Silent Long Enough: Loughsalt Mountain from the east

Click on this image for our track in Google Maps

About a month ago, when water was still freezing, I mentioned that we would be on Loughsalt Mountain soon enough. And thus, here we are...

It does feels good to be back home. Plus, the conditions couldn't be more welcoming: 20°C, without a cloud in the sky — As far as I am concerned, this is summertime weather. One would have to be foolish, then, not grab this opportune call for an after-work walk with both hands (or more precisely both feet).

We are therefore back to visiting one of our usual playgrounds. I say back, because, compulsive walker that we are, we were already here on March 7, for a quick climb of nearby Crockaleahan, before it got too dark, which I didn't bother to blog about. At least with the long days finally around, there's no need to worry about the lights running out before we've had our fill. We'll therefore go the long way up, to the top of to Loughsalt Mountain.

In the distance, what we are climbing today, with the western tip of Lough Donnell on our left.

The way to Lough Donnell, which constitutes our hike's midpoint, is its usual enjoyable self. While small, the evergreen forest that borders the path on our right is a powerful presence that we always appreciate (if only it wasn't also riddled with some old trash that ill-advised individuals decided to dispose of in there - what the £$%^ is wrong with you people?!?). Besides the trees, and with the fine weather, I kind of expected to meet some turf cutters, as they are frequently found around these parts. However, we are entirely alone here today, which suits us beautifully. Provides us with the opportunity to appreciate the place to its fullest, as well as the crisp sound our eager feet make on a surface that is still plenty moist underground. If we had to mention a small annoyance, it'd be the clouds of mosquitoes, out in full force along the shores of Lough Donnell. However, their occupants seems to more interested into minding their own business than zeroing onto our exposed skin, even as we pass across them, and there is enough wind to be found as we climb, to prevent them from attempting to follow us anyway:

Swarms of mosquitoes along the path

As a matter of fact, when the weather is that good in the Irish outdoors, you do want to have some wind, lest you want to find yourself bothered by the much smaller but much more tenacious midges as soon as you halt for longer than a couple of seconds.

On the way to the top, we pick our usual steep climb, straight up the north-easterly part of the mountain. This choice is not entirely innocent: we're definitely going to be back when it's blueberry season, since we know this place has plenty to offer. Obviously then, we want to take a pre-emptive peek at what we'll collecting from in a few months time... The leaves may barely be starting to come out, but what we see gives us ground to anticipate a promising harvest. Yummy!

For now though, let's just leave "blueberry alley" on an empty stomach, and step onto the ridge.

Looking north-east from the ridge, with Lough Donnell in the center

Once on the ridge, the rest of the hike to the geodesic marker becomes pretty much a cake-walk, with gorgeous vistas to be had in the west, under the reassuring presence of Muckish in the distance as well as the warm sunshine. All in all, not a bad place to be, even if we are probably getting a little sun burnt as a result...

Loughsalt Mountain (contre jour, left) with its geodesic marker at the top. Muckish mountain is on the right

Past the geodesic marker, I remember there used to be a lone wooden cross in memory of a hill walker, set between a small rock mound, but the elements got the better of it now. I often wondered about this man, whom I know nothing about, while hiking around here... Did he meet his fate while hill walking? Or did he just have a special attachment to this place? The Irish countryside is usually fairly forgiving with regards to hill walking, so I don't really think that this person passed away during a hike around this place. Then again, who knows... I may very well be the next person to demonstrate that climbing hills can be fatal around these parts some day. Oh well, there are worse ways to go if you ask me.

Leaving these considerations aside, we press a bit further west, until we get to overlook the lake that gave its name to the mountain: Lough Salt. As expected, its surface is glistening like fireworks in the sun. Alas, the picture below will never ever do justice to what we actually witnessed up there. But that'll teach you to read an insipid blog, instead of just walking up one of the many hills Ireland has to offer!

The glistening surface of Lough Salt

Looking further west, past lakes Salt and Greenan, we also get good views of our recent friend Crockmore. On a day like this, its guardian dragon must definitely be thawing in. Better hope that the weather doesn't stay warm and dry for too long, else we might have some more "unexplained" gorse fires on our hands...

Crockmore (closest) with Errigal (furthest & tallest)

Once we have enjoyed the view to our heart's content, it's time to head back. Besides, we are definitely getting hungry for smoked salmon and soda bread... as well as those blueberries that we have coincidentally purchased for dessert earlier!

Suggested Sound Track

I'm going to go back to some Bel Canto, since this is what I was listening to while climbing. In Zenith, which is musically brilliant, yet still not one of my top tracks from Magic Box, seemed to resonate with me this evening, so why look further?