Croagh Patrick

Attendance:

• Anthony Griffin
• Anne Griffin
• Cian Griffin
• Orla Griffin
• Sorcha Griffin

Croagh Patrick comes from the Irish Cruach Phádraig meaning "(Saint) Patrick's stack". It is known locally as "the Reek", a Hiberno-English word for a "rick" or "stack".[1] In pagan times it was known as Cruachán Aigle, being mentioned by that name in sources such as Cath Maige Tuired,[2] Buile Shuibhne,[3] The Metrical Dindshenchas,[4] and the Annals of Ulster entry for the year 1113.[5] Cruachán is simply a diminutive of cruach "stack", but it is not certain what Aigle means. It is either from the Latin loan aquila "eagle" (more usually aicile or acaile)[6] or a person's name.[4][7] In addition to its literal meaning, cruach in the pagan name may also have some connection with Crom Cruach.

Our experience of climbing Croagh Partick

As we drove towards the Reek, a collective gasp was heard, in the car, as we caught our first sight of what we were about to attempt to climb. It looked fairly steep. We arrived at the car park at 12.30. We were hungry after a long drive from Barefield and had some of our picnic before starting the climb. It rained heavily as we drove to Westport but it cleared a little when we got there. We set off, with sticks in hand and took it easy enough on the first part of the climb. Many others were climbing the Reek on that day, but it wasn’t too crowded. The going got a bit rough about one third of the way up. A fairly strong wind whipped up and shoved us around at various points. Sometimes we just had to stand still until it passed. As we got to about half way up there was an incredible hurricane blowing. We had to take shelter behind a temporary shelter. We (and many other climbers) had to crouch down behind this shelter to avoid being bombarded with a very high wind and grit blowing into our eyes. A heavy, misty rain was now also falling and it looked like we would have to turn back. We then heard other climbers saying that they were going to go for it and that once we got away from this wind tunnel, things would be better. So, we went for it and headed on up the Reek. The climb got much tougher from here on. The older climbers (me!) were definitely under pressure. At last we reached the summit, had our picnic and at this stage were fairly wet. The mist was too thick at the top to get a good view, but the satisfaction of reaching the summit made up for this. We started our decent and found this pretty hard on the knees. The sticks were invaluable. By the time we were about half way down we were all soaked through and only the Gortex raingear survived the ordeal. The rest of us were being dragged down with very wet clothes and boots. We were very glad to get to the bottom – approximately 4 hours and 15 minutes later. The feet were pretty sore and tired at this point. We, luckily, had brought full changes of clothes and used the ugly, cold toilets to put these on. We had a great meal in Westport as a reward for our achievement and felt very self-satisfied. Climbers whom we spoke to on that day said that it was one of the worst days they had ever witnessed on the Reek. Next time maybe we will aim for a bright dry day to do this. The aches and pains subsided after about two weeks!!