Lug up Lugnaquilla

Lugnaquilla - or just Lug - is the highest mountain in Wicklow. At 925m (3035 ft), it is also the highest peak in Ireland outside Kerry. In Scotland, it would qualify as a Munro. It's a serious enough mountain in winter, with avalanches and rescues in recent years, and options for ice-climbing on the North and South Prisons which guard the peak.

I first hiked up Lug in the late 90's, and was up only once since then, in January 2001. The latter was with Richenda, about 3 days after we first met. Tom, you were there too (as was Eoghan, and a few others). It was a seriously cold day, and no time to hang around on top. I don't think an exaggeration to say than minus 15 with wind chill.

Last week was the first time I realised it was possible to bike up Lug. With the seed planted, it seemed there was a bit of interest and in the end with not much planning (except a map, and knowing the route up and down) Paul and I met up with Andy in the beautiful Glenmalure valley last Sunday evening at 6:30.

We were ambitiously aiming for a 3 hour loop, but had lights (and one bivvy bag between three!) just in case. So, off up the valley, northwest - past the beautiful An Óige hostel, following the course of the Avonbeg river.

The first 15 minutes were probably the toughest of the whole circuit. It was seriously hot, like nothing I've experienced in Ireland (at that time of day). The terrain was gravel fireroad, slippy. On we climbed.

Looking back to Glenmalure valley.

Hot.

 
Harder than it looks. Andy, with Paul behind.

This sign clarified that mountain-biking is a prohibited activity. We took a left here onto a smaller trail, heading up towards Table mountain.

Up at 700 m. now, just like that. This is the boundary of the Glen of Imaal military range - "...do not touch any military debris,  it may explode and kill you...".

 Paul and Andy. Taking a breather here.

A gentle climb to Camenabologue, Lug is now visible.

Cairn at Camenabologue (758 m). There is a sting in the tail here though, as we dropped down over 100 m, and more climbing to follow.

 A bit of carrying needless to say.

Check out those views - you could see every mountain in Wicklow from up here: Sugar Loaf, Djouce, Tonlagee, Mullacleevaun, Kippure, Turlough hill, Lugduff...

The cliff is the one of the faces of Lug, down to Art's Lough below.

Paul silhouetted.

More views...

...and the sunset.

The three of us on top. Still plenty of light, right?

Um, puncture.

From the top, it was flowing (whooping) downhill, leading to technical (less whooping) rocky downhill, and finally the zig-zags (super fast switchbacks - more whooping) back down to the valley floor, and a short ride back the road to the car. It was fairly dark by now, but we had just about gotten away without lights. A plague of monster midges here, like nothing I've ever witnessed - we were being eaten alive.

The stats: it took us four hours to get around, but my moving time was 2 hours 45, so there was plenty of hanging about, taking it all in. Average speed was a hopelessly slow 7.8 km/h (possibly explained by the ~900m. climbing).

This was a really special and epic spin, real mountain-biking (as in, we biked up and down a reasonably large mountain), and something I wouldn't have even contemplated a week ago. We were all very buzzed up, and to be honest despite the (nice) tiredness, it was hard to sleep that night. The conditions were absolutely pristine - this is normally a seriously boggy circuit, and we didn't even get a foot wet. This is clearly the best summer we've had in this country in decades. Are you making the most of it?

Granite

Long summer evenings mean the possibility of after work spins, and a few of us have been heading up the hills midweek, usually Wednesday (it's always dry on a Wednesday for some reason). I missed last week (Olympia). Thursday (30th) was a cracker, so I left work at 6 and within the hour was on top of Three Rock. Hazy views out over Dublin Bay, Howth, Lambay island in the distance. Always time to take in the views. Especially after that climb (450m.) 

In my mind I'd worked out a route down while climbing, a track I hadn't done in a year or more, off the beaten track. So down I went, fairly tricky, which I knew, so careful. Rocky, then winding into the trees, and rocky again. A small spill, just landed on my side on boggy ground. Dusted off, then back up. Not really concentrating, so didn't "get going" properly (it was fairly steep), and I hadn't clipped in the left foot properly. A small bump brought me to a stop, and with the body-weight all wrong, I slowly went up on the front wheel. Slow motion, and (too relaxed) landed over the handlebars. Didn't really feel anything, so dusted myself off, and picked up the bike. 

