Last Saturday I conquered Trostan, the 551 m summit of County Antrim, and hauled myself back home over a 700 km relentless but rewarding round-trip in my 32-County High Point Challenge! From that windswept trig-point, views stretched beyond the haze north to Rathlin Island, west to the Inishowen Peninsula in far off Donegal, east to the Mull of Kintyre and Scotland then just south to Slemish, the first known home of Saint Patrick, where he was enslaved; I climbed it on his feast day two years ago. Beneath my feet lay a mountain carved by basalt lava, long watched over by clans and cairns— this land was fought over by many chieftains and clans, both native Irish and of Scottish descent. Not far from Trostan Sorley Boy MacDonnell had a great victory at the Battle of Aura, following which they withdrew to Trostan, marking the spot with a cairn. Looking out to Rathlin brought fond memories of a trip many years ago with Tommy Wogan with one particular image being of the pair of us sitting on the top of the huge cliff edge watching RAF fighter jets flying low above the North Atlantic Ocean on a training mission. Never saw anything like it before or since! I hope to ride the ferry to Rathlin again sometime soon! Today though was about notching up my 24th County High Point, Trostan’s summit, yearning for the remaining eight high points still calling me onward to complete a few more before the onset of winter.
Looking down from Trostan into the Glens of Antrim, I wasn’t just seeing valleys and sea-cliffs — I was gazing into the cradle of Ulster hurling, where villages like Cushendall keep alive the flame of Ireland’s oldest game. Names like Sambo McNaughton and Neil McManus ring out here as proudly as any chieftain of old. In a county where nationalists often carried the heavy burden of politics and prejudice, the hurley and sliotar became more than sport — they were symbols of resilience, pride, and culture woven deep into the very fabric of the Glens. In villages like Cushendall, Cushendun, Glenariff and Loughgiel, the game is woven into identity and daily life, with the Ruairí Óg club in Cushendall standing as a powerhouse of Ulster hurling.
Hurling here isn’t just sport — it’s a cultural anchor. In an area where Irish music, song, and storytelling have long flourished, the clash of ash sticks on the pitch echoes a community’s resilience, pride, and belonging. Local festivals and the use of the Irish language keep that cultural thread alive in a way that still feels raw and rooted.
For nationalists in Antrim, especially during the difficult years of the Troubles, hurling and the GAA provided more than sport. They were safe havens of identity, places where Irish culture — language, music, games — could flourish against a backdrop of political tension and discrimination. To take the field in the maroon of the Ruairí Óg Club, the green and gold of Dunloy Cúchullains, the red and white of Loughiel Shamrocks or the black and amber of McQuillans Ballycastle was to play for more than points on a scoreboard: it was to declare pride in community and continuity of tradition. Terence ‘Sambo’ McNaughton, Neil McManus, Ally Elliott, the Donnelly’s, Liam Watson and Cloot McFetridge were as good a hurlers as any across the hurling strongholds.
Mention of Loughiel Shamrocks and I have to mention my good friends Bernie and Dermot Connolly of Corkey Road, who I met many years ago and with whom we stayed for a weekend when the lads were very young. True Gaels.
I knew from reading Kieron Gibbons guide book to Ireland’s County High Points that the approach to Trostan tended to be very soft and wet as it crosses a stretch of open bogland. It was no accident I took it on last weekend. The dry spell had made it spongy and nice to walk across. The climb follows markers for the Moyle Way / Ulster Way and involves climbing over a couple of stiles. On a day like last Saturday it was one of the easy High Points so far. The starting point is easily missed as it is on a remote minor road between Newtown-Crommelin and Cushendall / Cushendun and there was no information panel present on the day identifying it as a trailhead; a brick pedestal probably held a sign at some stage. There is only parking for 1 or 2 cars. It can also be claimed from the Glenariff Forest car park on the eastern side.
After finishing the climb I detoured into Cushendall and paid a quick visit into Sambos pub, the walls adorned with photos of hurling legends and signed jerseys. A GAA watering hole off ever there was one. The homeward journey brought me through Glenravel Glen, made famous by Bobby Sands who wrote a ballad about the blind fiddle player and poitín maker, ‘McIllhatton’ and sung by Christy Moore.
Spent the morning collecting the windfall from our sole pear tree (anyone for pears?) and gathering leaves so it was late enough heading up to Monaghan’s County High Point, Slieve Beagh. You see I thought this would be a doddle on a lovely Saturday evening! How wrong was I!
This climb caught me by surprise; at only 373 metres I reckoned I’d be up and down in no time and back home early. I passed through Clontibret and Scotstown on the way, two great football strongholds and both about to contest the County SFC Final. The amount of flags and bunting was fantastic and it was great to see the Club committees get behind their senior teams so wholeheartedly. They know what it takes. It’s a religion in these parts!
An Bhoth – Scotstown
Starting point is at this electronic gate above Knockatallon. It was 4pm by the time I arrived there and there’s a clear definable trail from here …. for about 200 metres …. and then it’s every explorer for themselves! After that it’s blanket bog all the way to the summit. And very very wet underfoot.
