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

Catch as Catch Can

(by Gerry Moss, May 2009)
Climbing on the sea-cliffs at Ardmore, Co. Waterford.

A wet and windy May fills the barns full of hay, so it’s not all bad news then. With the weathermen promising iffy weather almost everywhere, we heeded their advice and headed for the sunny south-east – the sea-cliffs of Ardmore in Co. Waterford to be exact.

Having to abseil down overhanging rock to reach the foot of the climbs always adds a little frisson of excitement to the proceedings, and a brisk wind, making for a lively sea, further enhanced the situation.

The rich hues, rough texture, and jumbled architecture of the sandstone sea-cliffs all combine to produce some very atmospheric routes.

While the rock is generally sound, storms can wreak changes to all cliffs exposed to the onslaught of the waves, so caution and careful attention is always needed. An incoming, boistrous tide added a sense of urgency to matters as the day wore on, particularly for the second.

The sea-pink and kidney vetch were in full bloom; the upper rocks covered in vivid patches of lichens; we were surveyed by seals, serenaded by choughs and entertained by the aerobatics of the gannets. We had no rain and even espied some patches of blue sky.

All-in-all, a very pleasant day.
Quarry Ghosts

(by John Duignan, December 2008)
Christmas Eve in Dalkey Quarry … eerily empty …

Christmas Eve in the quarry. Rush to enjoy a few last climbs between a half day at work and family. Eerily empty – even the usual strollers desert it today.

Climb East and West Quarry and finish on the Upper Cliffs – now a year-end tradition. Great excuse for skiving off the preparations at home …

Eliminate A dash; Rock cold and damp holds so hook a sling at crux. Indoors never the same. Great to be here, even under grey skies. Anchor on. Barry breezes up, glad to be moving; Love this view. Back over Sandyford, The cavalry of cranes now melted away. Out to sea, a single cargo ship at anchor in the bay.

They are here still. Close your eyes and see over – Gerry Moss mantelshelfing on Joas, Conor Murphy soloing up the climb below late at night in runners, full backpack of gear, his big grin radiating fun. Loud laughs as Theo falls again on the crux of the Shield – so near this time. Howard on a 6c boulder problem over at Ivy Wall area. Terry O Neill, Seán Barrett, Andy Greer parade themselves on their climbs.

On then to West Quarry; Quick … afternoon moving on; Grave is dry and lighthearted fun; Bill Hannon effortlessly drifts up Sham Gully – still climbing in his 70s; Liam Convery’s iron grip as he wrenches out gear long after I have given up. Seán Barrett’s first lead on Crash Landing – my arms ache as I field him on the first moves (or am I praying?) – he glides up. Hugh Sharkey nearby bridging on Bushmills, legs at a crazy angle, calm and unhassled over a big drop. My mouth dry as I watch, willing him on. Look over at Calvin soloing Blood Crack, Clare alongside soloing Charleston – my two girls whispering in awe as they look up. The murmur of small talk, the chalk marks on the rock.

Keep this one till last: Upper Cliffs Prealpina: Never mind the wet beginning. Feel the joy of the final mantelshelf up to a brilliant belay site; Hop the wall, tree anchor and lean out from the Upper Cliffs; The streetlights are coming on like a chain of fairy lights as darkness creeps in. Barry Denton, nimble as a schoolkid playing hookey, sings on his way up; In the corner of your eye, you can still see Hugh Reynolds balancing carefully as he commits to Preacher (‘Preacher Man don’t tell me Heaven is on the way’); Kevin Byrne and Antoinette Gough laughing and waving as they pass below at the end of a Summer day; Feel the courage from the wine you had at lunch evaporate, and find yourself stupidly on our first lead of In Absentia. Wobble onto the nose, eyes blinded with sweat, the single wire you placed looks ready to fall out; Then the piercing scream as the unkownn climber next to you on Helios takes a 30 foot whipper; See Dermot Sheil easily mantelshelf the nose on In Absentia with one hand, no shuffling around it, still chatting away to his belayer …

These Christmas ghosts alive when all about is so dead; Myles Na Gopaleen’s cyclist exchanged molecules with his bicycle seat over time; Do Climbers leave some psychic energy in the rock as they pass?

Don’t explain it, just love these ghosts as they climb with you this time of year in the quarry.

Merry Christmas

To all in this mad wonderful Climbing Game

John.
Let the Sunshine in

(by Gerry Moss, December 2008)
Some shots from the Barnbawn session (courtesy of Pádraic) to bring a little sunshine at the darkest time of the year.

This is Martina eyeing up the crux on one of her many leads:

Here we have Margaret sussing out the sequence of moves:

And Paddy, just soaking up the sun:

Brian bustling up Bonsai:

Diarmuid just doing it:

Padraic pushing his limits:

Finally, John demonstrating his Tai Chi technique:
Re: Barnbawn

(by Gerry Moss, November 2008)
Climbing in winter at the sun-kissed Wicklow crag.

Wasn’t last Tuesday a lovely day – an ideal opportunity to introduce Steve (recently retired) to Barnbawn’s micro-mediterranean climate. Blue skies, sun-kissed rock, and a breeze sighing through the pines overhead. Here’s Steve and Herbert soaking up the sunshine:

Belated congratulations to Terry on the 2 new routes he established here some weeks ago. Himself and myself had a look at the line of The Edge HVS 5a a few years ago, he almost cracked it then, but decided to leave it for another day and it has been waiting for him ever since. The two routes are a worthwhile addition to the collection, and I suspect most climbers will consider The Edge to be a bit nearer to 5b than 5a.