Only then noticed some blood. Lots of blood actually. Pouring from my forehead, on which I had inadvertently and unknowingly landed (the helmet took no impact due to the angle of the fall). No other symptoms or pain - I was clear-headed and didn't panic, but knew I had to act quickly and carefully. No-one was going to find me here in a hurry, even if I could explain where I was. I took my top off to stem the flow of blood (compression, right?). Somehow worried about blood on my shoes and on my bag. And the icebreaker soon to be soaked in blood.

So, now topless, holding the t-shirt to the wound, I walked the 10 minutes or so back up to the masts. It would be faster home this way. I phoned Richenda to fill her in (impossible to talk, kids all at full pelt - bedtime pending). A couple of Polish lads on top saw me coming towards them, I showed them the gash (they gasped of course - helpful). I was probably like something out of a zombie flick. Another lad came on the scene, army man - full first aid kit, put on his latex gloves, cleaned me up, bandage, tape - the works (I took his number, and rang him later to say all OK). Discussed if stitches needed (he thought yes) and if it would scar (ditto).

We worked out that the bike was in good nick. With barriers blocking car access to the mountain, I decided to find my own way down. Another phone call home to arrange a hospital trip. And down I went - gingerly. Cleaned myself up in the shower, changed, ate (I pretty much knew the wound was superficial - although somewhat woozier now). My Kiwi neighbour Adrian drove me to Tallaght emergency department. You really do see all sorts here. I was seen by the triage nurse fairly quickly - he took off the bandage, and knew I'd need stitches. Another 15 minutes to see a doctor. Clean-up job (he got stuck in), then the dreaded needle. Not too bad to be honest. A tetanus shot (you know where) just in case. God knows when I had the last one. A nurse cleaned up my knee and shoulder, and bandaged them - hadn't really noticed before. Back home within two hours. God bless the HSE (at least it wasn't post-midnight Saturday night).

I took Friday off work - I was very foggy for the next 24 hours, like being drunk and hungover at the same time. Pain kicked in some more that night, but nothing serious. Over a week later, it has healed quite well. And the sorest part of me now is the ribs (not bruised - possibly cracked?). Some hard lessons learned. I always ride with helmet, and within myself, but sometimes alone obviously (never at night though). Some of this will have to change. And I've bought a new helmet too.

Powerscourt WAR 2012 (Part 2)

With about 400 taking part - and over half of those in the (easy) Sport event which I'd entered - the entrants were split into four starting 'waves' at half-hour intervals. I was in the final 1pm wave. Having signed in the night before, and confirmed the time again on race day, I thought it'd be interesting to watch the 12:30 group going out, so I positioned myself at the start line for the final race briefing. The first couple of kms were on the bike, downhill and behind a jeep which would pace the riders and then pull away for the race to officially begin.

For some reason the start time went well beyond 12:30 so there was lots of waiting around before they finally headed off. As soon as they were gone, one of the race organisers wandered over to ask me was I not racing? The race number pinned to my top must have been a clue for him.

Turns out the 12:30 and 1pm waves had been merged into a single 12:45 start, and somehow no-one bothered to tell me. The guy who'd approached me obviously saw the panic in my reaction, and told me not to worry, to take my time getting ready and they'd give me 5 minutes extra on my time.

Problem was I hadn't warmed up, or stretched, and by now had a very full bladder. I ran back to the bike racks around the corner - mine was now the only one there! I had to empty my bladder there and then - the shame - and then final packing, helmet on, up on the bike, and off down the hill to chase.

The chase is on...

Not quite the start I'd planned, but the adrenaline was fairly pumping now. I was the last of 400 people out on the course, and f*cked if I was going to finish in that position.

Powerscourt WAR 2012 (Part 1)

This is the third year of the Wicklow Adventure Race. Having ticked off the Glendalough (twice) and Glenmalure editions, I was keen to try out the newest Powerscourt course.

Like the others, it involved road-bike, kayak and mountain-run sections. The race would start in the Powerscourt Estate just outside Enniskerry, with a run up and down the very steep and rocky Sugar Loaf, a 2k kayak on Vartry reservoir, and about 35k of biking to join it all up. I hadn't run as much as a mile since my last WAR in April 2011. Training followed much the same routine as before: four flat runs of 8/9k, ramping up to four hill runs of about the same distance. The final training run up Fairy Castle and Three Rock was on the Monday before the race, and I was a bit ahead of last year on the splits. I didn't do any extra miles on the bike, but instead turned the normal midweek (evening) and weekend spins into faster training rides.