As the map shows, this part of Monaghan juts into counties Fermanagh and Tyrone and is called the ‘Three County Hollow”. It’s very isolated and a true wilderness. Sliabh Beagh is an important mountainous area shared between both jurisdictions. The mountain covers over 3000ha and contains a number of protected area designations: Special Area of Conservation (SAC), Area of Special Scientific Interest (ASSI), Ramsar wetland of international importance, National Nature Reserve (NNR) and Natural Heritage Area (NHA), in recognition of its importance for biodiversity.
I didn’t see any grouse but I had plenty of sightings of Snipe, which seem to wait until the very last moment and then suddenly take flight from the dense heather cover. Here’s a lovely drawing, by Eleanor Sutherland, which I saw on the National Parks website about ground nesting birds:
This is spongy bog territory; it’s muddy on the approach trail and then it’s pure heathland which is so difficult to cross. Imagine doing high knee lifts for 5kms with water up to your ankles and the ground trying to suck the boots off your feet!
Because of the absence of a defined trail and a lack of trail markers, it’s essential to have a map, physical or digital and to note the surrounding landmarks. The first landmark was Lough Antraicer on my left shortly after I started out.
As there is no defined route I took a more or less straight line over the crest of a hill, avoiding any bog holes and being especially careful not to twist an ankle or knee in these really difficult underfoot conditions. It’s a barren landscape, almost featureless and devoid of any sign of human habitation. The only sounds are the wind and the song birds. There are no roads and no man made constructions. In its own way it’s beautiful and walking here was a great way to clear the mind and live in the moment.
Knee high in heather, making walking very difficult and progress very slow.
Big sky country. Nothing but bog in all directions.
Finally, the summit. Marked by a solitary wooden post. It was glorious in its simplicity. Just beyond the post is Lough Sallagh, which was hidden from view until I climbed on the small mound at the top. Not far away from here was another lake, Shane Barnagh’s Lough and it has an interesting story. Shane Branagh was an Irish rebel in the 17th century, a bit of Robin Hood man, a highway man who robbed from the rich, the Protestant Ascendancy class and gave to the poor. He hid away in these isolated parts for a long time before finally being captured and brought to Dublin Castle where he was executed. His body was supposedly cast into the Lough of his name…
I was hoping I might pick up a trail when I arrived at the summit that might make the return easier but there was no sign so I turned around and headed back, spotting two hikers in the distance who were coming around the side of the hill that I had struggled over earlier. We exchanged a wave in the distance and they headed for the top. Being much younger and fitter it wasn’t long before they reached it and they quickly followed my path back to the starting point. Turned out the two young ladies, one from Portlaoise and the other from Monaghan, were also doing the County High Point Challenge and this was their 18th Point completed. They had climbed Cuilcagh (Stairway to Heaven), the Cavan High Point, in the morning! It took me about 2 hours to complete this walk and I was glad to finish in daylight as darkness was beginning to close in – I wouldn’t fancy crossing that bog at night!
This was one of the toughest walks I’ve done, even though it wasn’t very high or steep but it was 7kms of pure bog covered in heather. It was hard to pick level ground to plant a foot on and it was full of bog holes and surface water. Lifting a foot was like trying to defy gravity with the bog trying to pull the boots off! Not one I will do again but a great experience and it would be much nicer on a summers day!
Continuing my quest to climb the 32 county highest points, I travelled the short distance across to the stunning Slieve Bloom Mountains straddling the Laois – Offaly border. One of my favourite mountain ranges, it’s deceptively extensive and has some love Glens for a Sunday hike or drive. At just 527 metres in height it’s a short hike but tricky underfoot conditions make it one to be careful on! The starting point is behind the Laois Offaly border marker, pictured below, located in the Glendine Gap:
It descends steeply on a slippery path, with water flowing down it, into a boggy glen that’s very wet and impossible to cross without getting feet wet! It then ascends steeply for a short distance, again on a slippery soft path that tries to suck your boots off! Thankfully the rain that fell on the way across gave way to a beautiful blue sky on a crisp October afternoon.
The path crosses through a lot of heather and is well worn so it’s easy follow and almost impossible to get lost. It’s a sort distance to the summit from the car park of just about 1km but it takes maybe 20 minutes to climb up to the summit cairn. The summit is very exposed and a cold wind meant I wasn’t lingering too long while I briefly enjoyed the marvellous views of counties Laois, Offaly, Kilkenny, Tipperary and even south Galway.
Mountaineering Ireland have created a list of Irish mountains and summits and called it Arderins. Árderin literally translates as ‘Height of Ireland’, which it clearly isn’t but nonetheless it’s a great climb, one well worth doing on a fine day.
That’s summit 17 and 18 of 32 completed and hopefully I will get a few more done over the winter; not the best time of year for hillwalking but summer is usually for the bike! Had the added bonus of seeing a red squirrel today scampering up a tree nearby! Simple pleasures.
