Name: Club Climbing Night
Start: 2026-09-03T18:00:00+01:00
End: 2026-09-03T21:00:00+01:00
Location: Dalkey Quarry

Break for the Border

(by Gerry Moss, May 2010)
A leisurely day on the classic Virgo, on Pigeon Rock in the Mournes.

With our man at the Met Office promising the best of Saturday’s weather for the Mournes, we decided to wing our way up to Pigeon Rock for a day’s climbing. A journey that is little more than a hen’s race these days, given the fine road system heading North. So, Padraic, Peter, Joe and myself left the Spawell carpark at 8am, and pulled into the carpark below the crag at 9.30. With only a 15 minute stroll to the foot of the crag we were ready to rock by 10am. Sure, you couldn’t do better in Wicklow.

Our first target was the classic VS of the crag, the four-pitch Virgo, contender for the title of the longest VS in the Mournes.

The crag and the climb were dry as snuff, and squeaky clean too, thanks to the efforts of local guru Ian Rea, who was busy in the background, giving Lunar Wall a spring clean even as we climbed.

While the crux of the climb is elsewhere, the traverse on the third pitch is perhaps the most memorable section, being increasingly more exposed and airy the further you travel away from the belay ledge.

For Joe, coping with shoulder problems and the removal of recalcitrant runners, this thought-provoking sequence of moves proved to be a deeply moving experience, in more ways than one.

In fact, he was so gripped by the pitch that Padraic, a man noted for his suspicious nature and keen sense of smell, and ever a stickler for personal hygiene, insisted on Joe changing his underpants before being allowed back in the car. Well, one was so embarrassed, one just didn’t know where to look.

Not to worry, all’s well that ends well and, sporting types that we are, we repaired to the Sportsman’s Inn for refuelling, happy that a delicate situation had been satifactorily resolved.

Or had it?
Force Majeure

(by Gerry Moss, October 2008)
A return trip to the classic route F.M., on Slieve Lamagan in the Mournes.

I first climbed F.M., on Slieve Lamagan in the Mournes, for the one and only time, way back in 1990. But I must confess that, at the time, I treated this fine route in a rather cavalier fashion, scarcely affording it the regard it deserves.

My excuse is that, back then, we were in retreat from Fair Head and foul weather, and F.M. hadn’t figured in our plans. The last sound we heard on the Friday night, as we settled into our sleeping bags on the floor of the late Jim McKenzie’s barn, otherwise known as The Palace, was the sound of rain drumming on the roof. And wouldn’t you know it, the first sound we heard on Saturday morning was the non-stop rattle of the rain on the slates. We sat it out until mid-day, before conceding that climbing was not only ruled out for that day, but more than likely for the Sunday too, due to seepage.

So we packed up and headed south to the Mournes, a regular fall-back, and often the saviour of a rained-off climbing trip to the Head.

We spent the night in a cottage that had once served as a hut for the long-defunct Glenfoffany Climbing Club, and was, at that time, being used by a waning Belfast section of the I.M.C. Sunday morning was cloudy and damp, but better things were promised. Our targets included Dot’s Delight on Lower Cove and, rather than hanging around waiting for the weather to improve, we decided to do F.M. enroute to the Cove. Terry and Emily roped up while I, to save time, soloed up, sometimes in front, sometimes behind, sometimes to one side (I was young and foolish then and, though older now, little else has changed). Our arrival at Lower Cove coincided with the parting of the clouds and, with rapidly drying rock, everything went according to plan.

What brought all of this to mind was an email I received from Helen Condon in late June. Still on a high after successful participation in the Lake District meet, herself and Michael Scott had just climbed F.M., on one of the rare good days of the summer. She was feeling mighty pleased with herself, and rightly so, for it’s a grand route, one of several classic contributions to the Mourne climbing scene by Roy Johnston.

So I decided it was high time I returned to F.M., to make a less-hurried, less off-hand, ascent of the route. But I am no longer at the stage where I can treat a walk-in of well over an hour as a mere bagatelle, a trifling warm-up excercise, to be followed by a care-free romp up damp slabs. A slow learner, I am now a firm believer in the motto that states if you can’t be strong you must be cute and have reached the conclusion that what every older climbers needs is a younger, fitter, strong and keen apprentice. Enter Genevieve. We have a very satisfactory working arrangement – I do most of the donkeywork on the rock, she does most of the donkeywork on the approach.

Thus it was that, early last Sunday morning, weighed down with gear and rope, she powered her way along the track towards the shapely Slieve Lamagan, while I, lightly laden, trotted sedately behind.

Wasn’t Sunday a wonderful Autumn day? Wall-to-wall sunshine, cloudless blue skies. True, we were buffeted by a strong and cold northerly wind as we headed up the valley, but the wind was blowing from the back of the mountain, and we felt sure we would be sheltered on the rock, and so we were.

