The club has been up and running for 41 years this year. A history, written by some of the captains of the club on the occasion of the 35th anniversary of the club has been put on the site for everybody to enjoy. We also maintain a list of former captains and meets secretaries that can be viewed by clicking here
And so it came to pass that the disciples of UCD Mountaineering Club foregathered in Dublin once again to celebrate the passing of their thirtieth year. And there was much feasting and merry-making and many a sore head in The Glen of the Two Lakes the next day. And it was good... Reading back over the various chapters in this history - both old and new certain themes keep recurring. Several writers make the point that the club has always been a "mountaineering" club in the widest sense. There has consistently been a core group of climbers but it has always striven to be inclusive. It is dangerous to name individuals for fear of leaving someone out but the way in which Paul Harrington was out bogtrotting with us a scant week after returning from doing hard things on the North Face of the Eiger speaks volumes. Hillwalking is less easy to quantify but the Sunday walk in Wicklow is still the bread and butter activity and many of our older members would have little difficulty in identifying with it. The 'hard-man' long walk survives among the ponies and boy-racers of today (although there can be advantages in being an old dog for the hard road when it comes to the finer points of route-finding).
On at least three occasions (1973,1982 and 1985) different groups of graduates who felt that a student club no longer suited their needs moved away from the club to do their own thing. One of these resulted in a new club - Club Cualann - being formed. This has grown and we are glad to welcome many of its members along onight. The Club that was founded in 1967 had as it's base a strong commitment to mountaineering married to an active social scene. It thrived upon being open to all comers and revelled in the mix of tenderfeet and old hands. As Seamus MacGearailt has put it, it is this sense of continuity and regeneration that has sustained UCD Mountaineering Club in the past, and will ensure that it continues to be one of the leading Clubs in the country in the future. Such a Club will never outgrow its roots.
Now read on...
by Seamus O Colmain (Captain 1965/66)
As Ireland emerged from the Dark Ages in the early 1960's the first stirrings of UCDMC were to be heard in the dimmer recesses of Earlsfort Terrace and the College of Science in Merrion St. It was still a time, before PC, when girls were girls and forbidden by College statute to wear trousers. The first membership book is marked "Started 1st. November 1962" although Tom Weymes claims that it was active the previous year (incidentally Tom your membership sub for 1962/63 is overdue). Membership for that year came to 39 and the first name on the list was Jerome Carroll from Science. The Engineering and Science Faculties were particularly well represented. The annual sub was 6d. (2.5p). Inflation set in for 1963/64 with the sub rising to 5s. (25p) where it was to remain until 1965/66. Membership remained at around the 30 to 40 mark during this period. The Club was, of course, not recognised by College Authorities and the case for recognition was dealt a major blow with the unfortunate death of two UCD students on Lugnaquilla in March 1963. The fact that it was an outing organised by the L&H was deemed irrelevant and hill-walking/mountaineering were labelled "dangerous" and to be suppressed at all costs.
Nonetheless a devoted band continued to promote and organise clandestinely. Posters were torn down by the porters almost as fast as they could be put up. Even so groups of between 10 and 30 took to the hills every Sunday, generally in the Dublin/Wicklow Hills but with occasional excursions by hired mini-bus to the Mournes, Galtees, Comeraghs etc. Trips from Dublin were invariably by CIE regular bus service and one of my abiding memories is of long road walks, in the dark, at the end of the day, generally when wet, to Blessington or Enniskerry or Poulaphouca where we would steam gently in the pub waiting for the next bus to town. At the time even a trip to Lug was a big occasion, now it's unusual not to climb it a dozen times a year. The winter of 1962/63 was exceptionally severe with deep snow on the ground for months on end. When I look back at it now I could weep at the thought of lost opportunities for winter gully routes. However, at the time I hadn't even heard of ice axes and crampons. My predecessor as Captain, Peter Roche, had been adventurous enough to go on a climbing course in Austria and was the proud possessor of crampons hand-forged by a local blacksmith. Occasional forays were made to Dalkey Quarry with hemp rope and slings (no rocks or friends in those days) and I remember somewhat painful abseils without figures of eight or other hardware. In retrospect the achievements of UCD MC in these early years were very modest but it was a beginning from which much developed with members and former members achieving new heights in the Alps and further afield in the Great Ranges. As those of us from those very early years contemplate how many more Alpine or Scottish winter seasons may be there for us to enjoy, or when it will be time to adjourn to the Mallorcan fleshpots and foothills, it is a matter of great pride that so much has been achieved from such small beginnings.
Addendum - by Tom Weymes
Really, this has gone on long enough. I'm not just talking about the ridiculous slander in the matter of the '62-'63 sub - though God knows any man like O Colmain who could carry on a vendetta like this for 36 years is clearly in need of professional help - but this whole pretence on the part of the '62 crowd that just because they got lucky with a big winter they somehow started it all. It's like the assumption of every generation of youth that they invented sex.
The fact is - and let all the succeeding generations of UCDMCers take note - that records from the Weymes Archive show conclusively that the genesis of the Club was a slide and film show, held in "86" on Tuesday 14 November 1961 and previously publicised at Freshers' Day. The instigators were a couple of Meds, fairly well on, I think, in their College careers, called Denis McCarthy, from where I don't know, and Michael Camps, an urbane Trinidadian. With talk of the Cuillin and the Alps, these men descended on us, and the coming of the Holy Spirit wasn't in it. We most of us probably hadn't been further than the Hellfire Club, and didn't know what was lacking in our lives - but we knew it when we saw it. McCarthy and Camps were well got in the IMC of the time, and were able to line up what was by the standards of early 60s Dublin a stellar cast for the show. Other IMC notables were there, but the ones I remember were Emmet Goulding and Tony Ingram (you'll see respectful mentions of them in Frank Winder's introduction to the Wicklow guide), who had done mighty feats in the Alps and made our flesh creep with tales of North Face bivouacs. The slides and films showed the IMC at play in a series of locations ranging from the Dolomites to Ireland's Eye via, of course, the dear old Quarry. McCarthy, may his name be honoured for ever, announced that the first outing of the foetal Club would be, not a walk, but a rock-climbing session in Dalkey the following Saturday week. Maybe I'm making too much of this, but is it too fanciful to think that the reason the Club over all the years since was never solely the UCD Hill Walking Club, can be traced right back to the bug that infected the bunch who turned out that day to be shown how to tie a bowline and be conducted up Paradise Lost? The IMC, including even Messrs. Goulding and Ingram, rallied round again for this kindergarten duty. There were walks, of course, the one which sticks in the memory being an assault, again very soon after the inaugural show, on Lug from the Glenmalure side. The day turned out atrocious, and McCarthy for some inscrutable reason led off on a route which involved struggling in driving sleet along the side of Art's Lough. We, the motley mob of 20 or so, didn't know where we were or what was hitting us. McCarthy eventually realised the sort of material he had to work with and beat a merciful retreat to Glenmalure Hostel. For those few of us who, most unusually, were motorised in Des Gilhawley's aunt's Morris Minor, the icing on the cake later in the evening was to see it stall in the middle of Baravore Ford. (No, the causeway wasn't there in those days). Memory is hazy of what happened for the rest of that College year - McCarthy and Camps drifted gradually off the scene, having done their inspirational bit, and there was a distinct lack of committee-like structures or anything smacking of organization. It was as much as we could do to organize rendezvous for the bus to Enniskerry. Still, the seed had been planted and the kindred souls were there. Some ancient photos the archive has also yielded up have reminded me of names like Maura, Denis's girlfriend who I think was also a Med; Sally Gallivan and her cousin Valdie Walsh, daughter of Mary Lavin the writer; and David Walsh the solicitor who in later years helped fight off the Army's attempt to block access to Camara. As well as these, there are the ones with whom, against all the odds, I stagger round the hills to this day.
