Sligo Way, Ireland: Some Comments

For 81 kilometres the Sligo Way spans the eponymous Irish county. Falling into three parts, the first is among mountains and by lakes (or loughs) often on gravel tracks. The second is on quiet roads through farmland raising cows and sheep. I thought the best part, and the one I recommend if you only spend one day on this trail, was the third section, from Collooney this went through woods, around mountains, by Lough Gill ending at the ruins of Creevelea Friary and the village of Dromahair.

The route is well waymarked with a walking yellow person symbol, although a map or GPS track is needed as waymarks may be missed or absent at critical junctions. Underfoot the trail is in good condition although there is quite a bit of walking on quiet roads. Accommodation is an issue, I resorted to wild camping and catching a train to Sligo one night (however, I thought the town was well worth the diversion). Shops and cafes are almost exclusively in the middle section, around the villages of Coolaney and Collooney. Three or four days is needed to complete the route.

I walked the route in April, which avoided the midges.

My route on the Sligo Way can be found at https://www.wikiloc.com/hiking-trails/sligo-way-ireland-102443719 .

Bent over walking person waymark, with a sign for a Gaelic Athletic Association pitch.

Lough Gill to Dowra: E2 Day 15

Good progress today in three counties, 40 kilometres covered, dry in the morning then persistent rain began and never stopped, rather dampening my mood.

Of the three counties I began in County Sligo, waking to a joyous dawn chorus, not that it was much of a chorus as the birds were all singing different songs. Above my tent a robin was belting out periodic stanzas of high pitched song, a cuckoo echoed in the distance to a background of cheerful chirping and chiruping. Later I heard crows, coal tits and a song thrush, my identification aided by the BirdNet App on my phone. For the first time camping on this trip I only had two layers of clothing on in my sleeping bag, the second only added in the early hours, nor was there any frost on my tent. Although the sky was overcast, the avian orchestra sent me off in a happy mood, pleased with my choice of campsite last night.

After woods, rush filled fields, and roads I reached Dromahair and the end of the Sligo Way. Just before the village lies the ruins of Creevelea Abbey. Founded in 1508 it was finally abandoned in the 17th century, closure forced by the soldiers of the English Oliver Cromwell. I was surprised that the ruins still seemed to be used to bury people, a few of the gravestones were recent. Beyond the ruins a path through trees by a river delivered me to the village centre. Dromahair was blessed by a Centra supermarket that had a coffee machine and seats inside where I was able to enjoy some breakfast. Nearby I saw a van advertising "Boxty" products, which reminded me of the Boxty bread (made from potatoes) that my future wife had cooked for me to eat for lunch between my final exams at University. 

Creevelea Abbey with more recent gravestones.

Now in County Leitrim, I needed to reach my next "Way", the Miner's Way. I planned to join it in the village of Drumkeeran. In deciding on the route, there was a tension between choosing the shortest, or selecting one which avoided busy roads. My selected route was almost all on minor roads with little traffic, running to the south of the main road. They led me through hills among sheep and cows in  fields often populated by clumps of rushes. There were a few conifer plantations. I considered following a track through one of the larger plantations but on reconnoitring there was the usual "No Authorised Personnel" and "Tree Felling" signs. The maps also failed to convince me that the track went all the way through the plantation, so I stayed on the roads, although (as usual) I could neither see nor hear any evidence of tree felling in action.

Cows in poor pasture in the hills beside the lanes I was following.