I awoke on the day with normal pre-race nervous anticipation. The bike was checked - spare tube, pump, drinks, powerbar taped to the crossbar - and the morning was spent hydrating, loading up on carbs and basically pacing around the house annoying everyone. Richenda and the girls were planning to cheer me on at the finish.

Race start was 1pm and I was there an hour beforehand to make sure there were no last-minute glitches. The weather was perfect, clear and not too warm, with no wind.

What could possibly go wrong...?

Through the Roots

The 5th "Wee Adventure Film Festival", a great night in Vicar Street last night. The winner of the best amateur film is a documentary about the growth of mountain-biking in Ireland - I might have sent the link around before. Worth a look sometime (27 minutes though), and I'd probably suggest flicking past the dialogue which is sometimes less than inspirational. But the footage should inspire anyone to get up on their bike - and a not too shabby soundtrack too. Check it out here.

Glendalough Revisited

The Glendalough WAR course: 9km Spink run around the Upper Lake (575m. ascent); 15km bike ride on the road, to Lough Dan (165m. ascent); a short run to the lake followed by a 2km kayak, then back on the bike to reverse the previous leg. Slight course change was a shortened return bike leg and an extra 3.5km run from Laragh back to Glendalough. Easy. Right?

The buildup: This time I focussed on the running, and started out about 8 weeks ago. Working up to running up 3 Rock/Fairy Castle 4 or 5 times on a course comparable to the race run. Virtually no bike training, just the odd detour up the hills on the commute home, and one trip up Kippure (route here) for a nice climb the week before. No kayak training whatsoever. I drove down in Wanda the night before and parked up in the Glendalough carpark, saving a few hours kip in the morning. Every little helps.

The usual high carb nosh-up the next morning. Jelly babies for breakfast with no guilt. Weather was perfect: fine, a some cloud, not too warm and not a breath of wind.

The run: Pre-race nervous anticipation, and unfortunately no-one to share the build-up with - all 3 FINEOS mates had bailed out during the week :(. I watched the big guns return from the Spink run in about 45 minutes, how do they do it? With no-one in particular to race against, I had a few strategies to beat last year's time and make it interesting. First of these was to get into the lead group in the run, and avoid the traffic jams when the race hits the narrow steps up Spink. 9:15am was race start, there were about 170 in my 'wave' and I was one of the first off. Some people were walking minutes later - long day ahead for them. Stepped it out, steady does it. In the top 5-6 up the top of the first set of steps, a huge group snaking back. Flat now for a bit, then more climbing. This second climb was fairly hellish, trying to take in the views to distract (see pic below, just putting on a brave face for the photographer!). The descent is extremely tricky, and was passed by a few 'mountain goats' here, but managed to stay on my feet. Naively thought I'd have legs to catch them on the flat, but even the miner's track back to the start was a slog. I somehow managed to trip and skin my knee on the easiest part of the run - no pain (feeling it now though).

Clocked in 58:20 (was 1:02:39). V. chuffed to beat the hour. Estimated I was in the top 15 in my group.

I also knew I could save minutes on the transition - I was literally one of the slowest last year, faffing around with change of shoes, food, drink. Amateur!

Transition 1:27 (was 3:33).

The bike: Sped off through Laragh and on towards Roundwood. Powerbar on board - another race tactic, it was attached to the crossbar with masking tape, worked a treat. My race drink was homemade - orange barley, water, sea salt and sugar. Powerade my hole. But would it keep the cramp away later? Picking off others now with ease (I think they were in the group who left 15 mins before) and in turn passed by one or two others before I reached Lough Dan.

Bike leg 40:03 (was 38:13, but this year we had to run 400m before clocking in).

Kayak: Nothing like a cold, wet arse to put manners on you. Hooked up with another lad who arrived at the lake at the same time. He took charge, sat behind and got us around double-quick time. No drama, but could feel inner thigh muscles starting to twitch - memories of last year.

Kayak leg 14:54 (was 23:09).

