The pattern of the heights is rather of a monotonous repetition of rock and boggy moorland in rounded massive haunches, with a certain majesty like the hindquarters of an elephant. I admired the description of the Irish mountains by daphne Pochin Mould: ix
several mountain ranges were familiar to me but I longed to know them better. It is said that the qualities of people born under the sign of the goat include stubbornness, severe criticism of others (plus thyself) and a dogged determination. As a Capricorn I was used to being called ‘a mountain goat’. My plan was to undertake the journey in separate sections, with breaks for reading, writing and reflection. It was a trip, I felt, that could not be made in one continuous sweep.
As well as reaching the summit, I wanted to talk to local people about the lore and the cult of these high places. Zigzagging along back roads, I resolved to keep the hills in view, surround myself with them, feel their presence constantly and learn their secrets. My solo route, by car and on foot, would take me across the length and breadth of the country, with the mountains as companions for the entire trip. The county tops – whether the summits of grand mountains or the peaks of mere molehills – would be my goal. The project was a trip I wished to make into the heart of Ireland: a journey in which I would visit each county, travelling the mountain roads in search of the highest point. The ‘it’ in question was a back-burner project that simmered gently for a while, boiled over occasionally, then settled again in the back of my mind before resurfacing at other times it simply refused to go away. Y any standards it was an ambitious venture. The men of Ireland are mortal and temporal, but her hills are eternal. Spinning yarns in oldcastle The lowest highest Coming Round the Mountain galloping Through Turbulent Tipperary The Witch of the Knockmealdowns Cafoodling around Cork Waiting for gheraun-tuel The Mountain of shape-shifting sexuality sperrin’s hospitable dunghills The Rolling Jungle drumlins no Cheese, no sheep, no Mushrooms The grey Bald one Mountain ears and Cramponed sheep oiled in Boyle The Benwiskin Bullīallymore useless to stupidstown The Tug of lug The Carlow Pterodactyls Murder on the hill Mighty Trostan Close encounters of the Chopper Kind Terrifying Covey of giants Preface Acknowledgements Author’s Note Map I dedicate this book to my son Daniel, for providing love and inspiration
his latest book is Wandering Ireland’s Wild Atlantic Way (2016). A former BBC journalist, he now contributes to newspapers, magazines and to travel guides to Ireland he is a Fellow of greenTempleton College, oxford. originally from County Tyrone, he lives in Belfast and spends part of each year in the west of Ireland researching, writing, walking, and seeking inspiration. he is the author of a trilogy of travel books about Ireland: Burren Country (2011), The Height of Nonsense (2005 & 2016) and Irish Shores (1993). PAUL CLEMENTS is a journalist, broadcaster and writer.
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