Croagh Patrick

About a week or two ago I received an e-mail from one of my grandfathers whom I consider to be somewhat of an Irish enthusiast as well as an Irish citizen himself, (can anyone guess who that might be?) highlighting a few destinations I should try to see while here. I frequently receive e-mails from this said grandfather and his advice has not steered me wrong yet. This particular e-mail however did more than just offer advice and a threat was made if I did not visit this destination. My grandpa told me if I did not climb the mountain, Croagh Patrick, he would consider me a pussy! Yes, my very own grandfather threatened to call me a pussy.
Croagh Patrick is a 2,510 ft. mountain in Co. Mayo a little less than two hours north of Galway. This was the mountain where St. Patrick supposedly spent 40 days and 40 nights at the top praying and where he eventually expelled every snake from the island. Each year thousands of Catholics make a pilgrimage there to pray to the island’s patron saint and climb the mountain often times barefoot.
So, since I don’t want to be considered a pussy by anyone, I woke up at the crack of noon on Saturday and caught a bus with a friend to the town of Westport. From there we hitched five miles to the mountain. We were picked up by three guys just a few years older than ourselves. They were cool guys who were enjoying their first few years of having a disposable income and we talked about Irish girls, booze and partying as if we were long time friends. Before getting out though, in all seriousness the guys told us to enjoy our climb and that when we were done, we would be exhausted, humbled, and moved by the unique experience. That is when I realized I was underestimating this climb and it was probably more than a touristy stroll up a safe path to the chapel at the top.

The climb itself took about an hour an a half. It was one of the longest hour and a half’s I have ever experienced though. Weighed down by a heavy backpack and a heavy hangover, my Doc Martens and I struggled to keep moving up the steep and rugged terrain. There was no path to follow and we were constantly walking and climbing over loose rock that shifted down the mountain with every step we took. How someone could do this barefoot is beyond me. I was sweating profusely on the bottom half of the climb only to freeze when we entered a cloud for the second half off the assent. Having started so late in the day, my friend and I were the only people going up and it seemed to last forever. After a while we stopped paying attention to the beautiful view of the Atlantic and only focused on getting up that damn hill.
Finally, after many breaks and curses to the holy mountain we came upon the white chapel at the top of the hill. Relieved and exhausted, we ate lunch and talked about the climb in the clouds. We couldn’t see the supposedly awesome view of the land below but we were satisfied with our accomplishment nonetheless. After snapping a couple pictures and saying a silent prayer, we headed back down the mountain sliding and jumping our way down.
The whole experience was awesome. Although I can’t admit I felt any religious epiphany, I can say the hike was a great challenge that I enjoyed immensely. I saw a ton of Ireland’s landscape and fulfilled an old man’s request to see that special part of Ireland. I can now officially say I can’t be labelled a pussy, at least not for not climbing that mountain anyways…

My friend Colin and I.

The view of the ocean.