An Irishman's Diary

In 1891 an aristocratic Scotsman published a set of tables in a then little-known mountaineering journal, purporting to list …

In 1891 an aristocratic Scotsman published a set of tables in a then little-known mountaineering journal, purporting to list all 236 Scottish mountains exceeding 3,000 feet in height, writes John G O'Dwyer.

Sir Hugh Munro had - with the freedom that wealth provided for a 19th-century gentleman - travelled extensively in his early life and had fallen under the spell of mountaineering while on a study visit to Germany. On his return to Scotland, his interests inevitably turned to the then infant sport of mountain-climbing and he became a founder member of the Scottish Mountaineering Club.

The publication of Munro's Tables, as they became known, soon led to an outcome totally unforeseen by the author. The tables spawned the new and highly addictive pursuit of Munro-bagging - attempting to climb all Scottish mountains over 3,000ft (914m). Hugh Munro never quite managed to climb all the mountains on his his own list. He died from post-war influenza in 1919, two tantalising mountains short of his target. The honour of the first completion the Munros had already gone to Rev A.E. Robertson who, in 1901, after a 10-year campaign, reached Meall Dearg of Glencoe, the final summit of his quest. He is then reputed to have celebrated the occasion by kissing the summit cairn and his wife, in that order.

Initially, completing "the Munros" required no special mountaineering skills beyond fitness, an ability to find your way, and the nimbleness to scramble along rocky ridges. Then somebody noticed a fact that Sir Hugh had missed. One of the listed 3,000-foot peaks, Sgurr Dearg on the island of Skye, had on its south flank a tottering blade of rock about 20 metres high and 100 metres long that, at 986 metres' elevation, is actually 8 metres higher than the main summit.

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The Inaccessible Pinnacle became the new summit on Sgurr Dearg with the added distinction of being the solitary Munro that can be reached only by using rock-climbing techniques. This makes it a knee-knocking adventure for most Munro-baggers, who tend to be hill-walkers rather than rock-climbers. The attraction of being Britain's hardest mountain has led to a cottage industry of mountain guides offering to rope visiting climbers to the summit of what has now become known simply as the "Inn Pinn".

The whole Munro-bagging business has been a considerable economic boon to the Highlands. The number of officially recognised Scottish Munros has now been increased to 284 and to date around 3,000 people have made nearly a million mountain ascents in search of their holy grail - the title of Munro Completionist. And with the number of aspirant Munroists increasing each year, some Scottish communities are campaigning to have the height of a local mountain reassessed in the hope that it will be upgraded to lucrative Munro status.

No such phenomenon is likely in Ireland. With just 14 mountains and subsidiary tops breasting the magical 3,000-foot contour, bagging all of the "Irish Munros" isn't really an enormous task and some climbers have conquered all these summits within 24 hours. The only challenge I have found that is even remotely related to rock-climbing the little-known Big Gun Mountain in the Macgillycuddy Reeks. Here, some relatively easy scrambling up rocks is required to reach the tiny summit platform.

So is Ireland entirely without a mountain-top comparable to the Inaccessible Pinnacle? Can a reasonably fit man or woman ascending "hands-in-pockets-style" reach every summit on the Irish mainland?

Over 20 years of hill-walking and climbing initially led me to the conclusion that this was indeed the case. There are, of course, challenging ridges in Ireland, such as Howling and Primroses on Carrauntuohill, Mystic on Brandon and Carrot on Connemara's Ben Corr, but all these mountains offer an alternative and much easier approach. Recently, however, I chanced upon a great blade of rock in what is locally known as the Boola Valley of the Comeragh Mountains that bears a distinct resemblance to the Inn Pinn. About 100 metres long and 15 metres high, it is the only Irish summit I know that requires very difficult rock-climbing to ascend even by its easiest route.

Could this outcrop become Ireland's Inaccessible Pinnacle? Since my GPS recorded its summit elevation as 635 metres, there may even be a case for including it on the list for what is currently Ireland's nearest equivalent to a Munro challenge - ascending all of our 600-metre mountains.

The more immediate question that arises, however, is whether Co Waterford now trumps the likes of Kerry and Donegal for the distinction of having, within its borders, Ireland's most difficult summit. Or is there, tucked away in one of the other 31 counties, a mountain-top that is more challenging than Boola Pinnacle?