Sorry this post is so late! It's by guest writer Doug!
During our trip back to Carlingford, an extremely unusual and unfortunate event took place on our particular train. Alan left her seat to use the restroom after complaining for some time that she had to pee. After about five minutes she returned, explaining that some person in the restroom was taking a while to do their business. Her second attempt resulted in a growing concern for the old man who had been in there for about forty-five minutes, according to a very observant gentleman. During all of this, Stu, Phil, and I had no idea of the nonsense that was taking place about two rows behind us. Our stop came, lucky for Alan, who hadn’t used the restroom this whole time. We were informed that the old man in the restroom had died…
Our return to Brian and Julia’s was as comfortable and enjoyable as the first, filled with delicious food and lots of tea. The day after our return, we decided to climb the mountain behind the house. Little did we know that this mountain climb would be the most epic adventure of our young lives. First off, I must add that I did not bring any athletic shoes with me on this trip, resulting in me resorting to an old pair of white Chuck Taylors. Yes, I climbed a mountain in Chuck Taylor’s thank you very much, along with Phil’s beyond awesome orange hiking shorts.
The climb was a lot more intense than I thought it would be. We were literally pulling on grass and heather to help us climb, while also paying close attention to slippery areas and sharp rocks. [note, now your regular writer takes over because Doug takes too long to write] Finally, we got to the top… and saw huge, grey rain clouds heading in our direction! We quickly snapped a few pictures before starting on what we hoped would be a quick descent.
The speed at which we descended resulted in an invention/ discovery by Alan: butt sliding. This is a method in which she sits down and proceeds to slide down a particularly steep slope of the mountain (and slippery because of the mud) and when she wants to stop, she uses her “brakes” (aka: hands). And I quote: “It’s okay, guys, I’ve got brakes!” …we were still worried ;)
evidence of butt sliding
the trees we were about to go into
Of course, climbing as haphazardly as we did, we ended up at a different spot at the bottom of the mountain than when we started and had no idea where to go next. We were caught between a prickly forest of trees and a rapidly approaching rain storm. Hoping to avoid getting drenched, we made our choice and jumped into the forest. Unfortunately, there was no path or straight way to walk, much less little forest creatures to show us how to get out. We tried to go straight as we could, while crab-walking and ducking under the low-hanging tree branches. Thorns growing up from the forest floor made this task even more treacherous. Finally, we got to a break in the trees and a paved road – we had found a way out! But, of course, just as soon as we had celebrated our victorious descent down the mountain, the rain finally breaks and all watery hell falls down upon our heads. Even better, after a few minutes of walking, Stu informs us that this is not the road we were hoping to find, which would lead us directly to Julia and Brian’s house, but a road that went directly into town, over a mile out of our way.
Needless to say, we got absolutely soaked. While Stu and Alan decided (God knows why) to run ahead so they wouldn’t get as wet, Doug and I walked the whole rest of the way, wet and miserable and cold. Just when we thought we had had enough, we turned a curve in the road and lo and behold… there was a rainbow! The rain was stopping, the sky was clearing, and the sun was coming out!
Only rainbows after the rain, of course; it was totally worth the bad weather to see such a spectacular rainbow at the end. Although we were in Ireland, we didn’t find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow; just our friends and a ride back home.
"W" for winning... we climbed the mountain!
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