‘Welchen weg?” “Sorry?” “Harruntubhewl?” “Oh, Carrauntoohil, it’s that way – but don’t you have a map and compass?
“Nein.”
The German couple were standing in pea-soup mist at Lough Eighter. Ireland’s noblest peaks lay above – but today were ominously shrouded. I wasn’t concerned, however, for my objective was a fairly short ramble around Coomloughra Glen. Pointing them in the direction of the Caher Ridge, I felt obliged to add: “Wouldn’t it better to leave it for clearer weather?
Earlier, I departed the Hydro-Road car park – on a route I hiked and liked 20 years ago, but neglected to repeat. Initially, it was unsympathetically steep, but the path eventually swung right, and relented on the approach to the opaque spookiness of the Lough Eighter shoreline. Here the Germans disappeared into the mist and I tagged the north shore of the lake.
Beyond Eighter, the path weaved upwards to the outfall stream from much larger Lough Coomloughra as the mighty peaks above me remained just an abstract concept. Opting for the north shore of the Lough, I continued deeper into what is undoubtedly Ireland’s most memorable amphitheatre. Reaching the rocky isthmus, which in dry weather separates Coomloughra from Lough Eagher, I discovered high water meant no crossing was possible, so I continued along the northern shore of Eagher.
Steepening ground made the going a little problematic until I reached the stream tumbling into Eagher from the cliffs of Caher. Gazing across the tranquil waters, I was struck by the timelessness of the landscape – had Cúchulainn or St Patrick chanced this way, they would have enjoyed almost exactly the same vision.
Dragging myself back to reality, a rather indistinct and sometimes steep path along the Eagher shoreline led me back to Lough Coomloughra. One final obstacle of a rocky outcrop by the lakeshore presented few problems. Beyond, I paused to absorb the eerie austerity before me. Pondering how the German couple were fairing, I noticed the mist lifting like a great grey theatre curtain. I gazed transfixed as up and up it rose. First Shregmore, then Beenkeragh took a bow before Carrauntoohil finally emerged in a blaze of sunshine. Within a couple of minutes my vista was transformed from misty and rather menacing to beguiling and benign.
Clusters of climbers were now discernible ascending easily towards Ireland’s roof. Fortune had obviously favoured my German acquaintances and concern was now replaced with a pang of envy for their luck to summit Carrauntoohil on such a magnificent day.
Regretfully, I made my way around Coomloughra before retracing my steps to the Lough Eighter outfall. Then, it was easily down the Hydro Road to my startpoint. I concluded that Coomloughra Glen is for a clear day when it offers a not overdemanding option for getting close and personal with Ireland’s loftiest mountains.
Start. Leave Killarney by the N72. At Fossa head for the Gap of Dunloe. Continue, ignoring signs for the Gap and Carrauntoohil, until a T-junction is reached. Go left for 3km and your startpoint is a car park on the left.
Terrain. Requires sturdy footwear. Mild scrambling involved.
Time. 3.75 hours Ascent. 400m
Distance. 9km
Map. Discovery sheet, 78