[Wildlifewriter]

The Slyne Peninsula is about as far west in Europe as you can get. A rain-scoured wilderness of sand, bare rock and black, midge-infested bog, it's the last place God made – and He didn't waste much time on the project. South-west from Clifden, you turn off the main road and follow an undulating single-track lane for about two hundred years. At its end, just offshore from a bleak cove piled with rotting seaweed, lies the cursed island of Inishdugga...



But I'm getting ahead of myself.

For two days of my holiday, the caching had been great. I'd logged finds at The Lost Treasure and Inishbofin Monk Prison (among others) which are rarely visited. The scenery was fabulous and my little Renault had covered more than five hundred miles without very much in the way of gearchanging. The Connemara welcome was warm, as always – and the food (as always) was terrible.

This all changed at Inishdugga. I stood there, alone and shivering in the unseasonable chill, and realised that I was probably a suitable case for psychiatric treatment. You can read about it in the log, if you want. I couldn't get out of the place fast enough.

After this trip, I'd had enough of caching for a while. Apart from a visit to Rathlin, there wasn't much to do – but I had two specific projects in mind...

The first of these was the rather nebulous idea of setting up a new geocaching forum. I wasn't sure if this was a good thing, but there were indications that Something Needed To Be Done. While I'd been away, the situation on the Geofrees board appeared to have gone from bad to worse. Over at Geocaching Ireland, things were little better – and the behaviour of certain individuals on both sites seemed designed to spoil it for everyone else.

Let's be clear about this: the vast majority of geocachers are decent, ethical, honourable folk – but in such a broad-based hobby, there'll always be one or two who have their own agenda, and seek to inflict it on others regardless of the consequences. I was getting annoyed... and it's not part of my nature to get annoyed in secret.

The other project was “Clearing the Map.” The idea was to log every active cache in Northern Ireland – which proved to be less easy than it sounds. I'd logged my 199th at the Bridge Bandits' excellent The Circle, but my arm was not healing as it oughta, and driving the car appeared to be the source of the problem. As always, it was Mike who came to the rescue, and we set off to do the last one on the list: Fun in Fermanagh 3, at the beginning of August.



This cache has only one other find (apart from us) and I'm damned if I can understand why. It's in a gorgeous part of the country, with good access, and an enjoyable walk out to the site. Very strange.

The map was cleared and, at the GI forum, matters came to a head. It's always difficult when dealing with someone young and inexperienced, who doesn't understand the “last” bit in “last warning” - but I did what had to be done, though with no great satisfaction. At the end of August, GeoX went live.

Caching had to take a back seat for a while. At the hospital, consultant and physios ganged up on me, and I got a Last Warning of my very own. It was late September before things improved enough for Wuthered and I to do – among others – the interesting City of Derry Walking Tour, before we headed off to Wicklow for yet another session of dodging the grim reaper at Lugg a Vault. (Full story HERE.)

Jointly and severally, Mike and I get a certain amount of ear-bashing from our respective families over the risks we take while caching and hillwalking. It's true that we we both have a deplorable habit of wandering off on our own, in the wild places of the world. For my part only, all I can say is that I believe the risk to be calculated. Yes, walking solo in the hills IS potentially dangerous and there are people – sensible, responsible people - who wouldn't dream of doing it.

But they've never stood on Chimney Rock to watch the sun go down behind Binnian in a welter of red, and been able to weep for the sheer beauty of it because there was no-one else there. I have.

Which is more or less where we came in. 365 days and 133 caches later, back in Mourne at Slieve Martin, and another FTF for the pair of us at Narnia. A good year, and a long year – as Dryden put it so well...

All, all of a piece throughout
Thy chase had a beast in view,
Thy wars brought nothing about
Thy lovers were all untrue.
'Tis well an old age is out
And time to begin a new.



-Wlw

[Haggis Hunter]

A very poignant second half Wlw, a good read indeed.
_________________
Let me know if I say anything that offends you
I might want to offend you again later

[Mrs I]

Yep a good read, I wish I could make our geocaching year as interesting.
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Carol
x

[Big Wolf]

Thanks for both parts and lets hope this year is as interesting for you as the last one has been.
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www.BigWolf.co.uk

[Wildlifewriter]

[ghiribizzo]

[Wildlifewriter]