Took the time to take on fluids and do some leg stretches knowing the bike climb to come - I cramped on this last year. Flew up this time, happy days. Raced back to Laragh with 2 other lads, we must have passed each other 10 times!

Bike leg 30:29 (was 35:11, but 3km shorter than last year).

Final run:

Transition to the run was less than a minute. Then the sting in the tail. 3.5km, but winding and undulating. Managed to pass 2 more lads as I slogged along. VERY happy to reach the finish line. Even happier I wasn't doing the longer race. Some lads who'd started 1:15 before me and done the full WAR passed me on that final run. Mindboggling stuff.

Final run 18:26.

Full course 2:44:29. I did it in 2:42:43 last year, but that extra run versus bike translates to about 12 minutes quicker, so obviously very chuffed with that. Figured I was in the top 15-20 of my group of 170 (I subsequently discovered I was 12th in the intermediates), but there was another 'wave' who started later - I guess these were the experts, as my final placing was 44 of around 280. Interestingly, while only 200 did the short race last year and 500 did the full one - this year, more did the short course and the standard was seriously higher. The winning time was even faster than Andy's winning time last year, despite the extra leg. Other useless stat: finished 6/38 in the over 40's. And more importantly, only beaten by two women (I know, two too many).

High and Low

View from 3 rock towards Sugar Loaf

The Featherbed is a boggy, mountainous wasteland - less than 20k from Dublin, but a world away. It is surely one of the most wild and desolate places around, maybe even in the country - not a house, a tree or even a sheep in sight. It's also a great road bike route - an hour's gentle climb along the Military Road (eventually leading to the Sally Gap, unpassable these last few weeks) brings you to the top nearly 500m above sea level. And this is where I headed to yesterday afternoon, a dusting of snow outside, and wondering how far I'd make it, or if I'd be able to complete the loop over the top and back via Glencullen.

Not surprisingly, there weren't many people about (I saw one car all day). Roads were dicey, just needed to take it handy, but nothing too serious. Leaving the trees behind, opening out into a frozen and beautiful plateau, with higher mountains rising above. Dropping down now towards Glencree, the road worsening and I knew the smaller back roads to Glencullen would be even icier. Better to turn back, and climb over the top again.

Bitterly, seriously, unbelievably cold - not a day to be taking chances. While taking off my jacket to get a few extra layers on, sweat had incredibly frozen inside (a first). Thermometer is showing about 4 below. Time for balaclava with the descent ahead. For some reason I'd only brought 'ordinary' winter gloves, and not my ski gloves. I paid the price on the journey home - no exaggeration to say I wasn't far off frostbite by the time I was back off the hills.

This is surely the harshest winter I've spent anywhere, and that includes two winters in NZ's South Island. Spiky ice tyres on the bike, schools closed, snowed in at home - all the norm now in the last month, and three years in a row. Climate change is here, and I think we'll be getting used to these conditions from now on.

But yesterday was a wonderful spin on the bike - up in a place where you could die in the extreme temperatures, I felt very alive up there alone, and in the deafening silence of the mountains.

Postscript: No camera yesterday, but here are a few pics of some recent hiking, biking and boarding adventures in the snow:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/davemcg/sets/72157625551711992

On the Military Road - "This is a road through the Wicklow Mountains, which is still in use for mainly tourist traffic, built at the beginning of the 19th Century to open up the mountains to the English Military to assist them in putting down the insurgents who were the remnant of the 1798 uprising". More here.

The Only Race in Town

The race: NPS (National Points Series) Round 7, organised by MAD (Mountainbiking Association of Dublin), on my home patch, Three Rock. Fast new trails were promised, expectations were high. However, the omens weren't good. A training spin two days before the race ended with a broken chain and my inability to find the course trails. It hadn't rained in four weeks, then bucketed down the night before and the morning of the race. Not good.

Malcolm (Richenda's older brother) and I headed up to Glencullen on Sunday morning to register and warm-up. This was the final round of the NPS, with overall positions at stake - but the only race in town was McG and Malcolm's head-to-head - he'd beaten me in both previous encounters, despite being a road-biker and only occasional MTB'er. But he was back on the rollies, out of shape and I had a good shot.

