It was a scary, sobering experience.
First scariness: our paper map was outdated. The trailhead I wanted to use doesn’t exist anymore. The trail seems to be still there, but access isn’t, and we didn’t discover this wonderful fact until after we’d walked for a mile along a narrow main road for twenty minutes. Thanks Obama.
Second scariness: I put blind faith in an incorrect map over what was plain to our eyes. I led us down a steep and dangerous scree field on the east slope, along an imaginary trail, and into trick briars on the lower slope. We made it to Kilmacanogue, but we so easily mightn’t have.
What if the weather turned (it threatened rain all day)?
What if Eadaoin fell (the scree were loose)?
What if there was no access back to the road (we had to navigate by map alone)?
You can see for yourself in the fourth and fifth photographs. I thank the blessed Carl Sagan that my dipshit headstrong approach on the descent didn’t get anyone killed.
My dipshittery still didn’t ruin the day. Eadaoin had to be exhorted to the top of the Sugar Loaf because she convinced herself that the climb was impossible. Her high on making the top would’ve warned the most miserable heart, and Eadaoin’s smile alone made the day worth it.