Slieveanora to Carnlough: E2 Day 33

A tiring day; rough, boggy moorland and forest to start and a long road walk, threatened by speeding cars to finish.

Listening to the patter of rain drops on your tent while cocooned in a warm sleeping bag is one of the great pleasures of camping. Unfortunately you then have to get up and pack, a more taxing experience as you try and keep everything dry. I left my well hidden camping spot about 7:00 am following a forest track to a road and from there I began my climb up Trostan, a mountain draped in wet moors. There were no definitive paths, just lines of mud that came and went among the moss, rushes and grasses. Occasional posts marked the route which I looked for as I struggled to avoid deep wet holes. The hummocky ground was not good for my knee, I could feel pain on the inner side where I knew the meniscus (the cartilage in the middle of the joint) had thinned. I was hoping my exertions would not make it go altogether, resulting in bone on bone contact. 

The Ulster Way (which shares the route with the Moyle Way) took me to south west of the summit and into forestry. Here the path, a brown line that passed between lines of planted conifers, was equally rough, with fallen trees, slippery roots and soupy peat into which my poles disappeared. The track itself often disappeared, reappearing a tree row or two to the left or right to avoid some obstacles. Inevitably my progress was slow, but the route was not without beauty, red toadstools dotted the rotting pine leaves beneath the trees. Later the path surfaced above a waterfall and gorge.

Forest path with red toadstools.

In time I crossed a road onto a forest track and another road into the Glenariff Forest Park. Here there were views down the narrow, deeply incised glen, which was choked with trees, living and fallen. At the subsequent car park there was a view down the main, broad valley of the Glenariff river, down to the sea, or there would have been if it were not for the drizzle which washed out all but the closest features. A shame as it seemed a handsome feature with a broad valley floor and steep sides, a break in slope on the south side maybe hinted at the underlying geology. More importantly there were toilets and a café by the car park, where I mingled with a Canadian coach party touring Ireland to order coffee and a sandwich. 

A road followed in which there seemed a large among of fuchsia growing wild in the hedgerows, something I also noticed yesterday. Then a path along side the small Glenariff River, which had been straightened and seemed to be used for field drainage. I could see pebbles beneath the clear water but no fish... or red squirrels which I was still looking out for.

In the village of Waterfoot there was a game that looked like rugby in progress with a good crowd of people watching and Irish flags on display. It was probably Gaelic football. I would have diverted and asked but I was tired by the morning's exertions and still had 15 kilometres to go. 

They were hazardous kilometres as the Ulster Way followed the main A2 road which was busy with cars and motorcycles. With two lanes, no pavement, blind bends and high hedges I did wonder if I had been wise to follow this route. A shame as there were attractive views across the sea to nearby high headlands and up the steep hillside. There were two sections where the trail diverted up less busy roads although at a cost of some climbing. One passed between large slabs of white rock and a college with an eclectic mixture of old, stone buildings and modern prefabricated units. An old, shiny black car stood outside, maybe a Ford Popular, the occupants inside enjoying their lunch.

A2 Coast Road

Carnlough was an attractive town with its old harbour. A bridge and an elevated section seemed to be associated with a long abandoned mineral railway. Some of the bikers that raced along the coast road were parked on the harbour, their Harley Davidsons and Royal Enfields smartly polished.

Carnlough harbour