The broken chain on my hardtail meant I had to race my 'full-susser', aka The Beast - this machine was not built for speed, let alone to race. It weighs about 15 kgs and is quite possibly indestructible. In addition, I was having last minute 'issues' with my rear derailleur - too late to tamper with it in case I made things worse, balls. So I was to spend the entire race adjusting the cable tension on the gear lever as I rode, aware that another chain break was surely imminent if I put too much weight on.

High noon, and the race was off - we had entered the Sport category - 'only' 2 laps of a 6.2 km course - how hard could it be? The Elites were to later complete 5 laps - it's just another level. There were also Masters and Veterans categories. Depressingly, we are now officially Vets. Got off to an OK start, making good ground on the fire-road, climbing before dropping down a chute into the trees and some lovely singletrack to negotiate. In the next few minutes I would lose my bike computer (and 5 or 6 places finding it); crash on a tight bend - a spectacular 'endo', cracking shins, knees and shoulder, adrenaline pumping so I barely noticed; a short stop to adjust crooked saddle, post-crash. In all this time, Malcolm and I passed each other a number of times - this was going to be close.

Settling into a better groove now, and onto the big climb of the day, up to the Three Rock masts - just grinding it out, sun baking down, sweat pouring. Saw Malcolm sit down on the side of the track, assuming he had a 'mechanical'. He tells me he has crashed and burned. Surely winding me up? 'Eat my dust, dude'. From the top, a fantastic traverse on singletrack, getting steeper and a lovely drop back onto the fire-road - rockier now, white-knuckle. Back into the trees for a short loop to the start/finish line. Half-way.

The second lap was relatively uneventful - I finally found the legs, knew what was to come and started to actually enjoy the spin. But where was Malcolm? I knew he could catch me anytime so kept the pace up, no complacency here! On the final run-in now, some lad is right on my tail - WTF, is he trying to draught me on the steepest part of the circuit? Bloody kids. He clipped my handlebar sneaking down the inside, and I was on my arse again. Goddamn you! Only a couple of hundred metres to go, so I legged it after him. In the meantime, some other lad was gunning for me now - Malcolm? No. Onto the final drag, finish line in sight, he is all-out so it's a sprint finish with the crowd roaring - beat him by inches, oh joy. And that was it, race over, a great feeling.

I clocked 32 minutes or so per lap, for a 19th placing of maybe 50 entrants. The Elites would later be riding closer to 20 minute laps, and doing so five times. I should have placed higher really, and probably would have on my hardtail. I also wonder if I'd prefer a time-trial type event - these mass starts are just carnage, and it's almost impossible to overtake on singletrack for obvious reasons. XC is seriously tough - and I suspect I just don't have the balls-out mindset for this type of racing.

It turns out Malcolm had indeed 'bonked' on the first lap and was a DNF. This quote from the man himself surely proves ours is a rivalry of Nadal-Federer proportions: "Still sore over yesterday. I think it boils down to the fact that while I've been doing a reasonable amount of 65% efforts, I'd forgotten what 80%+ felt like and blew. So I'm slowly forgiving myself. But you rode well and can certainly count this as a pelt".

Less importantly, Joe McCall - who I mentioned in my previous Cyclo-Cross post - finished a close 2nd in the Elite race to wrap up the overall NPS prize. The winner on the day was Peter Buggle who I've met a few times up at the Blue Light. I would observe that he seems to like his Bulmers, and is 48 years old. Legend.

What is Cyclo-Cross?

Cyclo-Cross (CX) has been around for over a century, but is still relatively unknown in this part of the world - here's a good description in Wikipedia. As I mentioned in my earlier WAR post, I borrowed a CX bike for that event - it's a true hybrid, a racing bike which is robust enough to be used off-road. It also seemed like a perfect commuting bike, so I've since bought a Specialized Tricross on the 'bike-to-work' scheme. It makes a huge difference, especially on the climb home.

I've also tried it from the house to the top of 3 Rock, a savage climb at the best of times, and have beaten the 30 minute barrier which was impossible (for me anyway) on a mountain-bike. Within reason, it's been possible to do many of the off-road tracks in the Dublin Mountains - but there is a threshold of steepness and 'rockiness' beyond which you need a mountain-bike - the CX just doesn't have the required traction, braking power or comfort which fat tyres, disc-brakes and a suspension provide.

