Evangelists trying to reroute pilgrimage get polite brush-off

The annual pilgrimage to Croagh Patrick is becoming a bit like the Northern parades issue in reverse.

On one side thousands of people, mostly Catholics, mark a Sunday in July by walking a traditional route to and from a church on top of a hill. On the other, a small but growing number of evangelists, mostly Protestants, line the approach to the mountain, arguing that if the pilgrims are really interested in going to heaven, they need to get rerouted fast.

It's a very polite standoff. The evangelists are armed only with Bible tracts, most of them with contact addresses in places such as Ballyclare, Bushmills and Poyntzpass, and all with the gentle but firm message that salvation is won by faith alone and climbing mountains doesn't improve your chances. The pilgrims take the hand-outs politely and keep climbing.

But there were some tensions. Mrs Helen Bradford from Portadown was explaining to The Irish Times that a person might find God "at home in the livingroom" as quickly as on top of a mountain, when a middle-aged man shouted: "Go back up to the North and preach to some of your friends up there - f---ing rubbish!"

That was unusual, she said. Most of the climbers were nice, if misguided. "I ask them all if they're happy, but none of them are any happier coming down than when they went up. The only happy people I've met here are the ones handing out Bible tracts."

This may be true, but pilgrims who arrived in the afternoon were at least happier than those who'd come early. The morning was wet and cold, reducing visibility on the reek to 50 metres or less and blotting out any view from the summit. The rain made the rocks and scree on the final approach treacherous, and the combined Order of Malta/ Mountain Rescue operation was kept busy.

Discouraged by the church, night climbs continue on the reek. A married couple got into trouble near the summit just before midnight on Saturday and had to be helped down. A number of others were stretchered off the peak yesterday morning, but most casualties were "walking wounded", according to Eamonn Berry, who was co-ordinating the rescue effort. "Mostly it's just people with cuts and bruises."

The most colourful figure on the mountain yesterday was a man from Fermanagh. Looking not unlike St Patrick himself, he sported a long, red-grey beard, a poncho and rolled-up trouser legs and carried a heavy wooden pole with a shamrock-shaped placard bearing spiritual messages.

He declined to be identified, on the grounds that "the message is more important than the messenger". But describing himself as a "consecrated lay person and family man", he spoke passionately about his beliefs and "the insanity of the world".

"That's what this mountain is about," he said, as he began his ascent. "Our struggle is to get to the top, so that we can enter into God's plan. We are told we will find God at the top of the mountain. But we have to battle constantly with the ways of the world to get there."

A few hundred feet up, he was battling with the ways of the evangelists. A spirited but polite theological debate with two of his fellow Northerners was followed by a more robust exchange with a larger group of leafleteers.

Then, a little further up, he ran into Mrs Bradford, who inquired if he was happy, and soon looked like she was sorry for asking. The Fermanagh man had a mountain to climb, but he was in no hurry.

For most pilgrims, however, the great debating issue was whether it was harder going down than going up. At the summit, up above the evangelist line, visibility was improving and spirits improved with it. The sun burned through the mist around noon and, whatever about seeing the truth, late arrivals were treated to stunning views of Clew Bay and Connemara.

Demand for £2 cups of soup waned, and £1.50 drink cans were doing brisk business at the stalls dotting the route. Back at the base in Murrisk, a stand was offering thermal socks to those going up and St Patrick souvenir mugs to those who'd finished.

Hot dogs, whipped ices and "I climbed Croagh Patrick" certificates (£2) were also for sale. But volunteers at a Bible stand welcomed the returning climbers with free soft drinks, all of them orange.