Camaraderie on Croagh Patrick

It is an arduous climb but, with a stick in hand and the correct choice (or absence) of footwear, you are already halfway there. Whether you are going up or coming down, the sense of everyone being in it together gives you a boost, writes MEADHBH McHUGH

‘GREAT DAY.”

“Lovely day.”

“Isn’t it very dry?”

“It’s the driest Reek Sunday I remember in years – isn’t it amazing?”

The word “dry” echoes around me as I embark on the annual pilgrimage at Croagh Patrick known as Reek Sunday. It’s the sort of early morning where the relentless rain of the past few months is forgotten, as the unexpected sun lights up the Mayo scenery in glorious shades of green and gold.

We drive to Westport early, getting there after half seven in the morning. Beginning the climb at quarter to eight, there are already hundreds on the descent. Blessed are those who can get out of bed. As they head down the mountain for well-deserved cooked breakfasts, we peer up at the route snaking ahead, lined with people.

The first part of the climb consists of a stony path through a mountainous field. I am equipped with a homemade walking stick, like a modern-day St Patrick with his staff. Everyone has one. They are selling them at the foot of the climb for €2 or three for a fiver. There’s no Moore Street chanting, however, most people either have one or buy one. They’ll need them.

It may be dry, but it’s chilly too. This is a welcome thing as less than 20 minutes up the path it is already time to shed layers. It is a steep climb for the uninitiated. Turning around to look at the view in awe offers an opportunity for grabbing unofficial breaks and resplendent respite. Even from a third of the way up, the sight of Clew Bay with its swirling shoreline and dotted islands is a sight to behold. The majestic peak promises an even better viewing point if we can get up while it is clear.

There is a distinct hum on the mountain as the hoards of people move up or down, chatting. If you’re a talker, you’ll find someone to converse with without a problem. There are words of encouragement from those coming down, greetings to friends, talk about farming and football, and not a single complaint. There’s forbearance in abundance, a real sense of camaraderie on the quest. Even a barefoot climber responds to an enquiry about his feet with a stoic “not so bad, so far”. There are children as young as five bounding up the mountain, and senior citizens who seem almost as agile.

Once up the first mountain face, there is a flat path before you take the challenging incline to the summit. A group of men are throwing stones over the mountain edge into a small pool of water below. A man tells me you have to get the stone into the pool and then you make a wish. It is the sort of myth and legend you’ll hear on Reek Sunday. My stone hardly makes it half way down the hill but one man has a particularly impressive stone-throwing technique.

“Under and upwards,” he tells me, “from years of playing handball.” I hope he has wished for the rain to hold off as we approach the peak.

The final shale section of the Reek is the toughest part, as the loose stone and sand threaten to slide beneath your feet. In fact, they often do slip, and falling upwards here is as common as falling down. Most stumbles are harmless if you can laugh them off.

A man taps my stick after one such trip and says “Come on, girl, you can do it”, while beside me a woman laughs to passersby as she takes a rest: “I’m waiting for a bus.”

I’m with her.

The summit when you get there has magnificent views on clear days but we just about catch one before it quickly clouds over. The mist has enveloped the white chapel at the peak concealing all scenery below.

It’s cold up here now. Mass is taking place for the pilgrims and the devout are visiting various stations. We sit down to enjoy a packed picnic but the icy mists move us on fairly fast.

Last time I climbed the mountain, I met a 78-year-old lady here, who wanted to climb the mountain 80 times before she turned 80. I wonder if she’s here in these crowds.

It reminds me how everyone is doing it for different reasons; lots are religious, some are not but it is a personal challenge to everyone in some way. And it feels good to reach the top, an achievement. Sunday dinner will taste better on Reek Sunday.

After a semi-ski down the shale summit and an intense workout for the legs during the decline, we’re back at sea level by 12.30.

With a moderate pace, we made the round trip in just over 4½ hours. It’s time to put the feet up, a plan of many of the returning pilgrims.

The nearby watering holes are already filling up. Well I suppose, it was unusually “dry” after all.

Vatican summit: papal nuncio makes it to the top

The age-old national pilgrimage to Croagh Patrick got Vatican approval yesterday after the papal nuncio, Archbishop Charles John Brown, completed the climb and afterwards declared himself delighted with the experience.

The 52-year-old archbishop was accompanied on his ascent and descent by Archbishop Michael Neary of Tuam, and a number of priests from the archdiocese, including two who are newly ordained, Fr Shane O’Sullivan and Fr Eugene O’Boyle.

The papal nuncio celebrated Mass in the mountaintop oratory at 9.30am, and Archbishop Neary did likewise an hour later.

So impressed was the Manhattan-born nuncio by what he had seen during his five hours or so on Croagh Patrick that he hopes to repeat the climb.

Fr Charles McDonnell, administrator of Westport parish, who was part of the climbing party, said afterwards: “He certainly was enthralled by the whole thing. And hopes to make the pilgrimage again. He stayed most of the morning hearing confessions.”

Although the numbers climbing were down on previous years, there was still a good mix of young and old with some climbing barefoot.

One man, Tadhg Flynn from Castlebar, who did the climb in memory of his wife, Breege, who died last year, scaled the mountain in his bare feet but put his shoes on for the descent.

Probably the most curious footwear of all, a pair of wellingtons, was worn by John Joe Mulkeen from Claremorris, Co Mayo. “It’s not hard at all to climb in wellingtons,” John Joe explained. “I am used to wearing them on the farm.” He has been climbing the Reek since 1965 and said he never saw weather conditions better than this year.

A Co Kilkenny couple, Joe and Mary Shasby from Thomastown, clad from head to toe in their black-and-amber county colours, turned many heads on the mountain and “got quite a slagging” from supporters of rival counties .

Did they recite any special prayers for their team? “Not at all,” laughed a confident Mary. “We don’t need prayers. All we need is for the fans to turn out in numbers to support us.”

The huge variety of food and other refreshments awaiting pilgrims at Murrisk following their descent included cappuccinos, hot chocolate, Americanos, chocolate-chip cookies, candyfloss and popcorn – surely a far cry from the spartan fare of past pilgrimages.

In his homily on the summit, Archbishop Neary, who has probably participated in the annual pilgrimage more times than any senior churchman, said he prayed that the legacy to Ireland of this year’s Eucharistic Congress might be the gift of peace, forgiveness and understanding.

“There is so much good here that has been swallowed up in criticism,” he said. “There is still a vibrant faith expressed by the many people who trek to daily Mass, those who go out to care for the poor and all those who direct their energies to deprived children and the forgotten elderly.”

Archbishop Neary called for pilgrims to strive for the restoration of strong neighbourhoods so as to bring again the sense of great justice and courtesy to each other which marked the gentler side of this nation.

He added: “In a world where strife and wars are the feature of our newscasts, we must not forget that this country designed a peace process which is ranked among the best in the world.”

Numbers participating in the pilgrimage were down on other years, according to Mayo Mountain Rescue, the Order of Malta and Mayo Civil Defence which between them had about 300 volunteers on duty.

Mayo Mountain Rescue reported at 2.30pm they had about one-third fewer casualties by that time than in previous years. By early afternoon, 12 casualties had been "walked off the mountain". One man was airlifted by the Air Corps to Mayo General Hospital. Most injured had cuts and bruises. TOM SHIEL