Some of you may have heard of Robin Seymour who "has dominated Mountain biking and cyclo-cross in Ireland and has been Irish Mountain bike champion 14 times consecutively between 1993 and 2007 and 15 times the Irish cyclo-cross champion. Between 1991 and 2008, Seymour was beaten only twice in the Irish cyclo-cross championships...".

As it happens, the current national CX champion is Joe McCall who's a neighbour of mine - I've chatted with him before and met him when heading out for a spin last night. He modestly mentioned that he's leading the Elite NPS (National Points Series) in mountain-biking - round 7 this weekend on 3 Rock and a couple of us are planning to enter. On CX, he told me he reckons "it's the toughest sport in the world, great craic!". I'll have my excuses ready if he offers to take me out for a pedal sometime.

Here's an interview with Joe after he won the Nationals, worth a read:

After yesterdays victory in St. Anne's Park in Dublin we caught up with the new cyclocross national champion to ask him a few quick questions.

mtbireland: Well it's been a long time coming Joe but how do you feel now that you're National Cyclocross Champion?

Joe: Thank God that’s over, that’s how I feel! It is great being a national champ. It’s a niche discipline in a niche sport, but its still good to win.

mtbireland: I have to ask about the age thing, at 37 years young do you think it's age is an issue in cross?

Joe: Sure it is. Age is an issue now in everything I do, biking, getting out of bed, etc. Everything is just a little bit more tiring.

mtbireland: Coming into the race how confident were you feeling?

Joe: Very confident. You have to be confident in cross. Its so friggin hard that you cant have any doubt. I considered myself the favorite and rode the race that way.

mtbireland: Were the cross champs a specific target for you?

Joe: Absolutely. Time is limited these days and training for cross is not too time consuming.

mtbireland: What has your preparation been like the past few months?

Joe: Prep was ok. I’m not living the life of a pro, day to day things are all in there.

mtbireland: What about specific cross training?

Joe: Yeah, that’s where this year was different. I did Robins Tuesday night training and Marks ghetto cross races at the weekend. Also, riding in and out was work was great, every light, every corner was a sprinting opportunity.

mtbireland: About the race? Did you have any specific tactics on the day?

Joe: Fla’ ou’.

mtbireland: How do you think the absence of Robin, Roger and Conor affected things?

Joe: It made the race easier for me, that’s for sure. After the 3rd lap I was able to back off and maintain the gap. I would have preferred if the guys were riding, I think I had the form to be very competitive. I would have still rode the race for the win.

mtbireland: Cross has gained a lot more interest in this country in the past few years, why do you think that is?

Joe: Because people are finally seeing that its actually the best sport in the world. No other cycling disciplines are you so out of control for so long. If you rode like that in XC or DH, you would be in hospital. I was sideways everywhere for 1 hour!

mtbireland: You did your first cross champs in 1991 and finished 3rd. How has the sport changed?

Joe: Better bikes, better riders, INFINITLY better courses.

mtbireland: Stilly question but for the 2010/2011 season will you be back to defend your title?

Joe: Defo, should be up north next year so hopefully I’ll get to ride against Roger, Conor, Lewis, Glenn etc.

Blue Sky Friday

For the record: Friday 5th March - Dave rode from his house, up the Wicklow Way to "Fairy Castle", and home via Three Rock. Ride time: 1h 28m; distance 18km; ascent 436m.

This is a spin I've done variants of upwards of 50 times I would guess. A bit of a climb on the road gets me into Kilmashogue Forest and it's all off-road from there. I'll let the photos do the talking.



Welcome to Kilmashogue - timecheck 12:59 - beating the magical 13m barrier.



Sun through the beech trees - nice



Stackstown Golf Club - which we boarded through last Jan. Resisted temptation to ride through it today



This is the mess Coillte leave behind when they clear-fell



Still plenty of snow about in shaded parts



Opening out now, nice views across the Dublin Mountains and the city below



"Fairy Castle" and cairn - summit is 536m. Timecheck 52m. Snack time...



Kippure, the highest point in Dublin (757m) and the famous RTE transmitters on top



The track ahead, with view down to Dublin Bay and Howth in the distance



Just to prove I was there...



View back up from Three Rock masts



No mountain-biking. Hmmm. The start of the Boneshaker track. Starts out easy enough...



...and gets pretty gnarly




Self-portrait, and home for the clean-up.

Over and out - pedal on dudes.