Drumkeeran had a café open, so I settled in to a good lunch. The kind owner refilled my plastic water bladder and refused a tip! Gentle rain was falling as I left the café, and it was continuous for the rest of the day, at various intensities, but all of them wet. Possibly this affected my impression of the Miner's Way which I was now following a small part of. From what I could see from under the hood of my anorak, the farmland, like that earlier, consisted of fields of poor quality sheep and cow pasture. The roads the Miner's Way followed were unusually straight. In Britain I would have thought them Roman roads, but the Roman's left Ireland alone, never invading. A consequence of the undeviating progress was that that the roads went up and down some very steep sided hills. Supposedly a route once used by Miners, I wondered why they did not pick a more gentle path. A sheep with her lambs, and later a single sheep, annoyed me. They kept going ahead of me on the road as if I was herding them, and I saw the potential for me to herd them for several kilometres to a point far from where they belonged. Admittedly the walls, hedges and barbed wire designed to keep them in fields also prevented them from leaving the road. Eventually they did turn off somewhere. Maybe the roadside would look attractive in the sunlight, the sloe coming into white blossom, bushes and trees in green bud, sporadic scatterings of primroses, pale yellow against the green grass of the verge. Farther away I could see lakes dimly through the grey of the falling rain. Good visibility would no doubt improve my impressions of the Miner's Way.

My walk on the unnaturally straight roads of one part of the Miner's Way (in the rain).

Reaching the village of Dowra, with the rain and landscape making camping unattractive, I took the advice of the lady at the Tourist Information Office at Ballina, and asked at a bar about accommodation. After a discussion between the barman and two customers at the bar, asking at the bar next door was suggested. Then a seated man offered to put me up at his house, however it was 20 miles away. I did not wish to impose on his kindness and envisaged problems returning to Dowra for the next stage of my walk. So I declined, trying my best not to offend, although he probably thought me a funny chap!

Not being able to spot the other bar (at least not an open one), I gave up and started on the Cavan Way, for now I was in my third county of the day, County Cavan, having crossed County Leitrim in a single day. Unfortunately I had trouble finding a suitable spot to camp. After putting a bit of distance between myself and the village, the trees in the subsequent woodland all seemed to be sitting in puddles of water. The farmland also looked inauspicious. Fields of rushes, stones and mud, pock marked by the hooves of cows and sheep, and generally waterlogged. In time the route left the road on a path which followed the River Shannon. Not wishing to walk anymore I pitched by the path on a patch of uneven ground avoiding wetter areas, although with the continuing rain I am hoping the I will still be dry in the morning. 

My road route from Dromahair to Drumkeeran can be found on Wikiloc.com or Outdooractive .

Collooney to Lough Gill: E2 Day 14

Today was definitely had the best stretch of the Sligo Way; off road, through mountains and by the waters of Lough Gill on good paths.

As I  was unable to find accommodation at Dromahair I was planning to wild camp a little before. It was farmland around the village unsuitable for camping but there was woodland nearer the waters of Lough Gill. To avoid arriving at my planned camping location too early, I left Sligo on the 11:05 train for the short journey to Collooney. From there the Sligo Way took me into Union Wood. So very different from the regimented conifer plantations I had been walking through, this was a mature, mixed, amenity woodland, being enjoyed by a variety of people (including children so I assume the Easter School Holidays have begun in Ireland). Efforts were being made to encourage native species of tree and eliminate aliens such as rhododendron and laurel. As a noticeboard extolled the fine views from Union Rock, I diverted to this summit climbing up on its boardwalk. At the top, from the rounded outcrops of a type of rock called gneiss, there was indeed a panorama to the north and west. To the north I now knew that the "table top" mountain I had seen previously was Benbulbin, its flat top formed by a hard limestone layer. To the west were the Ox Mountains I had recently walked over.

After woodland for a few kilometres the trail entered open moorland, wrapping itself around mountains and exploring valleys. In sheltered places rhododendron had replaced the grass, heather and rushes of the heath. As the path was on the hillside, generous and changing vistas could be seen, now across farmland and villages, later over mountains. Considerable efforts had been made to create a good trail, with a lot of gravel having been laid to avoid the path turning to mud (as it was in patches where gravel was missing, encouraged by the passage of mountain bikes). There was also a bench, placed by a small lake, an excellent spot for lunch. Although overcast, only a few splatters of rain fell, enough to break out the waterproof over trousers but not enough to dampen the day's mood.

