Dungiven to Cam Forest: E2 Day 26

Two mountains climbed today and a boggy walk.

I was apprehensive about today's hike. Dermot Breen in his book "The Edge" described part of it as "bog hell" in very downbeat terms. In addition to crossing this bog, I needed to climb two mountains and walk at least 30 kilometres so that I could reach Castlerock tomorrow and the flight I had booked home the day after.

Benbradagh was the first mountain, rising up behind Dungiven. I was soon pushing up its steep, bare sides, looking down from the road at the white buildings of the village below me. A hard climb but on a good tarmac on a sunny day with great views, so it was not too distressing.  Beyond the high point of the road the land dropped gently as the trail passed the foundations of an old, abandoned US Navy cold war signals base. Lost in thought I continued down towards a wind farm missing a turn. After retracing my steps the Ulster Way took me across a boggy patch and through a forest. There was then a lengthy section, mainly on road, before the second mountain, Donald's Hill. Cherry blossom in the gardens of scattered houses, a bank of daisies, an avenue of ash trees and similar distractions helped me on my way.

Looking back to Dungiven from the road up Benbradagh.

As I approached a road junction, two walkers, a father and daughter, came out of it, both touching the Ulster Way signpost (a bit of a superstition among some walkers). On my asking about the mountain and the bog beyond, the girl pointed to her wet feet. They said to look out for the posts (explaining that the direction arrows and Ulster Way symbols were missing from them) and also the yellow sticks that marked where the trail went. 

To reach the summit of Donald's hill was a steep climb, but at least the ground was dry, with either grass or apparently dead, brown clumps of heather. Halfway up there were two lime kilns and above them a limestone quarry. Examining them, and looking back towards Benbradagh, gave an excuse for a rest! A little below the top I rewarded myself with lunch (an "Italian chicken" wrap I had bought this morning), any higher would have been too windy. At the summit, braving a strong breeze, I admired the sights in all directions in particular towards Lough Foyle to the west, then I started the dreaded bog walk.

Although the going was slow, I found the bog better than I feared. Maybe it was dryer than when Dermot Breen was here, or maybe there were now more posts to guide you. Having a GPS also helped steer me in the right direction (strongly recommended). Part of the route was on a bank, raised about the wetness of bog level, and it was on this causeway that I crossed paths with a large group of men and women. They were on an ambitious hike of maybe 26 or 29 miles (they did not seem to be sure). Maybe their multiple footsteps made the rest of route across the bog a bit clearer.

Looking back across the bog at Donald's Hill and to Benbradagh beyond, the lighter strip curving in front of Donald's Hill is the raised bank I walked along. 

In time I reached the gravel roads of another wind farm. Here the breeze was strong and the turbine blades were turning briskly (going "wum, wum, wum"). Forestry followed with some huge stacks of cut timber, scatterings of violets on the short grass beside the gravel track and a collection of bright yellow arum lily type flowers growing in a ditch which, according to my PlantNet App were Western Skunk Cabbage.

Huge stacks of timber with lots of signs warning not to climb on them.

In the next forest, after a brief walk over fields and a road, it was time to start thinking of where to camp. The bed of green moss between the rows of some of the more mature trees was wide enough for my tent, but it was really spongy when I stepped on it. A result of its great thickness accumulated over many years, burying branches that had fallen into it. Instead I followed an abandoned side trail. Rather wet, but I found a moderately dry patch to pitch on. Midges were about. Visiting in April they have not been a problem, but later in the year I could foresee them being a great irritation (as I found when walking the West Highland Way last June).

According to my GPS my total ascent (the amount of height I climbed in total over the day) was over 1100 metres. While this was common on some long distance paths I have walked, it has been unusual for my current trip through Ireland where the route has generally avoided summiting mountains and where those mountains rarely exceeded 400 metres.