In Reply to: Re: the majestic reek posted by native on August 10, 2011 at 09:20:58:

.....making the climb....

a cara.....looking back to those early days of mine....its strange and wonderfulhow memory takes me back in time.....the year was 1946.....ireland ...and of course castlebar was shedding the grip of war time restriction and rationing.....things were still scarce...and money was tight.....jam jars were still worth a halpenny for a 1lb. pot....and 2lb. pots were worth a penny.... marmalade croc pots were worth more.....i can still see michael byrne of main street in his horse and cart trekking up mchale road collecting the jars.... the summer of '46 was hot ....and i was on summer holidays from st.patricks n.s.........the curse of t.b. was rampant....and sanatariums were set up all over the place....belmullet....creagh house outside ballinrobe...castlrea....and merlin park.....peamount tended to the young victims.....and the fever hospital in swinford was in operating on overload....in july of that year my dad told me he would take me to the reek on the last saturday night of july.....this was the "official" date of its annual pilgimmage.....he also told me he would take me to wesport by train...and from there we would take the bus to the reek.....i was filled with excitement....as i wanted to go to the top of the reek .....not for salvation...but rather to see if st. patrick left any snakes ..for its reported that from his lofty perch on the top of the reek ...he bannished serpents from ireland and drove them into clew bay......or shamrock....after all legend has it ...patrick himself.....annointed the shamrock...firstly as his analogy of the holy trinity....and a emblem of ireland ...making the plant ...or weed an interntional symbol of our country.....and making it a very profitable enterprise every march.....i counted the days down to that last saturday.....and when the day arrived it was a typical west of ireland day....the sky wore its usual mantle of dark sultry low clouds.......fast moving and secreting....what we in ireland call a soft rain.....as we moved in towards dinner time....the conditions worsened.....the rain got heavier.....and we were locked into a bad day...my dad suggested if these conditions prevailed ....i wouldnt be making the trip.....the train was due at 7p.m. and i was getting sad that all would be called off.....but after tea....i was told to get ready ....we set off for the station......and my adrenalin began to pump...i was filled with excitement ....and curiosity....i was about to experience two firsts in one night.....my first train trip.....and climbing the reek.....we got to the station....and there were lots of people on the platform....mr. foy stood in his signal box...hands controlling the signal levers.......soon i saw he made his way from the box to the platform....with a metal baton in his hand ....i was curious of this and later i discovered he exchanged this with the driver of the train for one he was given back...." evenin' jimmy "...he said as he walked by my father...as he took hos place at the end of the platform......the thick black smoke of the train could be seen down at the baloor end of the track......chug...chug....puff...puff.....it grunted as it made its way to the station......as it coasted by the platform....it gushed steam....in loud hisses.......castlebar....castlebar....castlebar....was yelled out...as the iron horse made its stop......i was anxious to gragb one of those big handles that opened the big green doors of the carriage.......in we got ...standing room only......i heard a whistle....a hiss of steam ...a chug...a puff...and slowly we ...eased from the station.....slowly picking up speed we moved out of the station...saleen was to the left....and i saw my lake as i never had before.....i listened to the grinding of the wheels on its great iron rails.....now we moved around the lake ....and langstons hill was in view......we steamed towards ballymacragh....here i noticed a few travellers had set up camp not far from the track.......soon we approached islandaedy...and mr bradley ....station signal man did his thing as we stopped at islandaedy.....more people got on and soon again we were on our way.....i noticed a few people go into joyces.....the hal;f way house....and as we moved towards wesport......i imagined musical strains of tony chambers band comming from the gaiety.....we had a full head of steam....as we approached wesport......the train had its coach lights on ...and i remember how magical this seemed.......we arrived at wesport station and we gheaded down town to get the bus for murrisk....we queued by the bus stop and busses came in convoy .....now we were on our way.....my first cie bus ride too......the atmoshere on the bus was animated ....lively ....and drunk.....but it was mighty.....i got my first litany of unedited bullshit...as people cacaphonied and garbled about how many times they climbed and how ...holy they were....i thought i heard one individual mention an apparition.....i guess too many guinness in the railway bar will do that.....we headed out towards the reek via the quays.....fickering lights could be seen from scattered houses.....and loud crashing noises echoed from the atlantic...as big swells and waves crashed oof the walls......a distict sea smell wafted.....all too soon we arrived and i had to get off my magical tour bus ride.......off we got at the foot of the reek......the pub at the base of the reek was packed.....and locals were in force ....selling ....shticks for the reek......i looked up the mountain ....i was amazed at the continuous string of flash lights from those climbing and descending.....we set off on our climb.....i noticed how rocky the trail was....but it was easy....we were now in a procession type format...as we amde our way to the first station.....people chanted the rosary....and beat their breasts...in penitance .....soon we arrived at the statue of st. patrick......here in he stood omnipotent ...and strong....not one bit tired from his hike from armagh.....round and round we went in continuous rosary.....i wondered where patrick got the shamrock on the mountain.....for on this barren ruggedness i could not imagine anything ...but perhaps snakes.....as we broke from the station...and headed up....i noticed a a stall seeling guinness....i was cinvinced then ...guinness was good for you...just like their posters said.....as we moved away low and behold ...i noticed a lost prayer book on the ground......i picked it up and to my amazement inside...i found a shamrock......neatly placed between pages.....ah!...but not three leaves .....four.....i was given the luck and kiss of the irish.....as a way from patrick.....a 4 leaved shamrock....we moved on to the next station.....as drizzle rain and ...fog .....washed us in irish dew......second station ...same as the first...minus patrick......as we moved on the climb took on a more demanding push.....the trail meandered onto slate rock...that slid and bruised......from my perch i tokk alook out at clew bay....the lighthouse light on the islands ....rotated in in marine beats....it was like a dream....we climbed and climbed.......tea stands ....beeer stands....straddled the path....as the holy pilgrims got more drunk....and more visionary.....i looked up towards the hump.....and the outline of the church broke through the sullen night.....we stood outside the church...and listened as amss was been said......after some prayer....i looked out....into the dark....night....this was awesome....the view....of clew bay.....and the line of lights that seemed to bob and weave in dance.....i picked up a couple of rocks to take home....a piece of heather.....and we headed down.....slipping and sliding we made our way.......until once again we were on the that easy grade...where i picked up on the musical symphony of the mountain stream ...as it rushed over rock and creg ....as it seemed to entertain with its babling brook like music.....we arrived back at st patricks statue....i bade him farewell...until next time....and then made our way to the the ground......sins were forgiven....feet were bruised....and a mug of strong tea went down a treat before we headed back to castlebar.....not by bus but in a police car...courtesy of det hernan...who was there officially ....and was personal friend of my dad....."goin' back to castlebar jimmy..."...he enquired....i can give you a lift he said....and so we headed home in the custody of the siocholonie.....i have climbe the reek many times since and each climb had a different tale......i never did meet patrick.....and i never found redemption....but i did find magic.....and experience on the holy mount of mayo....i found beauty...and memories that are as alive today....as the day i made my first climb.....i have been to many art gallerys in many parts of the world...but i have never been to a gallery...that had the beauty....of irelands natural raw ...terrible beauty.....far across yonder blue ...lies a true fairy land......

.....tog go bog e.......