Irish Mountain
Running Association

Wicklow Round Attempt

AuthorDateMessage
Paul O'CallaghanDec 20 2016, 5:51pmThis is my official notification that I'll be making an attempt at The Wicklow Round tomorrow, 21st December (Mid-Winter Solstice), starting at 7:15am.
This will be a solo, unsupported attempt. I'll carry all my gear and provisions from the start, for the duration of the attempt and will not have drop bags or logistics support along the route.
Simon Kelly will track my progress and post updates on the IMRA Facebook page from each road crossing.
Ground conditions and night navigation will make accurately predicting crossing times difficult but here is a rough guideline;
Ballinagee Bridge 11:50am
drumgoff 5:00pm
Glendalough 6:55pm
Wicklow Gap 8:35pm
Glenmacnass 9:40pm
Sheepsbank Bridge 1:55am
Phil HodgeDec 20 2016, 10:35pmGood luck Paul - hope you have fantastic adventure!
Stephen RoeDec 20 2016, 10:46pmBest of Luck Sir

Run Safe, Run Well
Paul O'CallaghanJan 2 2017, 3:38pmA report of my unsuccessful attempt...

The Wicklow Round is a huge undertaking which takes a lot of recce's and training to just even grasp the enormity of the challenge, and to get a full picture of it in your head. So during the training for my summer Round I decided that attempting a winter Round in the same year would make the best use of the recce’s and route knowledge I was building up. The overwhelming appeal of making an attempt during winter was that it would be an epic adventure. Two years ago I did The Art which includes 20k of open mountain and was tough in itself, so the idea of doing over 100k in similar conditions was daunting but irresistible. I figured the mountains would be covered in snow and ice and that the challenge would be more of a winter mountaineering and mountain craft challenge than a purely mountain running one. I relished this prospect and as I read blogs on winter round attempts in Britain I got more determined and also decided I wouldn’t go for a “technically winter” challenge on a nice clear frosty night in February. I decided that since I had chosen the best summer conditions, I should choose the best (meaning worst) winter conditions. With this in mind I decided to make my attempt on midwinter solstice which would mean the least amount of daylight, longest amount of night navigation and longest time at low night time temperatures. Choosing a date like this also meant that I treated it like a race, and regardless of the weather I would go on that date. This approach strengthened me mentally during the months of training as I kept drilling it into my head how tough it would be with wind, rain, snow and storms, rather than keeping my fingers crossed for a relatively easy winter night.
My original plan had been to start at 7pm on 20th December and include the night sections from my summer Round in the night sections of the winter as I was familiar with those summits in darkness. However, this also meant I would have some of the most difficult-to-navigate mountain sections during darkness as the west Wicklow Mountains are like the moors of England, totally featureless and very disorientating.
Soon into my night recce’s I discovered that there were two big challenges to night navigation in these areas during the winter. The first was the constant white outs caused by low cloud cover and mist. During daylight this is a nuisance but at night the headlight bounces back off the mist just like driving with full beams in fog. In these conditions it becomes impossible to even determine if a dark area 3 foot ahead is peat, rock or a hole, so you get reduced to a tentative walk. It also makes it impossible to tell if a drop off a big peat hag is onto blanket bog or just into a 6 foot wide cut that you have to climb back out of. There is no way of looking ahead and picking a route around obstacles and so it becomes a slow walk to a compass bearing, up, down, in and out of bog cuts and hag banks. The navigation from Ballinagee Bridge to Table in particular was so hit and miss that although one recce could be a doddle, a week later I would abandon the same recce after continually losing my bearing and giving up in despair. On another occasion on Oakwood I found my own footprints, but going the opposite direction. I’d lost my orientation completely and was back tracking.
Another aspect of night running in winter in the more remote areas is the vegetation growth and trail distinction. In summer its easy to make out even slight trails through grass and vegetation but in winter darkness with a bit of mist this is extremely difficult as grass is short everywhere and trails are indistinct. On another night I’d abandoned a recce at Camenabologue as I’d lost the trail twice on the ascent even at walking pace and then lost the trail twice after I’d turned around even though you could drive a car up this trail!
