cruachan which we were told is the highest peak on the western seaboard of Europe. I guess we would have to go an climb it then. From the signal tower we dropped down the track to the haunting deserted village beneath Slievemore. All the way from Loch Annagh the clouds had been getting weirder and weirder. Back at the car I decided that there really was something strange about this island.

Above: The deserted village at Slievemore and
Above: Mad cloud formations above Achill Island.

We sped off down the road to Keel and through Dooagh and got on the cliff top road to Keem. This is definitely not a road to drive off of by accident. We parked just above the perfect horseshoe bay which lies beneath Benmore. Cruachan is 688 metres high and we were starting pretty much at sea level - the real way to climb a mountain. Ciaran had grumbled a bit about this extra peak but he got out of the car quick enough. It was straight up and up and up. We could still see the car at about 350 metres and there was still no tempting Ciaran with the keys. In fact he hadn't even broke a sweat and wasn't a bit out of breath leaving Colm to accuse him that he was secretly the fittest of us all.

Above: Eoin makes his way up Cruachan with Keem Strand and Benmore behind him.

At the top the mountain plunges suddenly all the way back down to the sea. The cliffs of Dover are a measly 108 metres high while the Cliffs of Moher in Clare are 200 metres high. This was a real sea cliffs though with an impressive drop of 688 metres straight down. It was windy on the top and it started to get a bit cool so with a last look over the cliff we headed for the easy way back to the sea. We could also see the rain heading from the Atlantic towards us and it arrived just as we left the summit. It was the saltiest rain I had ever tasted.

Above: Ciaran approaches the summit of Cruachan and
Below: The lads on the summit of the highest peak on the western seaboard of Europe.

There were pigs running about the streets of Achill Sound and neither them nor the Ginger Salon, nor the wedding bonfires on the road from Castlebar to Galway, nor getting shot in Limerick could slow us down. After a run around Ennis (after Ennis) we seemed to be back in Waterford in no time. Helped by discovering finally that the clocks had gone back and not forward.

(Click to view a larger image)

There are lots of excellent places to spend a weekend hiking and camping in Ireland but Achill should be well at the top of the 'Best Of' list. Nowhere else does the sea and the mountains come together so perfectly. Thanks to the Sionnach team for bringing us across the Michael Davitt bridge. It was worth the long long trip.

Above: On the way across to Saddle Head with Clew bay behind.

For more information check out our Outdoors and Expeditions pages as well as the
Sionnach Adventure and Mountain Pursuit Challenge websites.

Above: Eoin on Cruachan (688m) with Saddle Head below.

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