Irish Mountain
Running Association

Galtymore

Authors

Aidan HoganAlan AylingMick HanneyRene Borg

Aidan Hogan

Diary of a Galtymore Newbie

As a relative newcomer to the mountain running scene I had been looking forward to the Galtymore race for some time with a mixture of excitement and fear, but mainly fear. I had previously hiked the race route kitted out with fleece, rain jacket, comfortable hiking boots and a backpack heavily laden with bananas, chocolate and a flask of hot soup. The pace had been leisurely and the breaks to enjoy the views and tuck into some grub were frequent. Despite the apparent luxury, after 5 hours on the Galtees the body would indeed be quite weary. This is what inspired the fear – how could these IMRA lunatics complete a similar course in less than 90 minutes?!?! However, after competing in (and thoroughly enjoying) the majority of midweek and weekend hill races in Munster this year I reckoned it was time to challenge myself against what I had reliably been informed was one of the toughest races on the IMRA calendar. Decision made – Let’s do it!

However, in the week leading up to the race some seeds of doubt were sown; The weather forecast for the weekend was not overly pleasant, meaning that navigation skills in poor visibility may be a requirement and the midweek run in Keeper had taken more out of me than I had expected. I had decided that I would look out the bedroom window on Sunday morning and if it was looking like a manky day, I would just turn over and drift back to the land of nod. When the day of reckoning arrived the view from the bedroom window in Killarney revealed a heavy veil of cloud shrouding all but the very lower slopes of the reeks – but crucially there was no rain! As I drove towards Lisvernane, a similarly low cloud obscured the peaks of Cush, Galtybeg and Galtymore. As race time approached the cloud seemed to lift slightly and now only the tip of Galtymore was covered. As it turned out conditions were pretty good for running – dry overhead, little or no wind and temperatures in the mid teens – ideal really.

As we milled around the start line there were a few familiar faces which I had come to recognise from the Munster races throughout the year. The Bilboa AC crew were out in good number as usual, no strangers to this type of event I would imagine. You could spot the experienced guys with all the right gear and a relaxed air about them that suggested that this was just another walk in the park. You also got the sense that they could spot a “Galtymore Virgin” from a hundred yards. As I compared footwear with another newbie Diarmuid Hayes (me in a pair of road shoes and him sporting a shiny new pair of trail shoes – “last weekend’s panic buy”!) we became even more nervous of the task ahead. However, when Diarmuid revealed that he had no less than three fig rolls stashed in his jacket pocket should I be in need of sustenance, I was emboldened and we took off with renewed confidence. Sure, how could I fail? - with a share in three fig rolls I was surely invincible!

The group snaked its way up the narrow path and over the stile which led us to the base of Cush. A rare flat section allowed me to look up to see a group of about four leaders in the distance already tackling the steep gradient of Cush and forcing a gap between themselves and the rest of the pack. The first serious climb of the day was upon us and we were soon reduced to a walk. I tried to remind myself that this was just the first climb of 5 today and not to blow a gasket too early. I decided to focus on the black and yellow singlet of an “Eagle AC” athlete up ahead. He seemed to be moving at a consistent rate and I reckoned I would pace myself off him and just hang in there for the climb. I got into a bit of a rhythm – just trying to pick the knees up and keep going – and eased past the aforementioned “Eagle AC Man”. Finally reached the top of Cush and gently got the legs turning over into a jog again as we went over the top. On the slippery descent from Cush I was quickly passed by Eagle AC Man and another runner who rapidly disappeared into the distance as I came down the slope like an octogenarian in high heels. As the downward slope levelled out slightly the ground became very wet and boggy but gave me an opportunity to open up the lungs and push on a bit. As I galloped through the bog I became aware of threatening footsteps and heavy breathing approaching at speed from behind. I had already been passed by twice and didn’t feel like conceding a hat-trick. The two ahead had now gained so much ground that I was left to navigate my way through the treacherous bog in an attempt to avoid sinking to my waist. My pursuer was still breathing down my neck, following my every turn – drastic measures were required! I ran directly at the biggest bog-hole I could see, only changing direction at the last second. I waited to hear the shout and the “PLOP” from behind but it never came. Looks like I’ll have to try harder to lose this guy!