After that last night I decided that I wouldn’t night recce that section anymore as I wasn’t getting any running training, and come mid winter navigation would be hit or miss depending on weather conditions, regardless of how much I recce’d it in advance. However, in spite of this I think one of my most surreal and abiding memories of the entire undertaking was summiting Lugnaquilla at 2am in dense freezing mist and walking around for ten minutes trying to find Pierces Table (which is the size of a bungalow!)
I had planned that whole night section to suit 2 summits I was familiar with from the summer Round and had become blinkered by that initial logic. But 3 weeks before the attempt I realised that I could shift the challenge 12 hours and still run through the solstice but with the night section to the east Wicklow peaks which have more features and discernible trails. However, because of an injury that only left me 4 runs in December to recce my new night sections! By the time the solstice came I’d only night recce’d the final 20k from a total of 60k in the new night section but I figured the navigation would work out OK as there are fire roads and familiar terrain in the eastern sections.
Apart from the physical training which included a lot of night running and navigation as well as training over high/rough vegetation I started to plan for the expected extreme cold. When I’d done Art the temperature with chill was around -12o C so I assumed that during the Round I could be dealing with drops to -16o C on some of the higher, more exposed tops. With this in mind I invested in winter mountaineering clothes and kit and read up on all the dangers of hypothermia, and planned escape routes from all sections should things go badly. My friend Simon Kelly, who is active in mountain search and rescue, was coming up from Kerry to monitor the challenge and be at hand in case of any emergency, but I also had to plan my own escape in case roads were inaccessible at the time and I had to know where the nearest houses were at any point.
Weather wise things were looking good by late October (in that they were looking bad!), a freeze was setting in and by mid November snow was falling on the hills. However, the freeze was short lived and by late November a thaw had set in and this was compounded by a mixture of mist and rain up to my date. Also, a week out the forecast was for gale force 65kph SSW winds (which is a headwind for the first 50 kilometres). This was the worst forecast for me. On a recce to Lugnaquilla back in October I’d pushed against 45kph SSW winds all the way and returned with the realisation that although I could run in any combination of snow or rain, a strong SSW wind would kill any chance of making splits from the start to Lugnaquilla. On this basis I had decided that the only weather conditions that would cancel my attempt would be SSW winds over gale force, 50kph.
When the date for my attempt arrived the winds were teetering around the cancelling speed, with SSW winds of 50kph on Wednesday morning due to drop to 40kph during the day before picking back up to 45kph on Thursday morning but I decided to go ahead, knowing it would be a tough haul against that headwind for the first 50km.
I was well prepared for the challenge, with my pack ready a full two days ahead, with only my food to put in before I left. As I was going solo and unsupported I pretty much doubled up on everything in case of worse case scenarios, like getting a river dunking at night far from road access at below freezing temperatures. Among the items I had packed were food, water, emergency food, change of clothes, jackets, survival sleeping bag, first aid kit, gloves, mitts, hats, buffs, headlight, spare headlight, torch, batteries and extra, extra batteries. In total I would be carrying 6.5kg between backpack and waist pouch.
