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The Moonlight Challenge, Uncategorized

The Moonlight Challenge (Sat 16-Nov): Part 4 of 4 – Call-Outs, Moonlight and Baby Seats (9.30pm to 1.30am)

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Heading down the hill from Checkpoint 2, we passed one of the Mountain Rescue team as he drove a Rescue Jeep up the hill in a hurry. A few minutes later, he passed us again on the way back down, this time with someone sitting in the passenger seat. He stopped long enough to tell us there had been two rescue call-outs so far.

“Who’s the plonker who caused the call-out?” asked The Grocer, laughing.

“Me”, said the man in the passenger seat.

DoubleD is a medical professional but made no effort to help The Grocer remove his foot from his mouth.

For someone so tiny, Ms NornIron moves very fast. I used to think it must either be drugs or magic. That night, she had an extra-large flask of triple strength French press coffee with her. She gave me a me thimbleful to perk me up. Immediately I could feel my blood scratching at the insides of my veins trying to get out. She drank the remaining 2 pints of strong coffee in a single swallow that would have intimidated the giant anaconda from the film of the same name. Drugs it is.

At one point, I saw bodies floating in the woods a short distance from the path. They were ten feet off the ground. They didn’t move but reflected the beams from our torches. I can think of three possible explanations: they may have been the spirits that touched Gappy in the graveyard; a playful use of some spare hi-vis outfits; or hallucinations brought on by Ms NornIron’s industrial-strength coffee. I haven’t decided yet.

We turned off our head torches on the final stretches of the walk. The full moon was so bright we didn’t need them. It only occurred to me then that the night had been selected because there would be a full moon. I’m a little slow at times.

We finished up at the lodge at 11.45pm. Not adjusting for rests, it took us a little over six hours to cover under 25km. Like I said, I’m a little slow at times. It wasn’t a race anyway, except to get a good seat in the pub, but that ship had sailed before we even left the lodge.

We were welcomed at the finish line with a team photograph, a goodie-bag and a bowl of either stew or vegetarian goulash. By popular option, the goulash was held to be the tastier option of the two, but I wasn’t sharing.

The goodie-bag contained a Moonlight Challenge buff for each of us and a flier for next year’s walk. We immediately made plans for next year, when we could all dress as gay pirates just like The Grocer.

Five of us hung around for a drink in the lodge. Between us, we found one seat hidden in a corner. We took turns using it, but the seat was so tiny, each of us could only it fit one bum cheek on it at a time.

I was designated driver. I agreed with my two passengers that we’d stay for two pints before hitting the road. They had Guinness and I made do with Alkoholfreies Paulaner. When we were halfway through our second pint, the third round arrived. They agreed that this would be the last moments before ordering another, and another, and another.

The organisers came looking for me at about 1am. The car park was being locked up and they needed me to move my car. I was impressed that they took the time to look for me in a busy pub before locking up. One volunteer drove me a mile down to the car park where another volunteer had been standing in the cold for twelve hours guarding all the participants’ cars. I got back to the lodge to find RedBeard trying to recruit strangers for more fundraising walks next year. I hope he doesn’t expect volunteers to stand in the cold for hours. The Mountain Rescue fundraisers seem to attract a hardier breed of volunteers.

Despite starting at 6am and having a 2 hour drive ahead of her, Ms NornIron stayed with us in the lodge till the bitter end. All I all she made a fair attempt at staying out for a full 24 hours, all to walk 24.5km to fund a mobile command unit in a county 200km from her home. She was as feisty and full of energy at 1.30am as she was at 1.30pm. I’m sure there’s something dodgy in that coffee flask of hers.

The next day I booked accommodation in Glenmalure for the Moonlight Challenge 2014. I’m already looking forward to doing it all again.

The Moonlight Challenge, Uncategorized

The Moonlight Challenge (Sat 16-Nov): Part 3 of 4 – Green Lights, Sore Arses and Promises of Crisps (7.30pm to 9.30pm)

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From Checkpoint 1, we walked up the miners’ road beside the upper lake. We passed multiple scout troupes coming the other way, down the mountain. They were walking in the dark as they had no torches. We could see lights floating around on the lake from people in canoes. Some people do very strange things for fun, I thought, as I was hiked through the night in the rain in the winter with bats painted on my face.