The ascent to the peak of Galtybeg proves to be far steeper than Cush (at this point I was informed by one runner that it had gotten twice as steep since he last participated 6 years previous – frightening stuff!). The heavy breather behind me finally caught me and it turned out to be Diarmuid. We kept each other company for much of the climb before heading down the other side of Galtybeg and only to see the final peak of Galtymore looming large up ahead. Somewhere around here we started encountering the leaders already haring down towards the finish line. Just before we started into the tough climb of Galtymore I managed to take my eyes off the ground ahead of my feet to look over the cliff to my right to the magnificent views of the valley below. At this point however, something far more interesting caught my eye – the black and yellow singlet was again within my sights and I set about reeling him in on the slow trudge to the highest point on the Galtee Range. About 100 yards from the summit I achieved a rather pointless victory only for the result to be almost immediately reversed a similar distance from the turn-around point.

Further down the slope I was again passed by another runner and we had a “ding dong” battle along the flat section between the two Galty’s (Beag agus Mór). Where options emerged for slightly varying routes, he’d take the high road and I’d take the low road before merging again with ground gained or lost. It’s at these times when in a direct race with someone that you seem to take most risks and perhaps push yourself harder than if you were running alone. A familiar pattern was again emerging however (as with Eagle AC Man) – I opened up a gap on him on the Galtybeg climb before surrendering again on the downhill section. The quads were screaming for mercy at this stage and the boggy section at the bottom that I skipped across an hour earlier now seemed to sap every last bit of energy from the legs. I once again converged with my two rivals as we dragged ourselves up the last few steps to the peak of Cush. My anonymous friend again disappeared into the distance (not to be seen again til the finish line) and somewhere around the top of Cush Eagle AC Man fell foul to what must have been an injury. From here on in there didn’t seem to be anyone close enough either ahead or behind to cause any undue worry and it was just a case of guiding the ship home. I had wondered before the race if I could finish in less than two hours and the same thing crossed my mind at the top of Cush. A quick look at my wrist said I needed to get down in 12 minutes to hit that target. Could I do it? It didn’t sound impossible. In the end I missed out on the 2 hour milestone by only 2 minutes. There’s always next year.

I would hesitate to use the word “enjoyable” to describe the experience as 48 hrs later my quads are still reminding me of the pain each time I come down the stairs. Regardless, the friendly atmosphere amongst the runners before and after the event was typical of all IMRA events I have so far attended. It is great to see words of encouragement shared between runners as they pass each other near the summit regardless of whether they are in first or last position. One thing’s for sure - once the aching muscles recover, i’ll be looking forward with renewed enthusiasm to the next race.
As I sat hyperventilating at the finish line I saw Diarmuid cross the line and I couldn’t help wondering how those performance enhancing fig rolls had affected his run. “I didn’t touch them”, he said, “I just didn’t have the time”. I guess we’ll just never know what might have been!

Alan Ayling

Aside from the annual pilgrimage to Carrauntoohil, I don’t get to many Munster races. The Galtymore race has been on my list for some time, though. Someone – I forget who - had said to me that this is the toughest race on the IMRA calendar. With the M8 now fully open, it’s a handy enough spin from the Big Smoke, so I decided to give it a shot. Paul Smyth joined me for the journey.

As you travel down the M8, the Galty Mountains come into view somewhere around the Cashel exit. By the time they were visible, it was only the bottom half that could be seen. The rest was well and truly up in the clouds. So this was to be a navigational race then? Ah, well, a little compass work only adds to the adventure. But by the time we arrived at the parking area to find Vivian assembling the registration (complicated things, those fold-up tables!), the cloud level had lifted to the extent that only the top of Galtymore itself was in cloud. It was becoming a nice day – slightly muggy, but surely that’s better than too cold.

You get a very good view of the majority of the sweeping race route from the start. One word: daunting. Not only the steepness of Cush rising above you, but the extent of the drop between it and Galtybeg. Tom Blackburn had offered a warning about the false summit there – the “step”, you’ll think you’re near the top but you’ve still 10 or 15 minutes of cruel climbing to go. Then another drop to the final saddle and one more climb up Galtymore. Oh, and those lovely descents on the way out are climbs on the way back.

After a short delay while the last few runners got to the start, the pre-race briefing completed and we were off. All the tops completely clear at this stage. The field stayed tightly packed for the first climb up to the fence, but by the level stretch before Cush had started to stretch. By the time most of us had crossed the level bit, Brian Furey could be seen already out in front away up the ever-steepening slope. And what a grim climb that is! The humidity was starting to take its toll too. Eventually reaching the summit, the short flattish section above the crag looked invitingly runnable after all the walking up the climb, but the legs were like lead. Then, joy of joys – downhill. I got a slight lead on Martin Francis, Joe Aherne and Ger Griffin at this stage, but that soon came to an end with the flat boggy saddle and the return of the heaviness in the legs.