On the morning Hazel drove me up to the start point where we met with Simon and went over the last minute details. It was raining hard in the 50kph winds so I did my final checks on everything, wrapped up well before we counted down to my start. And just as I started to run I realised that I hadn’t tied my laces! So off came the gloves and mitts, and after doing myself up we did another countdown and I ran off against the wind feeling in great form. Once off the Moat Road and onto the boggy trail up Kippure the going got tough, with every step having to be looked at to reduce the amount of slipping and sliding in the deep peat. About halfway up the rain turned to sleet, and then to snow, so that I was running into a full on blizzard which lasted until I was halfway down the other side. I managed a good split to Sally Gap and was happy with the ascent of Carrigvoher but from halfway up Gravale the route turns to open bog and the going was dreadful. I could only trudge along in what was at most times ankle deep and a lot of the time shin deep muck and slop. Again and again I’d drop thigh deep into bog and have to pull myself onto a bank. All this with the wind and rain whipping around me. Coming off Gravale was Ok but Lavarnia Gap and the route up Duff Hill were marsh, and again all that could be done was put the head down and slog on step by step. This sequence was repeated along this first string of summits to Ballinagee Bridge, with high winds and rain in my face on ascents and descents, and slogs through bog and marsh at all other times. Billy Byrnes Gap was even more awful than usual, just one greasy grass hummock after another among bog water and mush. All this pushing through wind and poor ground conditions was taking a toll and by the time I’d reached Moanvayn I’d stopped for a break on 3 occasions, feeling exhausted and needing to catch my breath and regroup myself in the shelter of rocks or hags. The descent from Silsean which is a good runnable line was slick and only runnable in small bouts, the rest of it being a walk through greasy grass patches.
I met Simon at Ballinagee Bridge and filled him in on my progress. For the challenge I wasn’t using a watch, but running by feel and only clocking my splits on a stop watch so, I’d no idea of my time keeping and was disappointed to find I was 30 minutes behind my 24 hr schedule at this point. I said goodbye and ran on, getting a nice surprise when I turned out of a wood and bumped into 2 friends on my way to Oakwood. Feeling the clock ticking and with a clear sky now, I made good time up Oakwood, but keeping the pace against the wind was hard once I was any way exposed. However, I made fair time to Table but from there to Lugnaquilla it was pretty much a hard walk into the wind, getting very few opportunities to run, even on the down hills which were very wet and mucky. The constant headwind was giving me a blast in my right eye and I walked mostly with my head down and my peak pulled over my eye, so I was happy to leave Lugnaquilla with the wind behind me. But then I turned for Corrigasleggaun and was against it again, although the rest of the way to Drumgoff was with the wind even if the ground conditions were the same.
I arrived at Drumgoff in darkness and Simon told me I’d clawed back 20 minutes on that section so I felt good, and after a swap around of some gear I headed on for Mullacor which wasn’t a bad climb, but the run to Derrybawn was a mixture of mist and slop which slowed me down a bit and at Glendalough Simon didn’t elaborate more than telling me I’d slipped another few minutes.
My least favourite ascent in the Round is the climb out of Glendalough and on to Camaderry, it’s a calf burner to begin with and then an endurance push the rest of the way and it’s the one section that I wanted to cut a chunk of time off from my summer Round. It was during this ascent that the temperature dropped considerably, with the wind whipping snow flurries around and my feet breaking ice all along the sodden trail. I knew my target split for this section and was chuffed to see I was within 2 minutes of it and headed down to meet Simon at the Gap in good form. But I missed my line off Camaderry and Simon burst my bubble by telling me I’d slipped another few minutes on my descent (but I still didn’t know exactly what time I was running or the time of day it was).
The climb up Tonelagee was a bog slog and seemed to last a lot longer than usual and although I didn’t know the time or how far behind target I was, I was very conscious of trying to make good pace. This caused an error of judgement on my descent to the saddle above Lough Ouler. I hadn’t night recce’d this section and missed the line from the summit. I didn’t pick up the trail and didn’t know if I was too far south or too far north but the going was over easier terrain than the trail so I took it thinking I’d make up time. As I descended further I realised the cost of the error. I’d come down about 300m south of the saddle and dropped about 100m too low which meant a trudge back up to the saddle across rough ground. Once at the saddle I got back on track and headed for Glenmacnass but lost my line again on this descent and veered to the east, having to walk across rough ground again to find the trail to the road.