In the interim we have not been standing idly by, and below you will find details of two routes we added during last winter. The description for the second one, Traverse of the Bods, is a bit lengthy, but it is far and away the longest climb on the crag and provides some entertaining moments (the name is a nod to my two companions on the day).

This shot shows Sidewinders (in red) and the first pitch of the traverse (in blue):

The climbs described:

Sidewinders HS
Short, delicate and difficult to protect in the upper section. It can be greasy after a few days rain and is best tackled when dry. Best, too, in the morning as, like the others climbs on this side, it faces east and catches the sun early.
Start at the extreme R of the crag, as for Offside, below the R-hand end of the deep, sloping crack. Pull up to stand in the crack. Make a long, awkward step down and around to the R onto a good foothold. Traverse R using undercuts to gain the edge of the flake. Continue R on an intermittent crack and, when this fades, move up the face to a gap and tree belay. (G.Moss, H. Hertzmann, Winter 2007)

Traverse of the Bods HVS (4c, 5a)
A right-to-left girdle of the crag, best done in 2 pitches, to avoid rope drag.
Pitch 1, 4c.
Start as for Offside, at the extreme R of the crag, below the R-hand end of the deep, sloping crack. Pull up to stand in the crack and traverse L to its end. Step across L and continue with the foot traverse on Cascarino. When this ends move L above the overhang on Damp Start Crack to reach the arete. Step down L onto the upper part of the ramp on Eye of the Needle and move across onto the hanging slab on Swing Lowe. Up this to belay above the exit on Eye of the Needle.
Pitch 2, 5a.
Move down into the gorse-filled gully and across to the stance below the crux of Buachaillí Bána. Make a delicate diagonal descent across the short slab of Scud Guys (crux) and move around the nose to the stance below the crux of Bonsai. A short fingery traverse across the steep wall gains the narrow ramp on Saw Doctors. Step down onto the main slab and traverse pleasantly L below the crux of Lineker to just below the top of OOh! AAh! Backclimb down this to belay on the ground.
(G. Moss, H. Hertzmann, L. Convery, Winter 2007)

This shot shows the second pitch of the traverse, and Terry’s route, The Edge (in red):
Head Hunting

(by Gerry Moss, October 2008)
A climbing trip to the Old Head of Kinsale.

I have made many day-trips to crags over the years, but last Saturday, accompanied by Liam, I travelled probably the furthest distance yet for a day’s climbing. It was to the Old Head of Kinsale, forty-five minutes beyond the city of Cork. A fairly long round trip, it’s true, but we had a couple of trump cards up our sleeves. The first one was the free travel card, one of the few advantages of being of a certain age, which allowed us to travel to Cork in the lap of luxury, thanks to Iarnród Éireann’s fast inter-city trains. Our second trump card was that Genevieve was among those attending the MCI gathering in Macroom, and this, coupled with the fact that Cork Mountaineering Club had procured permission from the local golf club for climbers to access the crag, clinched the matter (that permission should be needed to visit an area long frequented by climbers, walkers and anglers is a sore point, and an ongoing issue, yet to be resolved).

We arrived in Ceannt Station just before 10 am to be greeted by Genevieve, charioteer to the gods, and were whisked off to the gates of the golf club where we were to meet up with the MCI mini-bus carrying the rest of the climbers from Macroom. I’m always a bit wary of being taken in tow by local experts; they tend to take you to their favourite problematical climbs, delight in watching you struggle up the local sandbag routes, all the while declaring that it’s ‘a piece of piss’. But the disembarkation proved to be a bit of an anti-climax. As we waited with bated breath, just two climbers emerged, both of them from Kerry, no less. Never mind. The lack of quantity was more than compensated for by the quality of the two ladies in question – Margaret and Majella – two cheerful, independent types. A touch of Kerry gold, for sure.

Though the grey dawn had long since broken, there was still a grey mist on the sea’s face, and we couldn’t even see the base of the crag from the lighthouse compound. The two southerners soon located the way down and we were pleased to discover that, despite the mist, the rock was dry, the wind no more than a gentle zephyr, and the main slab rising from a commodious platform, well above the reach of the waves.

Perhaps all the activists were at the comp in DCU, doing some jug-pulling. Or perhaps it was the combination of slab and sandstone that deterred the snatch-and-grab brigade. For, in truth, there is precious little on the main slab to snatch at, and even less to grab.

This hoary old slab has aged gracefully, displaying nothing more than the slightest of wrinkles, despite its ancient origins. Holds to be stroked rather than choked – a brushing of the fingers, the lightest of pressure with the toes, sufficed to provide upward progress. A delightful scenario, in which everyone flourished, everyone made progress.

Wouln’t you know it, we overstayed our welcome, crammed in one climb too many, and found ourselves heading back along the road towards the car at a trot. Time was pressing and our rendezvous with the return train looking highly unlikely, but it was here that another side to Genevieve was disclosed. We bombed down narrow country roads at breakneck speeds, careened around blind corners at an alarming rate, soared over hump-backed bridges, nipped in and out of traffic lanes and treated traffic lights with disdain, to arrive at the station with minutes to spare.

Weak-kneed and ashen-faced, we tottered towards the ticket-master, while Genevieve executed what sounded suspiciously like a handbrake turn as, with much laughter and gaiety, the ladies sped off towards the fleshpots of Macroom.

Ah, what it is to be young.

Catch as Catch Can

Quarry Ghosts

Let the Sunshine in

Re: Barnbawn

Head Hunting