Galtybeg was an unforgiving slog, the step half way up just seems to insult you, it’s certainly not enough to give you what might be called a break. Near the top, though, the wretched climb becomes a pleasant and airy, if short, ridge. The views are probably lovely at this stage but I can’t say I noticed. A steep and slippy descent with plenty of line choice gave me a chance to catch the lads again, a bit of a battle ensued as we started up again, past the hordes of incredulous hikers and a big gang of kids. The last climb to Galtymore is scarcely easier than the previous ones and I dropped back again. Martin Bradshaw came thundering down the mountain on his way back. It looked like he was now in the lead; this turned out to be because Brian Furey and Rob Cleary had already gone by, away to the left out of sight on the other side of the peat hags.

Martin Francis had extended the lead on our little group by the summit and passed me on his way back, while I still toiled upwards. I could just imagine him thinking “This is revenge for Carrauntoohil now, ya bugger!” as he went by. Then Joe and Ger loped by and eventually I reached the turning point at the cairn. All I can say is fair play to Niamh O’Ceallaigh, having climbed Galtymore “for two” to be summit marshal – a heroic effort.

The first descent on the way back seemed to be the slippiest of the day. I remembered Bernard Fortune’s description of it from last year, attempted in road flats. Glad of the Innov8s and the drier conditions, I sped down without any falls, one near one though. The bog at the saddle led to more interesting line choice – first I got ahead of Joe, then he passed me again with a much better line to the left. Ger lost his footing in the bog and slid forward like he was celebrating a winning goal, got upright again before I could pass him, then took off up Galtybeg.

The climb back up Galtybeg was the one that really did for me. It’s arguably the least horrible of the 5 big climbs on the route, but the tiredness was really setting in. The boys smoked me along here. Over the ridge-like summit and downwards again, where I surprisingly caught and passed Ian O’Kane on the descent. This is not the norm by any means, he usually puts me to shame on the downhills. Seems it was grip and confidence related after a spill and a near-twisted ankle. Perhaps the inury to pride was greater – on the last part of the descent, after I’d led him for maybe a minute, Ian thundered past again. That he opened a lead of 5 minutes on me between there and the finish says something about our relative descending abilities and maybe about my fatigue levels.

One last climb up Cush – a bloody big climb too – and the last descent begins. It’s one of the great disappointments in hillrunning when you come over a crest hoping to see some of your rivals within striking range, only to be greeted by the sight of hundreds of metres of empty mountain, said rivals being but tiny dots in the distance. A look back convinced me that at least I wasn’t going to get caught, so it was a case of get back down at cruising speed, no point in heroics and a tumble. Then, coming off the flat bit with the stile, a familiar green singlet appeared in front – Dermot Murphy. Dermot regularly destroys me on the uphills and I try to return the favour on the way down, sometimes I get him and sometimes I don’t. This time, I had the rather unfair advantage of two fully functioning ankles and passed him in the heathery run in to the finish. The lads I’d been racing for such a long time were well finished by now, Joe had caught Martin on the technical descent only to fall foul of the latter’s infamous speed on the more gradual descent lower down. Ian had made up 6 more places after passing me with only Cush to go. Brian Furey had won in a very impressive 84 min 42 sec. Mary Louise Ryan won the female race in a fraction outside the two hour mark.

To round off the day it was back to Moroney’s in Lisvarrinane for tea, excellent sandwiches and biscuits (they even had Kimberly Mikados). Accompanied, of course, by tales of the adventures we’d all had on the mountain.

Whoever it was that said this is the toughest race in the IMRA calendar – I reckon they were right. Tougher than Carrauntoohil. Tougher than the old Aughavannagh race. Tough, but brilliant – a real proper mountain race. Thanks to Vivian and Tom for organising. As the Governor of California said during his previous career, “I’ll be back!”

Mick Hanney

The Galtymore race last year was probably the most difficult IMRA race I ever did but all the more rewarding in the afterglow. This year we were back for more. The weather gods were good to us this time around though and from the starting point we had a clear view of the route up towards Cush and over towards Galtybeg and Galtymore. While last year the conditions were wind, rain and low cloud, this year the conditions were pretty much perfect for running. I’d a long run in the legs from the previous day so I wasn’t sure how the day would pan out. It could be a world of pain. Time would tell.

