My first attempt at long distance hiking
I walked until I couldn’t walk anymore, and then I walked some more.
My experience hiking the Wicklow Way as a beginner.
For my 28th birthday, I decided to face my fears and go on a hiking/backpacking trip along the Wicklow Way.
The Wicklow Way is a 5-7 day, 129km hike across the Wicklow mountains starting at Marley Park, Dublin and ending in Clonegal, Carlow. Here’s how my trip went.
I’m one of those people who dream about doing trips and adventures like this but never actually push myself to do it. So after getting sick of hearing myself talk about it and not taking action, I decided to just go for it. I had just under a month to prepare when I made that decision, which I would say is just enough time for a beginner.
Day 1:
Marley Park to Powerscourt Waterfall, 16 miles, 40,000+ steps
I was nervous to start but once I got out of the city and into the mountains, I instantly felt at ease. The first climb was difficult with a heavy pack I wasn’t used to carrying. When I had almost reached the first peak (Two Rock) I felt a bit of doubt creep in. What have I got myself into. I pushed through, dripping in sweat, and that doubt subsided as quickly as it had appeared.
Stopping for lunch at a bridge just before the next climb, I ate my peanut butter wrap and aired out my feet. A couple of other hikers passed by, one of which I would keep running into and ended up camping with.
On I went, refuelled and ready for the next climb. Halfway up I realised I had dropped my cap and had to go all the way back down to get it. Learning the hard way to make sure everything is properly secured to your pack.
The views were beautiful, the sun was shining and I was excited to reach my first camping spot. But it was a long way from the start, probably too far for day 1. However, I was determined to stick to my plan and despite my aching muscles and sore feet, I pushed on up and down the mountains and finally rounded the corner to see Powerscourt Waterfall. What a reward for a long day of hiking.
Night 1, Glensoulan Valley
I made my way to the campsite, not too much further on from the waterfall and set up my first camp for the night. A lovely stream runs through the campsite so I was able to refill my water and soak my feet in the cold water.
I enjoyed my first night, cooked my dinner and watched a herd of deer from my tent.
Day 2:
Powerscourt to Glendalough, 13 miles, 35,000+ steps
When I woke, my feet were still sore but I packed up my tent, put on my boots and hoped for the best. I wasn’t ready for the views that were in store for me that day. Climbing up Djouce (at 2379ft high) is no small task but the reward is more than worth it. There’s something magical about standing on the top of a mountain, surrounded by other mountains. It makes you feel on top of the world. From there, you ramble along the mountaintops until you’re overlooking Lough Tay (otherwise known as the Guinness Lake).
At this stage my feet were very sore and walking was beginning to get very difficult. But I still had a long way to go so I pressed on and tried not to think about the pain. “Its only day 2!” I told myself. The Wicklow Way is very well signposted, with little yellow men and arrows directing you the whole way. In addition to this, I used the Hiiker app on my phone to check the route when I wasn’t sure, as well as track distances, find facilities and help me plan my itinerary.
The vast and open mountaintops turn into winding forested paths. I stopped in a lush meadow for lunch and assessed the damage on my feet. I can’t say I was surprised to see big blisters on my heels and toes, including a big blood blister which was quite disturbing to see. Patching my feet up with blister plasters, I kept going, aiming to make it to Brusher Gap Shelter.
Along the Wicklow Way are 3 Adirondack type shelters built by volunteers as rest stops for weary hikers. Unfortunately these shelters get used by people just looking for a drinking session and they end up leaving all their rubbish there as well as blow up mattresses, heavy pots and pans and other junk that they didn’t feel like taking back with them. I even saw abandoned tents left in the woods by the shelter.
During my hike I saw lots of wildlife including many deer along the paths, a variety of interesting birds, and even a rare red squirrel in the woods. I really enjoyed walking in solitude and I felt more connected to the nature around me, noticing the surrounding beauty everywhere I went. I tried to use this time to let my mind be quiet but I usually ended up with a random cheesy song stuck on a loop in my head.
So after reaching Brusher Gap Hut, and despite my painful feet, I decided to keep walking. Besides, it was only about 4pm at that stage and I wasn’t ready to set up camp just yet.
