Ballina to start of Sligo Way: E2 Day 11

Today I finished the Western Way and began my trek through the Ox Mountains on the Sligo Way.

Knowing I would be wild camping for the next few nights with no shops or cafés on my way I had stoked up on food, eating a large diner last night and a substantial breakfast this morning. This made me feel stodgy this morning and unable to contemplate eating for a long time. Breakfast did however have a bit of drama when the man in charge of the coach party, who had been staying there a week, presented the staff with a box of something. He pretended it was very heavy. Made me wonder what was in it.

As I closed the door of the hotel behind me the skies released a sudden, heavy shower of hailstones. But by the time I had clumsily struggled into my waterproof trousers the hail had all but ceased! There were a few short hailstorms during the day, and one snow flurry, but by complete contrast, also warm, sunny periods and largely blue skies, so I was not dissatisfied. 

My walk began at around 10:30 am. I wanted to start late as otherwise I would walk for too long, distressing my knees and feet, as I do not like to pitch my tent too early, before about 5:00 pm, as it may attract undesirable attention. However at 10:15 am the chambermaid walked in to try and make the room ready for the next guest, so I thought I better leave. 

Much of the day was spent weaving about on quiet, narrow lanes through agricultural areas. I was relying on my GPS to guide me as initially there were no waymarks. The little, yellow, walking person motif did appear on posts later, when the route began to become more interesting, climbing into the foothills of the Ox Mountains, revealing a view back to the snow capped Nephin Mountain and the associated range. Not a very direct route but it avoided the main road and brought me to a track that ran along the side of the mountains. 

Road to the Ox Mountains.

Snow flurry in the foothills of the Ox Mountains.

The last part of the Western Way was on a straight track, up and down low hills, probably the old road as the current road ran close by, picking easier gradients and weaving in and out as a result. After the entrance to a wind farm, emblazoned with the usual "go away" signs, the track deteriorated. Beyond this point it was more a path, waterlogged in places, the moss holding the water ready to soak my feet if I placed them in an ill judged location. I had put a dressing on my right heel where a blister was starting to form and I was hoping it would not get wet and turn into a soggy mess. My boots are meant to be waterproof and do hold out water for a while...and then give up and let it seep in! To avoid such an event I was trying to step on the roots of dead heather bushes and rushes, avoiding the bright green moss hiding beneath the bleached, needle leaved grass, as well as more obvious pools of water. Fortunately as the very end of the Western Way approached the path improved, long ago it had been built up above the surrounding bog. The scenery had been improving for some time. In the morning the roads were in farmland, but now I was walking up a broad valley, leading to a pass through the Ox Mountains, surrounded by moorland with areas of conifer plantations.

Pass through the Ox Mountains.

The end (or the start if you were facing the other direction) of the Western Way was marked by a notice set in a square of cemented stones. Very little could read on the sign as it had faded, or the words had peeled off, leaving fragments of text still visible at the edges.

I now had a kilometre or so of road walking, dodging cars, to reach Lough Talt and the start of the Sligo Way, my next Long Distance Path. The Sligo Way was announced by a legible sign, only slightly faded. After admiring the view of the lake (annoyed that telegraph wires prevented a clear photo) I walked up the road following the Sligo Way, marked by the same yellow person as the Western Way, until the tarmac road changed to a gravel track. Surrounded by plantations of closely spaced conifers and boggy areas, both behind barbed wire for much of the time, I pitched my tent on a small patch of grass between where the track curved right and the fences met a right angles. I cannot imagine anyone will be bothered with me camping here, and I was not expecting anyone to come by on such a quiet, out-of-the-way track but once settled in my tent two cars went by (or possibly the same farmer going each way to check on sheep) but nobody stopped.