No doubt I'd have discovered the mountains without Denis McCarthy and the infant UCDMC, but I've always been glad to have to made the discovery in that place, at that time, with those people. If anyone recognises their contemporaries, mothers, uncles or grandparents in this sketch, tell them from me - thanks for the memories folks!
by Barry Walsh (Captain 1967/69)
During the 1966/67 season, the Club captain was Jim Butler, whose membership went back to the earliest days, and who still pounds the heather in Wicklow and further afield. During that year, the main concern was to develop the Club to the point where the UCD authorities would grant official recognition. This they were reluctant to do on account of the Lugnaquilla tragedy of some years before (qv Seamus O Colmáin's article). About 20 active members took part in "unofficial" hikes, mainly in the Wicklow mountains. There was little Club spirit at this time, more just a coming-together in a slightly organised fashion of UCD people who liked hill walking. However, among this group were two students who were to be instrumental in really putting the UCDMC on the map over the next few years - Barry Walsh and Diarmuid McAree.
For the 1967/68 season, a full committee was "selected", the Captain being Barry Walsh, with close assistance from Jim Butler, Brigid Wall and new members Rory Harrington and Chris Cowan. The first hike of the season was attended by the new Captain and three new members! However, things began to pick up and the Sunday walk began to attract a regular turnout of 15 - 20 students, which might rise as high as 50 or so for a trip to Glendalough. A bus was hired for this occasion - a first for the Club. Diarmuid McAree was the instigator of this outing, which ended with a terrific sing-song in the Glendalough Hotel This was just the first of many such after hike sessions. In December 1967, the Club was at long last granted official recognition and was allowed to put up posters advertising events without the porters taking them down again. A small grant was also allocated to the Club.
UCD Mountaineering Club had finally arrived. During the 68/69 season, the Club really took off. A well organised stand at Freshers' Week resulted in a turnout of 86 students for the first hike. The following week there were 65, the next week 98 and there was no looking back. Organising these vast hordes was a dedicated committee of ten, captained by Rory Harrington up to December, and then again by Barry Walsh when Rory left for foreign parts. The principal officers were Diarmuid McAree, Chris Cowan and Larry Byme. Walks of very respectable distances were done every week, 10-12 miles on average, frequently longer, with weekends away climbing in the Mournes, the Reeks, Donegal and on the Bens. The aftermath of the hike was usually a drinking session and sing-song in a favourite pub - Mooneys of Kilbride, Tuttys of Hollywood, Mulally's of Blessington and Shay Healy's in Roundwood were the most welcoming.
The 1969/70 season started off with another monster outing of 120 people to Glendalough. The large crowds diminished over some weeks to a more manageable 30-40 each week. The Captain was now Diarmuid McAree, with Chris Cowan as Vice-Captain. Medium and long hikes were organised every Sunday, and a rock-climbing group was established as well. There was a noticeable move towards "real" mountaineering , but the Club committee was still anxious to cater for all those students who just liked to walk the hills. Orienteering was new to Ireland and increasing in popularity with quite a few club members taking part. Weekends away were still confined to the mountainous areas of Ireland. 1970/71 saw the advent of a group which was to take over the running of the Club over the next few years.
Chris Cowan became Captain and Jimmy Murphy, Chris Allen, Mick O'Shea and Sean Darby were also prominent. The number of members on outings remained steady at 20 - 30. Rock climbing, orienteering and skiing were now a regular part of the outdoor scene. Some members went overseas on mountaineering trips - to Scotland and the Alps. Jimmy Murphy climbed the Matterhorn in 1971. Mountain-running and setting records for particular well known walks was becoming popular - Mick O'Shea, for example, did the Lug Walk in 9 hours 14 minutes, which took 16 minutes off the previous recorded best time.
In May of 1971, the new Committee for the 1971/72 season was elected. Jimmy Murphy became Captain with Sean Derby as Vice-Captain while Chris Allen continued as Meets Secretary. In addition there were many new faces on the Committee. Jimmy Murphy declared that "the Mickey Mousing was over" and that things were going to be different from now on. The 'old guard' who had overseen the exciting developments of the UCDMC between 1966 and 1971 were out, and a new generation of students had taken over.
by Mick O'Shea (Captain 1973/75)
I joined UCDMC in the Autumn of 1970. The driving force at the time was Jimmy Murphy. Jimmy had been on two climbing trips to Zermatt around this time. His climbing partners were members of other Clubs as rock-climbing was not a major part of club activity at this stage and students were too poor to travel very far. In the Club the main body of original members was still active. Many of these were graduates, so there were plenty of cars available for weekends away. The Sunday walk in Wicklow was the mainstay of Club activity with the usual trips down the country on long weekends.
In the Summer of 1971 Jimmy introduced rock-climbing as a Club activity with Sean Darby as his outstanding protégé. Claire and Bairbre Sheridan, Billy Murphy, Anne Coffey, Judy Ceannt, Sheila Willis and Mick O'Shea were his most devoted disciples. However the rock-climbing scene never really developed in the club during this period. Claire Sheridan developed her outstanding skills elsewhere. The first Scottish trip we organised was to The Isle of Arran, where we cut our teeth on Goat Fell and A'Chir in October 1971. The entire trip cost me the grand total of £8.By 1973 Sean Darby was doing climbs like Scimitar Crack and sarcophagus (HVS) in Glendalough. Not many people in the country were climbing harder at the time. Sea cliff climbing had not been developed to any extent at this stage and activity was mainly concentrated in Dalkey Quarry and on the mountain crags like Glendalough, Luggala, Loch Barra, Bencor and Coum Gowlan.