Simon was assessing my condition at each crossing and I was in good shape, upbeat and feeling good. My only issue were my feet, which I hadn’t felt any sensation in since the start. They were frozen and even when I consciously tried to move my toes I couldn’t make out if I was succeeding or not. There was just no feeling. Added to this was a soreness in both retinaculum which I put down to tight laces on the downhill walking, so I loosened my laces a bit. So apart from this I was in good shape for the start up Scarr and although neither of us mentioned time, we both knew I was consistently losing it. I hadn’t night recce’d Scarr either and never realised in daytime that there is a faint trail that runs around the west flank of Kanturk, but somehow I managed to find it and follow it until I realised my error and took a steep climb up to find the correct path. I still hadn’t looked at a watch or been told the time since I started but I figured I was heading for a 26 hour round and resigned myself to this. By now the sky was clear although it was blowing hard and freezing once I gained any height so I made a decision. Scarr is very exposed and I knew it would be howling at the cairn so I decided that once I got there I’d turn my light off, sit down in the maelstrom and take in the night sky for a minute. And as I sat there I looked up at the bright Milky Way and millions of stars above me and then I looked north and saw an amazing sight. It was clear all the way to Kippure, the mast had a flashing red light on top, another flashing red light halfway down, and there were 2 white lights, one to the left of the base and one to the right. It was Christmas week and I was on top of a mountain in deafening gale force winds in the middle of the night looking at the biggest Christmas tree ever! I was amazed and lit up inside.
Then I had to make my way to Knocknacloghogue…. My chosen route was over rough ground which was slick so that all I could do was slowly walk downhill towards my destination. When it came to crossing the Cloghoge Brook it took a few minutes to find my spot and after walking all the way from Scarr I knew I’d have to check the time and make a decision once I crossed. After checking the time against a sheet of targets I saw that by the time I summited Knocknacloghogue I’d be heading for at least a 26 hour round. But I knew the next sections well and knew I’d lose a lot more time as I’d have to walk most of the downhills. A quick tally and I figured I could be looking at a 28 to 30 hour Round (most of the remaining being at an unappealing walk) so without any fuss I texted Simon that I was calling it a day and gave him a rendezvous point, changed into warm clothes and walked 5k to meet him.
And that’s how my winter Round played out. In 18 hours 4 minutes I summited 19 mountains, covering 85 kilometres and climbing 4,000m vertical. I then took another hour to walk the 5k to my rendezvous. It was without doubt the toughest challenge I’ve undertaken but also without doubt it was extremely satisfying. In the days after I tried to pick a low point and a high point, the high point was my Kippure Christmas tree but I genuinely can’t find a low point. I have lots of tough points but no point where I despaired or regretted undertaking the challenge. I had planned for and looked forward to an extreme winter challenge, something that would be epic for me and although the snow and extreme cold didn’t arrive, and although I didn’t complete the Wicklow Round on this occasion, I had an epic 18 hours, 19 summits in the winter mountains and for me it stands on its own without any feeling of disappointment.
Although I’d no DOMS or leg soreness afterwards, both my feet swelled substantially and looked like joke shop Frankenstein feet for a few days. I was fortunate that my feet were numb for the entire challenge because once they defrosted they bloody well hurt. Both my retinaculum swelled up badly, and whilst the swelling has abated, the right one still feels like a tough band of leather. I haven’t had feeling on the surface of any of my right toes since the challenge even though for days after all ten toes felt like I’d bashed them with a hammer. Loosening my laces to relieve the soreness, and then constantly walking downhill pushed my toenails into the toe box and it looks like I’ll lose 6 of them. I also still have a deep 2 inch wide gash across my achilles which I assume was from my sock chaffing completely though my skin, but these are minor issues and after 19 hours out there I returned uninjured and it wouldn’t take much to entice me back for more.
With this being a winter challenge a lot of emphasis was put on mitigating the inherent risks of spending so much time running alone in remote areas and bad weather. Although I run solo and unsupported, Simon was an integral part of the undertaking, with us agreeing safety protocols beforehand and Simon having the final say on the challenge continuing should I have shown signs of hypothermia or other problems. So without Simon I wouldn’t have ventured out on this occasion and I’d like to thank him for helping me realise my great adventure. And thanks also to Hazel, for stuffing me full of painkillers and sweets in the days afterwards.