Lough Lumman, a lake with a handy bench for eating lunch.

At length, the trail dropped down into woodland, descending into a valley with a busy road running along it. To avoid the traffic for a while the trail shot up a very steep slope to join a minor road which made an equally violent descent to reach the main road, which was then followed for only a short distance. 

Lough Gill.

The highlight of today was the subsequent walk through Slish Wood  and subsequently around the southern shores of Lough Gill. My route was along the side of a steep hillside with the waters of the large lake, lapping on my left, and trees, mainly conifers rising up the mountainside on my right. Nearer the lake there were birch and other species. Signs today said they were ultimately aiming to recreate the oak woodland that once existed here before man's intervention. Towards the latter part of my lakeside ramble, a boardwalk took the Sligo Way over open moorland between the lake and the trees, which had the benefit that waterside trees did not obscure the view over the Lough. Of the several islands one was particularly famous. Where the Sligo Way eventually parted from the lake there was a special spot, a little jetty and an information board referring to the island of Innisfree, visible from this position. Famous as Yeats wrote a poem about it. The poem ends:

I hear the lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;

While I stand on the roadway, or an pavement grey,

I hear it in the deep heart's core.

I am not sure Yeats would have approved of St Angela's college on the opposite side of the lake. While I am sure it does fine work, its architecture does intrude on the bucolic landscape.

Isle of Innisfree viewed from the jetty viewing point.

I was approaching the point where I needed to find a campsite. A sign described some nearby patches of the "People's Millennium Forest", part of a project in which native trees have been planted in woodlands across the country to celebrate entry into the third millennium, one tree for each member of Ireland's population. I diverted into one of these, walking up a little used track (at least by humans, there were plenty of deer hoof prints). Finding a flat, dry area where the track began to fade I pitched my tent. On each side of me, growing among jumbled, green, moss covered boulders, birch trees and a few pines watched over my sleeping place in a kindly, gentle way.

Ladies Brae to Collooney and Sligo: E2 Day 13

A shorter walk today through forest and farmland to Collooney, where I caught a train to Sligo, childhood home of Yeats. 

Mural with a poem by Yeats in Sligo.

Despite the uneven ground, the best I could find on a wet, hummocky moor, I slept well, albeit in the same position all night, the only vaguely comfortable one wrapped around tussocks of grass hidden beneath my groundsheet. Windy but no frost this morning, and the day was generally dry even if the overcast sky spoilt the dawn.

Streetlights were still on in some distant town as I headed over a hill on a minor road. Although the first forests I went through were fenced off and uninviting, later woods might have made a passable camp site. However you never know what is coming up when looking for a place to pitch and I was soon in farmland that would have been unsuitable. Houses, mostly looking modern or in good condition, dotted the roadside in a sporadic fashion alternating with fields of sheep. Lambs were playing together, frolicking about in the fields ("gambolling" is the usual word used), still in their curious stage they came up to look at me. I stopped, thinking to photograph them. This alerted their mothers, who came over calling them back, and giving me a confrontational stare. I noticed the lambs and sheep had numbers sprayed on them, I suppose so the farmer knew which lambs belong to which sheep.

In my imagination the Mountain Inn in Coolaney had been an old, stone built affair among the foothills. Reality was a modern building on the plains, although mountains could be seen to the north (I was surprised the Sligo Way did not run along the mountain ridge, maybe landowner permission was an issue). The Inn was a cream colour similar to the surrounding houses (and church), giving the settlement a fresh, new appearance. It was also closed (although a smell of bacon cooking came from somewhere). My desires were however met by a shop near the centre of the village with a coffee machine. I drank my latte and ate my banana and hot cross bun on a stone wall by a Sligo Way noticeboard in a little square. Really I should have followed the Riverside trail but instead walked down the main street in search of coffee (my first for 48 hours).