As in later times there were certain weekends which seemed to mark the start of a new era. There were two such in our case - both held in Ballinclea Youth Hostel in February 1971 where there was an upsurge of activity with a large influx of enthusiastic new members. Around this time Outdoor Pursuit Centres were becoming popular and a lot of Club members got involved in Tiglin activities. The Sheridans, Sheila Willis, Des Doyle and most notably Lorcan O'Sullivan went on many training courses and studied for Mountain Leadership Certificates. Lorcan in particular used this to good effect, organising navigation and safety exercises in the club. His contribution in this regard was notable and had an enormous impact on attitudes and procedures in the Club for a long time. (Lorcan is currently Chairman of Bord Oiluint Sleibhe - The Irish
mountain Training Board).
In 1973 the older members formed a separate group similar to the generation who would form Club Cualann in 1982. The departure left a huge gap, reducing Club membership dramatically and also depriving us of private transport which meant that weekends away from Wicklow became very infrequent. The bread and butter activity was still hill-walking in Wicklow with memories of endless long road walks from places like Glencree to Enniskerry, Lacken to Blessington and the doyenne of all, the alcohol assisted trudge from Fentons to Whites Cross. There were many many night-hikes and bivvies not to mention Lug Walks in the traditional manner with midnight starts commonplace. We even had a bash at a couple of Art O'Neill walks although I'm not sure why. We often camped in the heart of the mountains in places like Glen Inagh, Doolough, Rossbeigh and Bunbeg with much time being devoted to hitching back and forth from Dublin. I remember walking from Killarney railway station to Jack Walshe's in Glencar with Colm D'Arcy one night at Christmas in 1973. We spent two Easters (1973 and 1974) in Doolough. This represented our only period of route development in Coum Dubh. I spent a nerve-wracking week in Darby's firing line as he put up some impressive routes. Sean drifted away from the climbing scene shortly afterwards. He returned briefly a few years later with the Dru in Chamonix being his most outstanding achievement. Because of transport difficulties we often went to North Wales with boat, train and bus connections allowing for quick access to the mountains. Later on as an alternative to hitching, cycling to distant places became popular. Anne Deroe, Noelle O'Shea and Therese McGurk once did a return trip to Bunbeg in Donegal. Catherine Sherry was particularly prominent in this regard once cycling to Foxford in one day. Eugene O'Riordan and Catherine did another marathon to Glen Inagh. There were many trips on bikes down to Glendalough with climbing gear on our backs. The cycles home from the Quarry became legendary with the stretch along the Metals enshrined in memory. It became a no-go area for courting couples for a few years as the peleton could strike at any time. One bollard on a particularly dimly lit section always seemed as if it should claim some victims but never did.
Eugene O'Riordan arrived on the scene in 1974 and quickly made a significant impact. He brought fashion to new lows never previously imagined. His enthusiasm encouraged a large influx in 1976 when he was Meets Secretary. Christmas in Castlegregory that year heralded a new era just as Ballinclea had done five years before. It was here that Kieran Finch began the craze of midnight swims at Rossbeigh to welcome in the new year. Euge's own party piece was dragging large parties of innocents up Central Buttress in Dalkey. These sorties inevitably finished in the as dark the numbers were so many. I remember once being stuck because I couldn't see and having to wait for a passing car to illuminate the route to the top.
At this time the Mountaineering community was a tightly-knit one with close links between the various Clubs which were almost entirely Dublin and Belfast based. Many of us practically lived in the IMC hut in Glendalough. We followed the fortunes of the big name climbers. If you were unobtrusive enough McKenzie, Mulhall or Redmond might drag you up some classic like Quartz Gully in Glendalough. We were fed on stories of Spilikin Ridge before the Spilikin fell off (before even our time). Orienteering was the main alternative activity, canoeing only becoming popular amongst climbers in the late 1970's. The tradition of going to Scotland at Easter began at this time with early trips to Glencoe, Skye and Torridon. I climbed my first Scottish gully with Des Doyle, Mick Scott and Bairbre Sheridan in 1977 on Stob Coire nan Lochan in Glencoe. In 1977 the first trip exclusively of Club members to the Alps occurred. The five of us managed to climb Mont Blanc but little else. We were a little out of our depth and probably should have gone elsewhere on our first trip. Since then such trips have become common place. The standard of climbing inevitably improved. Christy Neary was in the forefront of those pushing up the standards. We also began to climb more regularly on sea-cliffs particularly in the Burren and at Malinbeg.
The Mountaineering Club has provided me personally with a treasure of great memories but also with a wealth of great friendships. The Club I entered was a warm and welcoming one. It helped make College a wonderful experience and many of us are still reaping the benefits. It has also given us a pastime in which we will indulge for many years.
by Lorcan O'Sullivan. (Captain 1975/76)
I first heard about the UCD Mountaineering Club during the 1971/72 Mountain Leadership course. In those far off days a relatively high number of Club members instructed on or attended such courses. The UCD people on the course were always talking about this Club of theirs. In March 1972 I decided to try it out for myself. It was the sort of weather hill walkers dream about - cold, crisp, sunny and windless. I joined a small group doing the circuit of Glenmalure from Conavalla around to Lug. Despite a nail-biting, twilight descent of the Baravore and a lot of crawling through drainage ditches in pitch darkness I was hooked. This was the Club for me. It was to remain my Club for over a decade after that. One of the good things about the Glenmalure trip was the ready availability of cars. This was heaven, as I previously had to rely on the 44, 49A and 65 buses for most of my walks. Not only could you get to places like Glenmalure but (equally important for a penniless secondary school student) the cost of petrol money was less than the busfare to Enniskerry. Little did I know how soon I was going to find myself back at the mercy of CIE. Following the breakaway of older graduates in 1973 the Club was short of members and even shorter of cars. There were only 11 people in Kerry in Christmas '73, less than half the previous year's number. The car situation was even worse. On the way down I took the "soft" option of travelling from Killarney train station to Killorglin by bus and road walking from there to Glencar. The real hards and the truly poverty stricken walked all the way from Killarney. During the next few years the Club actively sought new recruits and by about 1976 numbers had returned to the levels of previous years.
As most of the new members were students the car shortage remained a problem. The Club had very little money and many a committee meeting was spent agonising over how many hired buses we could afford. The answer was not many, despite the discovery of Furlong's cheap if basic bus. To fill the buses and thus reduce our losses we did our best to find people to share them with. A trip to the Blackstairs for example was made possible by sharing with the Clogher Road Vocational School. Despite our best efforts most walks relied on public transport. Long road walks at the start and end of each day were all too familiar. Some people even got into the habit of carrying runners in their rucksacks for the road walks. Transport problems certainly did not prevent the Club doing a lot of hard, fast walking. Each Sunday saw a slow walk for beginners, but there was normally also a hard walk in which no mercy was shown. The "pub Sprint" was a feature of Club walks in the early seventies. At the end of a walk, when still about one or two miles from the pub, we regrouped. At the shout of "pub sprint" those who were still not completely exhausted raced each other to the pub.