Night 2, Glenmacnass River
I walked down into the valley, getting closer to Glendalough and found a nice place to camp along the Glenmacnass River, near Laragh. After two long, hot, and sweaty days, I was ready for a wash so I decided to take a dip in the river, it would do my feet some good to cool off as well. The water was freezing and the tide strong but after a few seconds, I relaxed into it felt refreshed and a little bit cleaner.
That night, I hobbled around camp, trying my best to avoid unnecessary walking trips but you don’t realise how much you use your feet until every step is agony.
After 2 days of walking in the hot sun, I was tired and fell asleep before it even got dark, hoping that my feet would miraculously heal overnight.
Day 3:
Glendalough to Glenmalure, 10 miles, 31,000 steps
I woke with the sun pouring through the trees and into my tent. Unzipping the door, I was surrounded with the most vibrant green. The sun backlighting all the foliage, ferns and forest dwellers so that it looked like it was almost glowing. Unfortunately my feet didn’t feel any better and I was starting to doubt whether I would be able to carry on with my trip. The last thing I wanted to do was just give up. So, grimacing with every step, I finished my coffee, packed up my tent and made my way to Glendalough, only a mile away.
I’ve visited Glendalough many times over the years but have never seen it so deserted. Usually there are bus loads of tourists and the hotel and restaurant there are bustling with people. Covid has hit tourism hard all over the world and this was the first time I had witnessed its affects in person. Having said that, I did enjoy having the place almost to myself. Only having to share it with a few photographers and walkers.
Walking only 1 mile from camp seemed to confirm my biggest fear; that I was going to have to quit the Wicklow Way and go home. This realisation struck me like a tonne of bricks. I was finally living out one of my dreams and it was going to have to be cut short. I sat on the pebbles overlooking the lake and thought about my options.
No longer had I just sat down, than a friendly little duck was waddling up the beach towards me, softly quacking for free snacks. I gave him some of my cracker and he ate it straight out of my hand, joined shortly after by a few of his mates. After sharing a few crackers, they were satisfied and waddled off back to their busy lives, leaving me once again on my own and faced with a difficult decision.
I knew that if I decided to quit there and then, I would always have wondered what if I had kept going, just pushed a little bit harder? What would I miss across the next stretch if I went home that morning? I couldn’t live with that, and so I loaded up on plasters (at this point they were more blisters than they were feet) and psyched myself up to get moving again.
The next town was Glenmalure, 9 miles over the mountains. I told myself I would give it everything I had to make it there and if by some miracle I could go further then I would cross that bridge when I came to it.
Off I went on my poor old feet, screaming at me with every step as if I was walking on shards of glass. I should mention at this point that my feet were not the only parts of me that were in pain. My collar bones were rubbed and bruised from carrying my heavy pack, my shoulders were in knots, my knees were hot and aggravated by the extra weight, I had a rub on my arm from where it had chafed against the straps, sunburn on my face, shoulders and legs (despite wearing sun cream) and my muscles were stiff and aching all over, but none of this was even noticeable compared to the extreme pain in my feet. In fact, I didn’t even notice a lot of these other symptoms until I was lying down in my tent resting my feet.
The next 9 miles were my biggest challenge yet. I welcomed the cool rain after the past two hot days and enjoyed the solitude, barely seeing a soul as I shuffled over the mountain. Despite the excruciating pain, I still managed to enjoy it and saw some wonderful sights and wildlife.
With around 2 miles left to reach Glenmalure, I made the call. Broken hearted, with tears in my eyes, I felt I no longer had the option and the best and only thing I could do was to go home and let my feet heal. I felt beyond disappointed. Even though I had set out without putting pressure on myself, to see how far I could get, I had fallen in love with the trail and the Wicklow Mountains and I wasn’t ready to leave. Worst of all from the ankle up (yes, I was sore) but raring to go and well up for the challenge. But unfortunately my feet just couldn’t take any more. I took comfort at least in knowing that I had given it 110%, pushed myself to my absolute limit until I physically couldn’t go anymore and then I went even further. Despite my setbacks, I felt strong and humbled and most of all grateful for what I was able to experience.
Shuffling down the mountain at a snails pace, having to stop and rest my feet every few hundred metres, I finally made it to Glenmalure and awaited my ride home. I knew the mountains weren’t going anywhere and that I would be back soon, this time with better footwear!
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