Two large green floodlights lit up the old miner village at the end of the upper lake. It was very atmospheric. They did a really good job with this, I thought to myself. I wished I had enough imagination to come up with such a creative idea: two huge green lamps to light the walkers’ path. As we climbed the hill I realised I was jealous of the creativity and turned to look back at the green lamps shining up from the valley below. They were like giant eyes in the night, I realise, like a big green-eyed monster…

At the top of the valley, we crossed the bridge and moved towards the top of the Spink on the wired boardwalks made from old railway sleepers. These boardwalks are a great solution for walkers on the boggy ground around the Wicklow hills. They protect the soft ground from walkers’ boots and protect walkers’ boots from the nasty sucking smelly mud. Be warned, they’re as slippery as Teflon soap when icy.

Apart from the size, the only difference between Gazza’s jacket and The Grocer’s, was that the Grocer had a bottle of whiskey in his. He refused to open it until we reached the top of the hill. At the top of the Spink, the boardwalks ended and we were sent climbing through the mud up another hill. We were spurred on by the promise of a free bag of crisps at the top. That was a tough hill. We urged each other on. To make it up, we had to be tough and ruthless. Requests for rests were refused. Calls for a stop were ignore. We were intent on the crisps and the crisps. When we got to the top, there were no crisps. There wasn’t even any whiskey. We just kept walking. I little while later, I fell on my arse.

It was no more than I deserved after refusing to stop going up the hill. From the top, the muddy path leads back down the hill to Checkpoint 2. A guide rope helped people climb down without falling. I held tight to the rope. I still fell on my arse. My bum was a little damp and very muddy, but that’s why I wear black pants. Important hiking tip: if you’re going to fall in the mud, wear dark colours.

We passed a big yellow waterproof bag on the way down the hill. It was labelled “Van Party Pack 2”, which sounded very promising. Unfortunately my arse was too sore for me to make use of the emergency party solution.

There were more grateful volunteers and more muffins waiting for us at Checkpoint 2. We shared chunky mint Kit Kats (they were minty), salted peanuts (they were salty) and a few swigs from the Grocer’s naggin of whiskey (it was peaty and smoky and delicious, it warmed my belly and my toes).

As we rested at Checkpoint 2, I met some friends of a friend. They had a dog. I wished I had a dog. With our secret aliases and adventurous demeanour, if our team only had a dog, we’d be able to fight crime, solve mysteries and discover lost treasure and hidden booty. But we have no dog, so we’re left swigging whiskey and falling on our booties*.

*my booty, specifically

The Moonlight Challenge, Uncategorized

The Moonlight Challenge (Sat 16-Nov): Part 2 of 4 – Thunderbirds, Seashells and Powers in the Dark (5pm to 7.30pm)

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The ten of us really looked quite spiffing with all (but one) of our faces painted. The vibrant face paint complimented the hi-vis colours of our hiking gear. The Grocer and Gazza wore matching luminous green jackets. The jackets said “guide” on them, but the two lads weren’t guides. They just bought the jackets to look cool. Gazza is big and the Grocer is little; they looked like a parody of Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito in Twins. It was very cute.

The rest of us didn’t think to wear matching outfits. All the ladies wore wearing pink (so did RedBeard). Ms NornIron even wore a pink Pippi LongStocking hat that she had knitted while waiting for us to turn up. The Rabbit of Infinite T-Shirts wore infinite t-shirts.

Once the team had been gathered, watered, fed and painted, we tried to get on a bus to the start point. Rather than wait in line with everyone else, we tried to skip the queues to get an earlier bus. Our argument was clear: “there are lots of us together, so…, eh… please??” It didn’t work. We went back to queuing and got the second last bus a few minutes later.