We also rock climbed but our equipment and climbing standards were far below those of today. Few people could consistently lead above severe. We had not heard of an El, let alone dreamt of leading one. Malinbeg and the Burren had not yet come to prominence. When we ventured beyond Dalkey and Glendalough it was generally to the big inland crags - the Poisoned Glen, Lough Barra and Ben Corr. An outing that epitomises the period for me was a mass assault on Caveman's Delight, an 1100 foot, badly protected, V Diff on Ben Corr in the Twelve Bens. I was on the last of about four ropes of climbers. The first rope carried a peg hammer and three pegs. We had the only other peg hammer. They put the pegs in, one for every three hundred and seventy feet of climbing! The other ropes belayed on them as they passed and we took them out. At one stage we had to run out more than a full rope length without any main belay or even a runner. Needless to say it was well after dark by the time we got down. Towards the end of the seventies the passage of time again created a growing number of graduates in our ranks. They could now afford to buy cars and gear and they could afford to go abroad. Trips to Scotland and the Alps had been virtually unheard of in 1973 - 1975. After about 1976 the nine day Easter trip to Scotland became a well supported annual event. Most years saw at least one group head for the Alps or the Pyrenees, some to walk, others to climb.
The Club made considerable advances on the climbing front in the late seventies and early eighties. Most notably Keefe Murphy put up some pioneering routes on the Burren sea cliff which ranked amongst the hardest first ascents by any Irish Climbers. Clare Sheridan, who started climbing with the Club, went on to make a name as one of the country's top women climbers. There were unfortunately some fatal accidents. I would like to remember some of the people who walked with me in the Club and who have since died.
Some died on the hills, others elsewhere - Monica Henchey, Niall Kenny, Dympna Meaney, Se O'Brien and Catherine Sherry. May they rest in peace.
by Declan O'Keeffe (Captain 1981/82)
.... so you're walking around the LGs on Freshers Week in 1979 minding your own business when Euge O'Riordan, wielding an ice axe approaches you and says listen punk you have to ask yourself do I feel lucky and you think well I was in the Boy Scouts so you sign up and suddenly it's Sunday Morning on Earlsfort Terrace and you keep your eyes focused on your new JBs hoping that Mick O'Shea isn't going to try to lock you in the boot of Ciaran Finch's state of the art Morris Minor like he has just done with Lorcan O'Sullivan and it's raining and they throw you out of the bus in Glenmalure and John Brophy and Maeve Cooke leave you behind all the way from the Zig Zags to Lug and all the way back down the Barravore and you don't have a parachute and the best you can hope for is to die in your sleep and you think well I was in the Boy Scouts and they bring you into the pub in Roundwood and let you buy them pints and on the way home you keep your eyes focused on your new JBs hoping that Colm O'Riordan and John Gleeson aren't going to try to hang you by your bootlaces from the overhead rail like they have just done with Keefe Murphy and Louis Mooney is playing a mean tin whistle with a manic glint in his eye while the Railway song chases the Monto down the Rocky Road to Dublin and you begin to wish you were in the Girl Guides and they let you out in Earlsfort Terrace and its raining and you can't find the key to your bike and you think to yourself - bitchin!.....
...... and then its the summer of 1980 and you emerge dirty and deshevelled from the train in Lourdes in the company of John Brophy and Robbie Roe and already they're getting on what's left of your nerves and they give you your opinions and you walk 20,000 feet up to your first alpine hut only it's in the Pyrenees and as the angle eases to 90° John and Robbie who got there first of course tell you the hut is full and you wish they were in the Boy Scouts and it's not raining and you wish it was and you spend the night on the floor of the kitchen and then the sun shines for the next fortnight and you realise that you've never enjoyed yourself so much in your life and Enda Mooney and Veronica O'Loughlen are there and you meet Ned and Catherine and John Byrne and Cormac and Siobhan are somewhere around and you never want to see a boy scout again as long as you live and there aren't enough Pyrenees to go round and you know you'll be back but you don't know it will be ten years because you're about to discover the Alps - and the beat goes on
..... so you're back in Ireland and you're on the committee and you can't believe your luck and Colm O'Riordan is running a tight ship and there are navigation classes with cross sections of potatoes to explain contours and you walk all the mountains in Wicklow and you go to be inspired by Peter Boardman and then it's Christmas and you cycle from Killarney with Paul Egan and there are fifty people crammed into two houses near Caragh Lake and it rains all the time and Euge and Louis and Keefe and Cathy hang their wet tent in the dining room having pitched it in a river and just when you thought you had seen it all they bring you up on the Beenkeeragh Ridge to defy gravity in a howling gale and somewhere a boy scout clears his throat and you swear and pray and hope and fall over and then you're in Jack Walshe's and the fire is roaring and pints are flowing and the sing-song on New Years Eve goes on for ever and you know you're in heaven and you climb Knocknadobar on New Year's Day because it's there and at Easter you hitch to Doolough to camp by the lake in glorious weather and you walk over all the mountains in Connacht without meeting any boy scouts at all and you know you must have died in your sleep - and the beat goes on........
...... and then it's the summer and you're led into the Garden of Eden in Dalkey Quarry by Peter Malin and he points you at a sheer wall of rock where no man has trodden since Adam and Eve were expelled from it and you crawl and claw and whimper and you gain some height and you can't breathe because your heart is in your mouth until you discover how Paradise can be regained at the top of each climb and then they ask you to do another one and this time you've got more confidence in your feet and you start to enjoy it and they tell you you're doing well until Keefe Murphy glides past you with his hands in his pockets and you fall off and they tell you you're doing great and you wish you were dead and you nearly were and suddenly its a year later and you're fumbling your way around Cornwall and the old Mick for the hard road is coaxing you up Commando Ridge and you're camped at Land's End with the feel of warm granite under your hands by day and cold pints under your belt by night and before you know where you are you're back in Dalkey coaxing beginners to regain paradise and moving click-click-click up the rock placing clipping climbing checking and totally in tune - and the beat goes on.......
... so you're drinking and you're dancing. and the sing-song's really happening and the beer and whiskey wisdom's running high and Mick is singing and Colm is singing and Enda is singing and Mark is singing and Donogh is singing and the bus is rolling from Wicklow to Dublin and it's Sunday and you're tired but you're happy and you remember eighteen hundred and forty one and it's nineteen hundred and seventy three but you weren't there but you must has been and it's nineteen and eighty five and you were there and they should have been and it's nineteen hundred and ninety eight and you're still here and you're glad you've been and you look out the window and you see Wicklow and you see Kerry and you see Scotland and you see the Alps and you'd love to see the Himalayas and your heart is breaking when you think of all who've gone but its not because they're still here and you're still here and the Club will always be here and you think to yourself...
where it's at!