Based on my map I had reconciled myself to walking on roads all today, but there was one stretch of "Greenway", a gravel path with low contorted trees beside it, and also primroses for a stretch. Later a busier road ran beside an abandoned railway line for a short way, some of the rails still in place. The council needs to convert it into a Greenway as well, before the adjacent landowners grab it.

Section of Greenway with primroses.

Maybe ruins of ancient town house.

After two nights wild camping and no immediate prospect of anything else for a while, I decided to catch the train for the short ride from Collooney to Sligo, where there were plenty of places to stay. I managed another takeaway coffee (and an over-baked mini Bakewell tart stuffed with berries) before the train arrived to whisk me away to the big city.

Sligo was a place to shop for food for the next few days. I also needed more batteries, my GPS ran through a pair off AA batteries in just half a day, whereas they usually last four days (maybe it was the cold, or the effect of condensation). I also visited the ruined 13th century Abbey and looked at the wall paintings around the town related to Yeats the poet. He spent much of his childhood here and the area inspired his poetry. 

Over an evening meal at a "Gastropub" by the fast flowing river that ran through the town, I pondered on the next few days. I had been unable to find accommodation and it was not the best country for wild camping....

Sligo Abbey.

Start of Sligo Way to Ladies Brae: E2 Day 12

A sunny day walking by moorland, farmland, lakes and mountains with views towards the sea and distant mountains. 

Hail had rattled against my tent's flysheet overnight and I woke this morning to find a covering of ice drops fused to the nylon with solid pieces of ice moulded into its various folds. So much for the west coast of Ireland having a mild climate! Hailstones lay thickly on the grass in shadows for a few hours but eventually melted as the sun increased in strength, and I gradually shed more layers of clothing. 

My day began with a long straight gravel track, in time rising up the hillside. Each side of me was moorland, rushes growing in a peaty, waterlogged soil. Several cottages stood a little way off the track in various states of abandonment and decay. Once the area must have supported many families, trying to pull a meagre living from the wet, boggy soil. Nowadays it supports sheep on the rough ground and conifer plantations. A few green fields show that the land can be improved by drainage and hard work but there is land more generous to the farmer elsewhere. 

Abandoned farm.

On cresting a hill I saw Lough Easkey, its waters enclosed by the hills around it. After a welcome bench and a length of boardwalk I joined a track around the top of the lake which led to a small, quiet tarmac road. On the other side of the lake a farmer's red van with its trailer was reflected off the still waters of the lake.

Later I passed the entrance to one of the many wind farms in the area. Their white, sculptured arms moving sluggishly or not at all today. I pontificated that they should be taller, like ones I had seen in Austria, rising to many times the height of the trees in order to catch the wind.

After dropping down into farmland I was on single track roads for much of the day which periodically rose up and down the foothills of the mountains that rose to my right. Farms and white single storey houses dotted the route. After a small lake, at the base of a furrowed, frowning hillside, I joined the road up Ladies Brae (some wit had defaced the sign by painting over the final "e"). There were expansive views for much of the day, but those from Ladies Brae were particularly good once I had climbed up it. Cars and a cyclist were stopping to look. I could see the down to the little houses among the green fields of the coastal plain and out to the sea beyond, Ranges of mountains stretched across the north east, one with a distinct "table top" appearance, with a flat plateau above steep slopes.

View from the route, the white bungalows on the coastal plain before the sea stand out.

Flat topped mountain to the north.

Finding a camping spot proved difficult. The sides of the road were fenced and "No Trespassing" signs hung on the gates. On the other side of the wire there were either trees, closely spaced in irregular ground, low branches and numerous plastic bags, or else tussocky, wet moorland. Eventually I opted for the moorland in an unfenced section, but I fear for a difficult night on the uneven mounds of vegetation beneath my tent's groundsheet. The alternative was a layby beside the road, but I could have attracted unwelcome attention. 

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.