After a few words from Vivian we were on our way up the grassy track. The climb up Cush is fairly constant. Circa 400 metres in 2 kilometres. Brian Furey, Martin Bradshaw, Rob Cleary and Tom Blackburn led out at the start. As we gained height Brian Furey had already extended a gap towards Cush peak. A gap he would stretch out during the entire race. I was on my own for a while before being joined by Stephen Cleary and Paul Tierney who were stronger on the ascents. Coming off Cush you lose height immediately and exhilaratingly. Springy ground for the most part made for good running. In the middle of the col was some boggy ground which required some bog jumping. The leading runners seemed way off when I was heading across the col towards Galtybeg but as we started that climb I saw that Tom Blackburn wasn’t too far ahead. Either he was slower than normal or I was faster. I couldn’t quite figure which. Galtybeg is a wall of grass that rises up on front of you. A forced march up Galtybeg ensued. Don’t look up too often or you’ll get despondent. I was passed on this section by Stephen and Paul both climbing strongly. The ground levelled out earlier than I expected but just when you think you have summited you find that you are merely on a wide step on the hill before it rises yet again. More marching, relentlessly upward. We peaked out on Galtybeg after some 4.5k at a height of c. 775 metres. Another, this time short, descent before the main climb to Galtymore. The ground here is less grassy and more peaty and rocky. To the right is a vertigo inducing drop to a corry lake. I veered well away from the edge and ran and walked the main climb to Galtymore. I was conscious too that Bernard Fortune wasn’t too far behind. So too I’d expect the likes of Martin Francis and Ian O’Kane, both flying descenders to be on my heels before too long. Brian Furey was first off the top. He had a clear lead on Martin Bradshaw who was closely chased by Rob Cleary. Rob must have passed him soon after as he extended a decent lead for a clear 2nd to Brian on the day. Tom was 4th off the peak followed by Stephen Cleary and Paul Tierney. Good to see Patricia Blackburn and Niamh O’Ceallaigh marshalling the top, c 900m which was around 5.75km into the race. We might have some summit photos? Turning at the trig point its all downhill from here, okay with some uphills but you know what I mean. Down Galtymore in big leaps past the runners trudging slowly up the other way. It remained nip and tuck between me and Paul Tierney on the way back. With me gaining on the descents and him making back ground on the ascents. The descent off Galtybeg is fantastic – one of the best descents on the imra map. I was fortunate not to fall but if you fall its mainly grass so its forgiving that way. You lose c. 300m of hard-earned height in a single kilometre. Running now across the col back towards Cush. I seemed to take an inefficient line here and met some boggier ground. By the time I started climbing Cush I was passed by Paul again. I stayed within reach. Crossing Cush I was happy to see that last descent and not another hill in sight. I made fast progress off the top and gained a position from Paul that I was to keep to the end, but only just. I nearly relaxed too much at the end and just about finished 6th by 3 seconds from a fast finishing Paul. In the end I had my inov-8 X-talons to thank as their good grip was a must on the day. Others wearing less grippy salomons or road runners had a lot of slipping and sliding to contend with.

Brian was well clear in 1st place. He sealed his win of the Irish Champs with his 3rd convincing win. The winning time was but minutes ahead of last year’s winning time, so Peter’s time in challenging conditions is all the more noteworthy. The winning time is some 10 mins off John Brooks record time. That’s some record for this route, or the way routes change from time to time you wonder if it was the exact same route? A nice friendly prizegiving at the race end followed by tea and sambos at the local pub.

Mary Louse Ryan won the ladies race. The results show that only 2 ladies ran on the day which is a pity. This Galtymore route is a great race. It’s a shame that we don’t have more leading lights running it. It doesn’t have the same allure of Lug, Croagh Patrick or Carrauntoohil but it should have. Maybe if it was scheduled earlier in the Irish Champs it might get more runners out. It deserves to get more notice. On another point its slightly disappointing to see the amount of runners who have their 3 Irish Champs races done so far. 1 race to go for those that have their eyes on the Irish Champs limited edition tee-shirt!

Rene Borg

TEAM RESULTS

MEN
1. Bilboa AC 18 (3 Martin Bradshaw, 5 Tom Blackburn, 10 Joe Aherne)
2. Clonliffe Harriers 22 (2 Rob Cleary, 4 Stephen Cleary, 16 Dermot Murphy)