In 1979, UCDMC was captained by Maeve Cooke, who returned from exile for the purpose, in a manner popularised by Lenin. With membership standing at 244, the Club was in a very strong position. In stark contrast with 1967, when the programme for the year included an annual outing to Lugnaquilla, and the bulk of the trips was located in North Wicklow and the Dublin Mountains, we spent most Sundays further South and West. Christmas that year was spent in Lauragh, with everybody piled into an old schoolhouse. Not having attended, I can only rely on rumour and gossip, both of which were fortunately rife. One incident involved the pitching of a tent in the main room and the New Year's Eve Party, stewarded by Mick O'Shea, remained a benchmark for years to come.
Still feeling my way, I concentrated mostly on hillwalking, although occasional forays into Dalkey Quarry revealed a healthy rock climbing scene with many leaders, including Mick O'Shea, Lorcan O'Sullivan, Robbie Roe, John Brophy, Peter Malin and Maire Ni Chíosáin. Malinbeg was the place to be after the exams and before the summer lacuna. That Summer, foreign activity seemed to centre on the Pyrenees, with two or three occasionally interlinking groups ranging from Gavarnie to Pic du Midi d'Ossau and beyond. A pattern emerged which has influenced much of my life in the intervening years - walking from October to April,
followed by rock climbing and some class of an Alpine trip. As a Committee member in 1980, I was much more involved in running the Club. The unholy alliance of Colm O'Riordan, Peter Malin and Keefe Murphy survived the elections and were a powerful guiding force for some time to come. My first Christmas trip (to Glenbeigh) opened my eyes and the walking moved up a couple of notches, although the weather was foul. The non-stop activity, craic and camaraderie bowled me over. Colm O'Riordan, in particular, was a powerhouse of energy.
The staple diet remained one of regular walking in Wicklow. But this was frequently supplemented by weekend trips to such places as the Galtees, the Comeraghs and the Inagh Valley. We always camped on these trips - houses were only used at Christmas. Doolough was a popular Easter venue for some years, while the end of the Summer exams saw climbers take off for Malinbeg and points North East. That Summer (1981) I was fortunate to be invited on a climbing trip to Cornwall, where I was dragged kicking and screaming up a series of classic v.diff and severe routes by a series of very difficult and severe leaders. One of those was Keefe Murphy, who was about to come into his kingdom.
The year 1981 - 82 was a particularly traumatic one for the Club and marked another watershed in its history. The year was clouded by the death of Peter McDonell in a blizzard on Lugnaquilia shortly before Christmas. Others were obliged to spend some or all of the night on the mountain. Happening, as it did in our midst, it had a big affect on Club morale. The Christmas trip a fortnight later was the best of times and the worst of times. The location was an outdoor pursuit centre in the Inagh Valley, which comfortably accommodated 65 of us. The group, which would Club Cualann later in the year, had organised a separate trip. Thrown back on its resources, (shades of 1972), the Club emerged again as a more tightly knit unit.The walking was magnificent, as the Bens, Maam Turks and Mweelrea were covered in snow and ice. However, the week was not without incident - the most memorable being when an engineer in our midst attempted to fuel the generator with water, precipitating an energy crisis for the last three days. Miraculously, a supply of petrol stoves saved the day, and permitted even the serving of an enormous New Year's Day dinner , composed of leftovers and masterminded by Paul Egan. An unfortunate side effect was the failure of the water pump leading to an outbreak of dysentery. Among the victims was Joe Mottley, whose Treasurer's abilities were so impaired, that the Club had to resort to deficit financing. Other memories of the trip include - a bucket / saucepan chain to fill the cistern from a nearby lake; concealing two coffins behind the couch in Joe Keane's upper room, so as to permit a sing-song on New Year's Eve and playing ice hockey on frozen lakes high in the Bens. As a result of the accident, the Club introduced navigation weekends based in the IMC hut in Glendalough, which have become a regular feature of the calendar. The first of those was particularly successful, thanks in the main to the organising skills of Lorcan O'Sullivan. Easter 1982 saw two trips organised - one to Scotland and the other to Glencar. Camping in Jack Walshe's back garden, we were never short of pub grub - particularly useful when the landlord's dogs had raided the tents for meat. 1982 saw the election, of the first of a Blessed Trinity of lady captains. This was Angela Conroy who would make history by eventually marrying one of her predecessors, Colm O'Riordan. The usual round of fixtures continued with the Christmas trips in 1982 and 1983 both being located near Glenbeigh - a return to tradition after the Western aberration of 1981. The Easter trip returned to Doolough each year although there were also two unofficial trips to Scotland (Torridon and Ullapool).
Angela was succeeded by Geraldine Coleman and Jacintha McSherry respectively and under their stewardship the Club continued to prosper. Many of the regulars at the turn of the decade were involved with Cualann while others were forced to emigrate for work. A small but determined group of climbers continued to push the limits with much work being done on the Burren sea cliffs. Chief among them was Keefe Murphy whose outstanding climbs included Through the Looking Glass (E3) and Virtual Reality (E4). Keefe's achievement was given due recognition when he appeared on the front cover of the first issue of " The Irish climber". Foreign trips abounded with members visiting the Alps - the Stubai and La Berarde being particularly popular venues. The period of transition ended in 1984 when a new group of young tigers began to make their presence felt. The committee that year included the next three captains - Seamus MacGearailt, Traolach O'Brien and Mark Lang. Their arrival was heralded by the usual portents - hard walking, devil-may-care climbing, eclipses of the moon, not to mention such feats as cycling from Dublin to Doolough in one day (Seamus and Traolach repeating Robbie Roe's solo run of 1978). Another chapter in the history of UCDMC was drawing to a close. What would emerge would be a leaner Club led by a new generation.
by Seamus Mac Gearailt (Captain 1985/86)
Keeping With Tradition
There was a sense of old tradition about the Mountaineering Club in 1984, that seemed strangely out of place, since many of the legendary characters were no longer around, but the rituals of long walks, bivvys in Wicklow
and overnight Lug Walks in winter stayed on. John Furlong provided Sunday buses until we ran out of money, and then it was the 49 to Bohernabreena or lifts to Wicklow with the few remaining cars for the fortunate. Most new members joined during the Freshers Week recruitment fair, but there was also a steady influx of experienced mountaineers from U.C.G., who had come to work in Dublin. A camping trip to the Galtees in November 1984 is memorable for a disastrous series of accidents, as well as being completely washed out by rain. Christmas in Castlegregory that year was less eventful, with most of the activity concentrated in O'Connor's Green Room bar, and the search for Geraldine Coleman's trousers.
