Dublin Mountains Way (2018)
Beautiful nature on a stone’s throw from the big city

Shankill is a Dublin suburb and this Friday morning main street is crowded with commuters and busses to the city centre. That’s how close the big city is. And there’s supposed to be a hike here? The Irish think so and in the 47 km Dublin Mountains Way they have a gorgeous trail right in their backyard.

Day 1: Shankill – Cruagh, 30 km
I start hiking without pomp of ceremony. After a few streets I cross the highway and after a few streets more there’s the first gravel road. There’s also a small, stone cross that looks centuries old. Just like that, next to a house’s hedge. The route climbs slowly and I hike in between pine trees and flowering gorse. When the trees recede I have a beautiful view of the see on which the sun is joyously bouncing. The way marking is excellent, but I do have to pay attention, I remind myself when I thoughtlessly pass by a yellow hiker. Then there’s an arrow to the left, which I follow, although I am surprised to be walking towards the sea again. That means I am going south and to reach Tallaght I really have to go north. Still, I don’t mind because I am approaching two striking peaks, one of which is shrouded in smoke. That’s too much for a farmer burning debris. Perhaps a moor fire, controlled or otherwise. At the next junction I can’t find a way marker and I turn on my GPS to confirm my suspicion: I am at the wrong place. Backtracking I spot a grey squirrel and later I pass by the faulty way marker. At the edge of the forest I encounter yellow hikers again and this time they are pointing in the right direction. Soon I can leave the wide forest path and swing across the rock strewn  hill. It may not be the Alps, but the rocks emphasize I am indeed in the mountains. The way marks are abundant and getting lost is impossible. The route quickly descends until I reach a kissing gate towards a road. I follow it upwards towards a gas station and cross it not much later to a ski slope under construction. This is one of the newer sections of the trail, because the gravel is fresh and the wood of the kissing gates still yellow with newness. Another road which dips and climbs just as fast. There’s more traffic here, but the Irish drive carefully and I don’t feel unsafe for a second. The sea is to my right now, just where I expected it. A cargo ship is waiting motionless and behind a peninsula curls towards the sea gracefully. Thus I reach Ireland’s highest pub in Glencullen. Although Celtic music is playing, the pub looks dark and closed. I hike on towards Gap, an adult playground with a large trail for mountain bikers and motocross riders. Here to a café and because it’s just about lunchtime I stop for a delicious glass of cold milk. I pinch a banana from the fruit bowl too. What a lovely and healthy idea. While runners and mountain bikers enter , I continue the hike. I don’t see any yellow men anymore, but Gap has a way marked trail and it’s the only one, so it must be right. Still I start questioning myself and when I don’t see any markers on the forest edge I turn back to ask for directions. I was right though and this time a yellow man puts me at easy, ten meters past the point where I turned back. Now and again a group of mountain bikers goes past and where the trail and the hiking trail intersect there are clear warning signs. After I emerge from the forest a long fire break follows to Three Rocks, a hill with a gorgeous view of Dublin and, unsurprisingly, three large rocks. There’s also four masts laden with satellite dishes and while I go past another one is hoisted up. I get it, but it’s still a shame. I descend to a treeless hill, a brown carpet of heather, not overgrown by grass or pine trees. This is healthy moor, the kind where I would expect a grouse. And darn, I have barely finished the thought or a brown female trots ahead of me on the path and later flies away silently. From my right the Wicklow Way joins the trail and I meet John from Dublin. He was supposed to hike the trail with his three brothers, but they have all canceled on him, leaving him alone on his way to Knockaree. John is hiking fast, but it’s nice to have a chat.  At the divergence we say goodbye. That there are pleny of hikers here can also be deduced from the amount of litter, wrapping from a chocolate bar over here and a plastic sandwich baggie over there. Even a bottle on a pine tree branch. I take what I can to dispose of later, but have to leave a lot unfortunately. A next hill, a new attraction: a prehistoric tomb. The circular central chamber lacks a keystone, but it’s still an impressive sight. I descend and pass a high rope course, where several groups are playing antics among the trees. By now it’s 16.00 hours and with only a few stops I have been hiking since 08.00 o’clock. I see several places where I would gladly pitch my tent, but wild camping is not allowed here. One more hill, I promise myself. Then I will stop at the first possible farm. The hill is not hard or high and I soon I am at another road. I climb, but when the route veers into the forest again, I am done for the day. I walk on towards two houses. The first is vacant and at the second the door isn’t being answered. When I walk back I see a woman with a child at the first house. It turns out they are not the owners and therefore they dare not offer me a field behind the house. But they do direct me to a parking lot where they have seen tents pitched often. I hike back and find the parking lot effortlessly. Two women recommend finding a sheltered spot, as loitering youths sometimes use the park as well. I follow their advice and pitch my tent a ways back into the forest.

Dag 2: Cruagh wood - Tallaght, 17 km
I wake up early and already a radiant sun glimpses past the trees. I sleep in, listening to the birds. Then I pack up my gear and start walking. Soon I am back on the trail and after  a short stretch there’s Killakee forest. It’s been harvested recently and  a new generation of trees stand ready in their plastic tubes. The call of a cuckoo echoes across the young forest. I end up at a road and follow it downwards. A woodlark poses on flowering gorse and I am happy. At Piperstown I turn. It’s no city, just a modest collection of houses and scattered farms. The view of the hills on the other side of Glenasmole is enjoyable, but the route is nothing special  anymore, apart from a pied wagtail, darker than the usual white wagtails we have in the Netherlands. Past Castlekelly Bridge I leave the tarmac again to hike past Bohernabreena reservoir. The shade shrubs offer is most welcome and a spell later I cross the grassy path across dam. Nice and soft on my feet. Once past the reservoir I cross the road to Kiltipper park, of which I can only say that it is green. The final green before I reach the outskirts of Tallaght. Two boring city parks later I reach the end of the Dublin Mountains Way: a sign at a parking lot across from a petting zoo. As unceremoniously as I started this trail I finish it today. A nice enough  trail, the first day especially makes it worthwhile.