It’s my “when are you going to” time of year. A voice continually wants to know when I am, going to “cut the grass”, “clip the hedges”, or “sweep the tarmac”. The answer is, of course, never, if I can possibly avoid it. When, however, the voice becomes overly persistent, it invariably happens on those now rare weekend days that are ideal for walking.
So, recently, having cut the grass, swept the patio and given the Leylandii a lick, I found to my dismay that little walking time remained. My salvation came, however, in the accessible form of a reclusive north Tipperary hill that mostly blushes unsung and untrodden.
From my parking place (see panel) I followed the purple arrows of the Pilgrim Loop along a minor road for a short distance before going left. Here, the route meandered uphill on a woodland track before crossing an earthen bank and depositing me on a forest road.
Swinging right, I followed this for about a kilometre. Proper climbing began at a Y-junction when I tagged an arrow-marked summit. Initially it was a firm dry pathway through forestry as I ascended the skirts of deeply mythological Mauherslieve.
Following the ever-helpful markers I swung left onto a forest firebreak, which was wet in places, but propelled me unerringly upwards. On reaching the gently sloping crest, the trail went sharply right. Here, I concluded that the sensuously curved shoulders of Mauherslieve that now rose elegantly upwards to the smoothly rounded summit did much to justify its Gaelic translation as “Mother Mountain”. Indeed, this decidedly feminine imminence was reputedly the past abode of pagan goddess Eibhlin and is still referred to by locals as Moher Clea.
The lonesome summit (543m) is crowned by a large and partly collapsed burial cairn and the almost inevitable trig point. Clearly the cairn builder wanted to emphasise the powerful imagery of this elevated place and thus evoke reverence from those residing in the valleys below.
In this regard, Mauherslive was well chosen, as it is a true scene-stealer offering a standout vista over an encircling ring of satellite summits. I first came here when researching my Walking Guide to Tipperary and Waterford and then concluded that the surrounding landscape was eerily similar to Armagh's renowned ring dyke of Slieve Gullion. Today, I decide it is actually more impressive.
Returning by my route of ascent, I rejoined the Pilgrim Loop and then followed the arrows to exit the forestry and descend an enclosed laneway and field to reach a road. Then, a 200m detour (right) took me to an ancient massrock. Here, simple but devout people – who clung to deeply rooted beliefs against monumental odds – once came from the surrounding hills to kneel and pray on the rough, wet mountainside beyond the prying eyes of officialdom.
Then it was downhill along a by-road before I entered a field by a stile and followed a boundary to attain yet another road. Here, a right turn and a 10-minute ramble deposited me back at my parking place.