January 1985 came in cold and snowy, and so it stayed into March. The big freeze allowed Keefe Murphy and Louis Mooney to climb the frozen waterfall on Glendalough crag, while the rest of us fought over the few Club ice-axes in the glaciated Mournes. The water supply for the Queens hut that weekend, came in a dozen vodka bottles supplied by the only nationalist pub in Kilkeel. Several weeks later there was a very successful trip to snowy Wales. The Bangor Station Bivy was de rigeur in those days, followed by a hearty breakfast in Pete's Eats, With ice-axes begged and borrowed from all quarters, the many Munroes of Snowdonia were conquered during the glorious bank holiday weather.
As only a small number of non-students remained involved in the Club at that time, there was a general lull in activity leading up to exams, and throughout the Summer. Things picked up again in the Autumn of 1985, with hired buses, the Navigation Weekend, and another trip to the Galtees which this time enjoyed fabulous weather.
Only a small party of about 20 went to Connemara for the Christmas trip of 1985. We stayed in the old Westport Estate hunting lodge at Delphi, which is now a posh fishing lodge. On the first night the weather was so cold that the water in Killary Harbour froze on the shore as the tide ebbed. The brilliant weather allowed a few of us to climb Carrot Ridge on Ben Corr, and after a great week of walking and partying, many of us had become seriously committed to mountaineering. Friendships were fostered on that trip that would develop into many rock climbing partnerships, and alpine teams over the ensuing years.
A New Independence
The mounting transport crisis came to a head in the winter of 1985/86. The number of active mountaineers was insufficient to support a large coach, and although the few car-drivers were generous with lifts, there was never enough space for everyone. The resulting limitations on our activities were proving extremely frustrating to an increasingly ambitious bunch of people. Then Geraldine discovered that her sister knew of a chap in the Wayfarers who had a 20 seater bus, and liked going away hill walking. We had found a saviour - Jobus piloted by the redoubtable Joe Mount. Charging what could hardly be described as an economic rate, and putting up with hardship beyond the call of duty, Joe and his bus became our ticket to a new independence.
One of the first weekend trips in Joe's bus took us to the Comeraghs in the freezing February of 1986. The bus was jammed with people and equipment, as we drove into a snow filled Nire valley. The overnight survival of
the newer, and poorly equipped, recruits can be attributed to the policy of cramming six of them into a four man Vango tent, and letting body heat do the rest. A paltry amount of winter equipment was distributed amongst the group according to the time honoured Club traditions of power and privilege, and we bashed around the icy Comeraghs for two days in the mist without ever seeing a view. For all of us it was our first experience of ice climbing, which consisted of the leader climbing using two ice axes and the only pair of crampons, then belaying on one axe battered into the frozen turf, before sending the second axe back down the runnerless rope to the unfortunate partner, who followed by cutting steps in the rock hard ice.
For the next couple of years Joe provided the mainstay transport for Club trips. He took us to Rossbeigh in Kerry for the Christmas of 1986, and to Castlegregory in 1987, as well as weekend trips to the Mournes, Mayo, Connemara, and Wales. By the time he went to England, a whole new generation had graduated, and there were more cars around. The location of the Christmas trip varied every year, but was based mostly in Kerry, with the inclusion of Connemara every couple of years. Eventually the scope was widened, and following Castlegregory in 1987, the location moved to Louisburgh, Co. Mayo for 1988, and then for the first time in years, we spent a very enjoyable Christmas 1989 in Dunfanaghy, Co. Donegal.
Rock Jocks
In the Spring of 1984, Traoloch O'Brien and I were initiated in the specialist craft of rock-climbing. Our instructors were Euge O'Riordan and Louis Mooney, and our leader was Liam Collins who had started a year before and had the necessary gear. The big issues of chalk, bolts and competitions lay beyond the horizon at that stage, and ambitions were focused on climbing HVS, and acquiring enough gear for two or three runners as well as a belay. Our positions as committee members enabled us to direct Club funds towards buying rock gear, and by spring 1985 we were independent climbers, breaking a leg each in the process. We would escape from the rigours of study to go climbing in Dalkey, Glendalough and Luggala; grateful recipients of lifts from the graduate classes. Over the next few years, new climbers emerged one by one - Mark Lang, Declan Doyle, Niamh Laffan, Paul Horan, Padraic Breen, Paul Harrington, and Padraig Cunningham, until eventually a sustainable climbing community had been re-established in the Club.From advance base at Euge and Cathy's house in Dundalk, we set out for our first trip to Fair Head in October 1985. The old hands were showing the new boys where the real action was to be had. This trip left us awed and inspired at such magnificent challenges for the future, however it was to be nearly two years before we returned. There were no climbing
walls at that time, so you hung up your boots from October to March every year, and concentrated on bog trotting, drinking, and trying to shift someone on New Years Eve instead.
The 1986 climbing season opened with a trip to the Burren at Paddy's weekend. There was the usual small crew, supplemented by Christy Neary, whose elegant rock ballet was an inspiration to us all. The highlight
of the season was a blistering June bank holiday in Malinbeg. After Hurricane Charlie, at the end of August 1986, Traoloch and I spent a surreal week living in the cave below Luggala. We worked our way through the classic VS routes, then the HVS ones, until at the weekend when the rest of the posse came to visit, we could call down to them from a perch on "Gilt Edge", way up in the middle of the main face. At that point it seemed like there were no limits, and the future was wide open.
The momentum gathered over the following years. Some of us bought cars, the country became smaller, and weekends away became more frequent. In 1989, as far as I can remember, we were away for 22 weekends out of 28 between March and October. Up and down the country, the circus travelled to Clare, Fair Head, Donegal, Tormore, and the Mournes, picking off the best of Irish climbing. One particular weekend that will always shine in my memory, was when John Gleeson took us to Fair Head for Midsummer 1987. The oak wood behind the hut in Murlough Bay was filled with bluebells and primroses, as the Rathlin buzzards hovered overhead. Across the waters of the North Channel, the Mull of Kintyre seemed closer than Howth does from Dun Laoghaire. All of Scotland lay before us, from Islay and Jura in the North, to the ancient rock of Ailsa Craig in the South. It never grew dark at night - the brightness just wheeled slowly across the Northern sky. That weekend, Traoloch and I climbed "An Bealach Runda", a beautiful, meandering, and enveloping route in the most remote fastnesses of the Head. Sitting on the level lawn of the top, watching the swirling currents around Rathlin, I thought I would never want to come down again. There were other memorable trips, such as Pembroke in June 1989, and again in 1990, or to the Lake District also in 1990. All the while the numbers were growing and standards improving. High points were reached in summer of 1991 and 1992 when two of Keefe's best routes in the Burren were repeated for the first time by Club members: these were "Siren" by Traoloch O'Brien, and "Through the Looking Glass" by Padraic Breen. The rock climbing credentials of the Club were now firmly re-established.
