Thursday, April 21, 2022

Gortin to Crockbrack Mountain: E2 Day 24

Much of the day on hillside roads with a valley below and mountains beyond, finishing with a climb up Crockbrack Mountain.

I left the campsite as quietly as my tent's zip and the gravel drive would allow so as not to disturb my camping neighbours. Then after a coffee from the local shop, my day's trek began at 8 am. Much of the day was on quiet roads, half way up the hillside. The first milestone was Barnes Gap, a pass through the ridge I was following where many roads seemed to cross. A rusted car wreck distracted from the rustic charm.

Barnes Gap.

After the Gap there was a long stretch of road along the side of a valley. Below were rectangular fields of grass, some dotted with distant sheep, white blobs against the prevailing green. White houses gathered around the busier road on the far side of the valley. Above me and on the mountains on the far side of the valley was moorland, or rather blanket bog, the peat and sphagnum moss holding copious amounts of water. Streams rushed down from higher ground, crossing under the road, cutting deeply into the hillside. A man in an orange earth mover was clearing the roadside ditch of mud and rushes, depositing the debris on the verge. A red fox was prowling across the fields parallel to the road, not scenting me at first as I was up wind, I followed for a little way until I was spotted and he took flight. The sun was out so my sun hat was getting an airing and for a brief time, my bare arms.

I had been noticing on this trip that when cars passed me on single track, country lanes, and especially when I stepped onto a verge to avoid them, the driver often raised a hand, or a finger from the hand on the steering wheel. I took this to be a greeting, or maybe a thank you for keeping out of the way. When I saw it in time I raised a hand in reply. (On the days after posting this I noticed that drivers no longer did this, a change in manners as I headed north?)

Towards the top of the valley the next milestone was a line of standing stones (Goles Standing Stones), erected next to a modern house, thousands of years BC for an unknown reason. A little after I stopped at the Goles Forest Car Park. I was hoping for at least a picnic table (my wild imagination also had a café and toilets), but there were none of these things so I ate my lunch leaning against a International Appalachian Trail sign.

Goles Standing Stones.

Crockbrack mountain was my next challenge. Being open hillside I was concerned about becoming "bogged down" in sphagnum filled holes, peat hags, water filled channels and other irregularities designed to catch my knee. Fortunately the ground was not too wet and there was a track for part of the way. Quad bikes or similar had also left tracks I could follow. From the crest of the trail (when I eventually reached it) I could see a huge distance to distant towns and hills. Too hazy for good photos but uplifting, making me forget the tiredness I had accumulated over the previous 18 miles.

The plain from Crockbrack mountain.

In this exalted state I wondered about pushing on through Moneyneany to the next forest to camp. However the hillside going down from Crockbrack Mountain was too good a place to camp to miss with its extensive views, remoteness and lack of habitations, and as it was around 5 pm I chose a flattish, dryish spot to pitch my tent.




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