If proof was needed that God is a Mayo man it was provided definitively yesterday as the sun shone shamelessly all day on Croagh Patrick and as though no explanation was required for an absence filled by rain for the 50 days (and 50 nights) since June 8th last.
Not content with blithe indifference to questions which might be posed, the same divinity that shapes our weather provided a light breeze and dry conditions underfoot on "the Reek" making it an ideal day for a mountain pilgrimage. It is called "the Reek" because it looks like the pyramid-shaped way in which turf was stacked, which was called "a reek" (of turf).
The numbers who climbed yesterday were slightly down on previous years, according to gardaí, who said this was due mainly to warnings issued last week of danger because of recent wet weather. Yet about 25,000 people undertook the pilgrimage on Ireland's "Holy Mountain".
An Order of Malta spokesman said the day had gone "extremely well . . . the weather was wonderful" for its 100 volunteers and its Civil Defence colleagues with just two minor casualties; an elderly man with a cardiac condition who was taken off the mountain by helicopter and a woman who injured her ankle.
Following his return from the summit in the early afternoon, the Archbishop of Tuam Dr Michael Neary said conditions had been good. He has been climbing Croagh Patrick since he was a boy growing up in Castlebar, and began his climb of more than 760 metres yesterday at 5.30am accompanied by Fr Stephen Farragher, administrator at the cathedral in Tuam.
Commenting to The Irish Times on the continuing popularity of pilgrimages to Croagh Patrick, Knock shrine, and Lough Derg, etc, at a time when weekly Mass attendance is in decline, he said it was most likely due to people preferring to put time aside for such events in busy lives rather than continue with more routine practices.
Both he and Fr Farragher also commented that a majority of those who take part in the Croagh Patrick pilgrimage are men and approximately nine out of 10 penitents who attended confession at the summit are also men.
In his sermon on the mountain Archbishop Neary said "this is one of those pilgrimages which takes the ever demanding rush out of life. The world in which we live has set an impossible pace. We are rushed from infancy to adolescence and then through those special years to an ill-timed adulthood. Then, as we grow older, we might be left to one side as following generations may see us as a burden or a handicap to their progress and ambition.
"Perhaps, today, we might bring home a lesson from this old mountain of St Patrick. We might discover the need to reflect, to slow down the pace of life, to wonder at the beauty of the earth, and to really appreciate the value of our friends."
"Whatever about the top, it's definitely tough at the bottom," said one man, as he started the climb. A heavy-set Traveller woman walked round and round the statue of St Patrick, praying and blessing herself, as two would-be Paris Hiltons - glammed up, sunglasses in their hair - had had enough, sipped water and went back down.
A man turned back and shouted to a colleague "Mick, I'll be outside the pub when you come down." A Northern Ireland woman explained to Séamus who has just come down from the mountain: "Baking soda in a dish of water. Now that's just great for your feet."