Toys For The Boys
Climbing mountains, as everyone knows, is all about the right equipment, and the Club has always maintained an equipment pool for the use of members. In the early eighties, the Club gear pool consisted mostly of camping gear, primarily several, indestructible Vango Force 10 tents, as well as two or three ancient ice-axes, generally about one metre in length. Such equipment however, was sorely inadequate for the rising ambitions of the "hardcore" at the time. A masterful grant application laced with threats of casualties that would result from the poor state of Club equipment, was prepared in 1985 by Mark Lang the treasurer and Traoloch O'Brien the equipment officer, resulting in a massive increase in the Club equipment grant. Subsequent years' grants were similarly generous, and an excellent pool of equipment was soon available. As well as buying alpine/winter equipment which would normally have been well beyond the pockets of students, some of the funds were used to subsidise the sale of rock gear to student climbers, to encourage more, and safer, leading. Several lightweight tents and stoves were also purchased, making backpacking trips feasible without yaks. Without the backup of this equipment pool, many of the trips to the Alps in that period would not have been possible. Over the same period personal equipment was also revolutionised in the general mountaineering community, and it wasn't long before the affliction spread into the UCD Club, hitherto a bastion of check shirts, tweed trousers, Aran geansies, and the indispensable, 100% impermeable Solo raincoat. Desperate rear guard actions were fought against the Lowe fleece and goretex invasion, and it was commonly held that moral purity could be sustained by only doing long walks, drinking bottled Guinness instead of draught, and singing seventeenth century songs about the deflowering of young maidens at the
back of the bus. But now the last of the vestal virgins is long gone, and the Club bus is a sea of gaudy fleece, lycra, and Lowe rucksacks.
Sun, Snow And Sweat
Since Ireland is not endowed with glaciers there is little opportunity to learn snow and ice climbing techniques at home, and the overall lack of glacier experience in the Club was an impediment to alpine expeditions. In order to gain the necessary skills, between 1982 and 1986, eight or nine people attended snow and ice climbing courses with UCPA in the French Alps. With the experience gained it became possible to plan alpine holidays, and later recruits on the alpine scene could learn from their peers.
The expeditions of 1986 were particularly successful, with a good trip to the Dauphine in June, that included Liam Collins, Ailish Farrell, Ronan Gill, Maurice Prendergast, Mike Corish and Seamus MacGearailt. Many good routes were climbed including the Dibona, Les Bans, the traverse of the Barre des Ecrins, and Pic Nord de Cavales, which translates as "peak of 100 pictures". For a change, the other crew took the train south, to the Pyrenees in September. Here they were joined by Marie Flynn, Paul Horan, Muireann de Freine, David O'Connor and Lorcan "HVS" Kennan and managed to climb Vignemale and Monte Perdido.
The local weather system around Arolla, in Switzerland, defied the general pattern of Alpine weather in August 1987, and remained moderately good for the group of eight that assembled there, including most of the usual suspects, plus Louis, Bridget and Bernie en route to Corfu. Meanwhile another crew was literally washed out of Bregaglia by the floods. Ascents of note that year were, Mont Blanc de Cheilon, the north face of Pigne d'Arolla, and the traverse of La Singla. Never have I drunk so much beer on a climbing holiday, and all because Padraig Cunningham wanted cover for his advances to the waitress in the local hotel. Rebuffed, he departed to Austria to join Francis Butler, Geraldine Coleman, Gerry Murray, Marie Flynn, and Phillip Boughan, for a walking tour in the Stubai, at the end of August.
Winter highlights revolved around trips to Scotland, with most years seeing a gang of rabid munroists dashing around bagging the best Caledonian peaks. The basic lesson of the time was that if you wanted good weather, you had to bring Paul Horan, whose presence had an uncanny coincidence with lovely weather; such as in Skye '87, and Torridon '88. When Paul stayed at home, the weather was brutal as in Glencoe 1989, Cairngorms/Torridon 1990, and Glenshiel 1991.
A compact group of four travelled to Bregaglia on a shoestring budget in August 1988. Paul Harrington and Declan Doyle were the alpine novices, accompanying Mark Lang and myself. We were joined in the San Martino di Masino at various stages by Liam and Ailish, and Euge and Cathy. The weather was tremendous, and we climbed many beautiful rock routes on the perfect granite of the Val di Mello, Piz Badile, Cengalo and other surrounding peaks. There was also some more serious mountaineering on Monte Disgrazia north face, and Piz Bernina, the highest peak in the area.
By 1989 there was a lot of accumulated alpine experience, which gave rise to greater ambitions, and luck being pushed perhaps a little too far. The year did not start well with a pair of mountaineers, who shall remain anonymous, being airlifted off Tower Ridge on Ben Nevis in February. Another group spent a couple of weeks floundering through unseasonal snow in La Berarde that June, without much success. Then in August, whilst passing three weeks in Chamonix, another trio experienced an horrific and epic descent on the north face of the Aiguille Verte, which involved 13 hours of abseiling, and an overnight bivy hanging from the ropes on the edge of an ice field, being bombarded by little avalanches. Much equipment was lost, but luckily there were no injuries. It was a chastened bunch of people that faced into the nineties at the end of the year.
The Vision Thing
It is difficult to gaze across the world from the summit of a mountain, without developing grand views of society and our own communities down below. For the past ten years UCD Mountaineering Club has been my community: a place to develop friendships and realise ambitions that once were only dreams. During that period the Club has developed to the point that high standard rock climbing, Alpine trips for large groups, including many students, and expeditions to the bigger mountains of the world, are the norm rather than the exception.
The great thing about a living, developing Club is the warm, open atmosphere it fosters, based on tradition, experience, and friendship across the generations. One of my best friends joined the Club in the early seventies, whereas others only came in the nineties. It is such a sense of continuity and regeneration that has sustained this mountaineering Club in the past, and will ensure that we continue to be one of the leading Clubs in the country in the future. Such a Club never outgrows its roots, and over time attracts people of all ages who see it as not just a university Club. There is plenty of room in the organisation for the activities of small groups in parallel with the main agenda, and such multifarious activity actually enriches the Club as a whole, reducing the crowd syndrome which can put people off. What matters are the links and contacts that give rise to a choice from a variety of mountaineering experiences to suit all tastes. When I signed up in 1982, there was no question of moving on to another Club after graduation. After all, Oxford University Mountaineering Club has members for 50 years, so why can't UCD?
by Deirdre Flynn (Captain 1992/93)
A young and beardless Darragh Smyth sets out on his first hike with the Establishment in October 1989 - to Bray! Excessive numbers on the bus prompted Meets Secretary Peter Cudden to lead a group of Freshers to the Dart station, where he proceeded to take out a map and compass to find the Sugarloaf. At the AGM in Francis Butler's house Darragh was nominated for Meets Secretary while John McEnri took over the helm from Diarmuid O Cuinn who had held the fort for the previous two years. In May 1990 Paul Harrington and Declan Doyle set off on their South American expedition. Between them they climbed seven mountains over 5,000m and attempted another three in Peru, Ecuador and Bolivia. "The most beautiful mountain in Peru" : Alpamayo (5947 m); "The most difficult mountain in Peru": Cayesh (a second ascent by the bold Pharrington); and the highest mountain in Peru: Huascaran (6750 m) conquered by Declan. That summer the climbing wall was finally built in the Sports Centre in college. A contributing factor to the doubling of numbers in October 1990, the wall has proved a great way of introducing new climbers to the scene. However, with numbers growing to 270, John Mc Enri was seen screaming around the Arts block : "enough! enough! close the stand!" For the first hike (to Glendalough, where else?) the Club had to resort to two buses. Inexplicably, the two medium hikes, doing the horseshoe in different directions, never managed to meet in the middle.