One of the organisers made a speech after we boarded the bus. He thanked us profusely for our support, gave us some instructions for the trail and wished us the best. He told us the evening’s fundraising was to fund a mobile command unit for the Mountain Rescue team. For each rescue call-out, the MCU would be deployed immediately to coordinate and manage the rescue resources on the ground. I immediately thought of Thunderbirds. I looked eagerly to see if the roof of the pub would split in two and a brightly coloured jet/rocket/hovercraft would launch from a secret underground hanger. It didn’t.

The box of pink coconut mini-macaroons was passed around on the bus. The lads even offered mini-muffins to all the strangers who were on the bus with us; it’s that type of event. I was sitting at the back of the bus, so I used my head torch to light everything. My torch meant that people could see each other and see the box of macaroons. I was very helpful. I still only got one macaroon.

The conversation on the bus was about climbing adventures. The Grocer and Gazza talked about their adventures on Mont Blanc (4,810m) where they had bought their matching guide jackets (they weren’t guides there either). RedBeard mentioned that he’d found leopard prints* outside his tent while climbing Mount Kenya (5,199m). I thought it was relevant to mention that I had seen no leopards while climbing Mount Kilimanjaro (5,895m). Everyone was silent for a moment, until Paleface chirped up and told us about climbing Island Peak (6, 189m). Some people are terrible story-toppers.

When we started walking, I saw that a few of the group ahead of us had sea shells on their bags, a sign that they’d walked the Camino de Santiago. I got chatting to them about it. The girl I was talking too had started from just before Astorga and stopped in Santiago (about 200km). I told her proudly that I had walked from St Jean Pied de Port through Santiago and all the way to Finisterre (about 900km). Then Paleface butted in and told how he walked from St Jean to Finisterre, from there on to Muxia, then back to Santiago (about 1,000km), and finally he took a bus to the Portuguese border, so he could walk back from there. Some people are terrible story-toppers.

We also caught up on our respect social and working lives. People talked about wives and girlfriends. I thought I’d do The Grocer a favour by telling everyone about all the different times he got engaged. Apparently that was inappropriate. It turns out we weren’t playing the story-topping game anymore.

We’re thinking of climbing a mountain together next year or the year after. If we all climb the same one, we won’t have to story-top each other anymore. We’ll just story-top the people who aren’t there. We’re thinking about Aconcagua in Argentina (6,961m). It requires a three-week stay on the mountain, staying in flimsy tents in freezing conditions, carrying heavy packs and struggling to breathe the very thin air, but we’re all okay with that. Then we were told we would need to carry our own poo down the mountain when we leave. We’re reconsidering.

The walk started high in the Wicklow Gap above Glendalough. In the floodlights, the bare rocky starting area looked like the surface of the moon. It was very atmospheric and moving. We argued about which team was which and who should carry the tickets. As we all acted like children, Lady Captain reluctantly agreed to continue being in-charge of everyone and tucked the tickets away in her soft-shell.

All of the volunteers helping out on the walk were very friendly and grateful. Even as they stood in the dark, waiting in the cold and listening to our squabbling, they thanked us for turning up. They acted as if we were doing them a favour. It was quite lovely to be made feel so welcome. They had marked the path with glow sticks and luminous flags so we couldn’t get lost (although Ms NornIron gave it a go). After ten minutes we passed a lone tree decorated with glow sticks. It looked almost Christmassy. Everyone thought it was a very nice gesture. I wonder if someone just got bored and threw all their glow sticks in one spot. If so, it worked.

We arrived into Glendalough Valley from the back. It was like sneaking into someone’s back garden. We came down an empty laneway, up some steps and through a back gate into the graveyard. A dry-ice machine pumped out spooky fog, in case the dark night in the medieval graveyard under a full moon wasn’t atmospheric enough. As we walked through the eerie graveyard, Gappy thought she felt a felt a power touching her. I suspect Gazza.

The first check-in was a large inflatable white bubble beside the upper lake. We had another moment of confusing about who was in whose team and we were served muffins. The Grocer spent some time adjusting his buff to make sure he got the right look. He finally settled on gay pirate. It suited him.

*actual paw prints from a big hunting cat, not his own discarded underwear.