It was all very pleasant: bathed in soft, autumnal sunshine; padding up dry rock; enjoying the views out over the lovely Annalong valley. Encouraged by all of this Genevieve took over the sharp end of the rope, making the moves, route-finding, placing gear, setting up belay anchors.

We had a leisurely lunch on top, then scrambled back down to base, with never even the slightest hint of rain in the offing. A touch of Mourne magic.

On the walk-out we caught up with two young women, returning from a day’s climbing on Lower Cove. Two of Eddie Cooper’s protégés, they had been shown the ropes at the Ozone Wall, introduced to real rock in the Mournes, taught how to place gear, then set free. And they soared. Still in the early stages of their climbing careers, their bubbly enthusiasm was infectious, their excitement and delight a joy to behold. The previous weekend they had been to Snowdonia for the first time, were blessed with good weather, and gobsmacked by the number of long, easy climbs available in The Pass and Ogwen Valley.

I know exactly how they feel.

Do you?
Fowl Play

(by Gerry Moss, September 2008)
Climbing on Hen Mountain in the Mournes.

Having been frequently described as possessing less flesh than a plucked chicken, I decided it was high time to revisit Hen Mountain in the Mournes (it being all of twenty-five years since I was last there). This is an ideal venue for a day trip, being the nearest of the Mourne crags to Dublin – in fact, only a hen’s race from Newry, via the little village of Hilltown. The approach is nice and short too, along a laneway to the foot of the hill, then up a grassy path to the tors – a little less than half-an-hour up, twenty minutes down.

Being tors, they only have to cope with whatever rain falls on them, so there is little or no seepage, they dry very quickly and have little vegetation, providing routes on clean rock. Sitting on top of the hill, they get plenty of wind, so midges are never a problem.

True, protection is sparse on most of the tors (the Tower being the exception), but this, to my mind, makes it the thinking man’s crag. There is nothing like making thin moves a long way above your last bit of gear to focus the mind and sharpen the perception. Besides, once you get used to the fabulous friction, and master the knack of toe-jamming in the rounded cracks, the climbing here will do wonders for your confidence.

Some might advocate top-roping, but the scarcity of anchor points above a lot of the climbs could provide problems there. In any case, there are sufficient climbs in the lower grades to cater for the most modest, and cautious, of climbers.

So, spread your wings: fly the coop.
Carpe Diem

(by Gerry Moss, September 2008)
Two days of climbing in the Mournes – Pigeon Rock and Lower Cove.

Michael was unlucky with the weather for the meet to Bearnagh Slabs. But then, given the summer that is in it, he could have picked any of half-a-dozen different Saturdays and come up with rain. Periods of good weather have been well-spaced and short-lived, the Friday after the meet was to take place being a good example. A small ridge of high pressure arrived and was gone within the space of a day-and-a-half. Not good for those working a five day week. But for Genevieve, still fit as a fiddle after the MCI alpine meet (N/E ridge of the Piz Badile, etc.) and keen to finish off her summer break on a high note, and for myself, for whom work consists of nothing more onerous than cutting the grass, hanging out the washing and hoovering the stairs, Friday was too good an opportunity to miss.

We opted for Pigeon Rock in the Mournes, on the basis that the plentiful supply of jugs on the gully wall would offset any seepage remaining after all the rain up there. We were pleasantly surprised to discover that the crag was almost completely dry. Sun-catching and sheltered, the choice was ideal, and we ticked off all the routes from the classic Class Distinction down as far as Falcon, the in-situ abseil point helping to speed up the process.

The intention was to continue our efforts around the corner on the Nose which, though a little runny, was climbable, and getting drier by the hour. But with the evening closing in, the sun went behind the clouds and the midges came out to play. With six routes beneath our belts we felt we could abandon the field with honour and headed back to the car after a grand day in the hills.

Fast forward to Des Doyle’s meet to Ireland’s Eye (always a popular event) last Saturday, and the story was the same as for Michael. But, cruelly, the Sunday was a delightful day and we decided to grab it with both hands. It was the Mournes again, but this time our target was Lower Cove, surely the gem in the crown of the Kingdom of Mourne. Another south-facing, sunny crag, with over 70 routes to choose from, across a wide range of grades, and most of them on quick-drying rock.

The walk-in takes just over an hour of steady going, but it is on well-used tracks, with only a gradual gradient and, all the while, splendid views ahead of Binnian, Lamagan, Slieve Beg, Donard and the whole spread of the scenic Annalong valley.

We were the first two to arrive at the crag, but were joined shortly afterwards by six others, all Dubliners availing of the good weather to head north.

The torrential rain over the previous two days had left its mark – all the streams encountered were showing ambitions to be reclassified as rivers, and all the rivers were in spate. But most of the crag was dry, and we had another great day.

Now, for Genevieve, it’s back to academia and the realm of scribes and scholars, while I, like Pangur Bán the cat, watch and wait, ready to pounce. A thankless task – but someone’s got to do it.

Carpe Diem!

Break for the Border

Force Majeure

Fowl Play

Carpe Diem