The Navigation weekend of 1990 was remarkable, not only for John McEnri's rendition of 'Freebird', but also for Darragh's orienteering course, including a control in a smelly pit, containing one dead sheep and for Waldo's incredible snoring! Picture the scene - the brothers Lang vying with each other to see who has the most obscure comely-maiden-meets-dashing-soldier song in a kitchen opposite Kate Kearney's Cottage at Christmas. Enda displays his musical talent on no less than four instruments (harmonies supplied by Paul Carroll) while Joe Mount displays his belly in the bop-centre (must have been the aphrodisiac!). Kerry saw the instigation of the set-dancing school, the bicycle brigade (the forgotten people) and Francis' remarkable rescue
of Deirdre Doyle and Co. at Eagle's Nest.
Wales of '91 was a weekend of fantastic weather - straight off the boat and up Crib Goch for most. Joe came with a minibus, disgusted that people weren't drunk already (Yis have no lead in yer pencils!) and slobbed mightily for the weekend. The effects of Sunday night's revelling - including Declan trying to kill Mark with a blunt saw, a local sheep being terrorised and a bottle or two of whiskey - could be seen on Tryfan the next day, as hikers oozed Southern Comfort from every pore and Declan had to sit and "rest" at frequent intervals. Sarah's charade of the Kama Sutra was a masterpiece in acting skills - but were there animals involved?
After the exams we headed to the Mournes where some of us stayed in the Queen's Hut and others in the camping site. Paul Harrington unveiled a new genre in climbing songs while the Flynn sisters recalled every nursery rhyme they ever knew! Six students joined the annual oldie trip to Scotland in 1991 and climbed a gully on Ben Nevis - some with crampons and some with axes - but none with both! This and some ice in Kerry the previous December had given them a taste for the Alps and the idea of a student-based Club trip was born. That summer we met regularly in Dalkey Quarry to prepare. There were weekends in the Burren, Glendalough and elsewhere, but the waiting was unbearable. I remember sitting in Francis' house watching Seamus's slides of La Berarde and thinking that maybe I was a bit out of my depth.
Sixteen of us went to La Berarde, a village with only one tiny shop which ran out of bread (breakfasts of mushroom soup and chocolate) and a campsite where the toilet block served as shelter for dinner-making, whiskey drinking and card games late into the night. The highlights were our first glacier crossings, aided by Declan and Francis; the climbs on the Dibona, Pic Nord de Caval and Pic Coolidge; the first unguided ascent of the Pilatte glacier by the new alpinists, and gorgeous, dry, sunny, multi-pitch climbing. Some of us even managed to spend a night in a luxurious ski resort on the way over - sleeping in a tiny bus shelter when we got on the wrong bus! The knicker tree was my own personal triumph, as well as the morning rock for insomniacs, and multi-coloured bruises. Our Club mascot, Pierre Gaspard, le marmotte, was born in Bourg d'Oisans; a notable and active member of the Club since then. Bill and Owen never did get to Zermatt...
October 1991 saw Darragh Smyth as Captain with Donogh Lang riding shotgun as Meets secretary. An influx of the Erasmus students helped the membership to reach 360. The Inaugural Indoor Climbing Competition, the brainchild of Darragh and Ronan Laffan , took place in the sports centre in November. 64 climbers from colleges around the country took part, and UCD was well represented. Yours truly took the women's title while Darragh got to the finals.
Leenane was the venue for Christmas, where the biggest house held 24 people and Aisling O'Sullivan played Mammy to all and sundry. I refused to play Mammy to my ten hunks of manhood in the red light district (50p in the meter, and all that), the house where the microwave wouldn't receive RTE anymore. Alan O'Brien played barman tricks, Susan played with her Chippendales, and Owen pitted his strength against Cap'n Smyth in an iron-stomach competition. The trip epic was undoubtedly our ascent of what we thought was Carrot Ridge, (Caveman's Delight ???) in wintery and wet conditions. The 1992 Lug Walk was completed by a record 22 people, including 8 women, forever scrapping the myth of the hard-man hike. One group opted for a two-day walk, camping overnight - not a lot of fun carrying all that gear over 36 miles but they finished it anyway! The conditions were favourable, although most of us hit our 'wall' at Duff hill. Everybody should do at least one Lug Walk - then you'll never have to do it again! Declan O'Keefe deserves special mention for having the nerve to lie down in the middle to take a 'nap' - what are our oldies coming to?
Scotland again saw a student contingent, with Darragh, Bill, Paul, Ciaran, John and Donogh joining Seamus and Co. in the heights of comfort and the lows of drinking (whoever did finish that bottle of Talisker?). They climbed Tower Ridge, with the 'ponies'- John, Paul and Darragh "I took a rest day" Smyth trying to do long walks every day of the trip. They died on the fifth day. The haggis which was brought home allowed Paul to dress up in a skirt, Darragh to display his culinary skills and Ronan incomparable flights of imagination about the mating habits of Haggi...
The AGM once again took place in Ballyknockan. Paul tried to preserve his dignity while skinny-dipping with Neil and Willie, but because nobody could tell if the women present were not really hard men, he splashed on in. The Mournes post-exam trip was a sunny weekend of climbing and beachbumming, with a £1-a-night campsite (child's rate), a Freudian reading on -the womblike nature of a tent and Robbie Roe and Declan O'Keeffe shouting much abuse at each other from Slieve Beg - rowdy climbers all. Darragh Smyth applied for the ENSA scholarship course in Chamonix through the MCI and was accepted. He spent two weeks climbing in the region with Traolach O'Brien, Declan Doyle etc., including Mont Blanc, before joining the others on his course for alpine-lead training for another two weeks. Meanwhile the rest of us climbed during the summer, this time preparing for a Chamonix expedition. Weekends in the Burren, Ireland's Eye and Glendalough led towards September. A mere twelve days before we were due to head off I took a fall off Drifter's Escape in the Quarry, badly damaging an ankle and leaving myself crutches-bound for three weeks - adieu Chamonix... The other twelve student mountaineers headed off for three weeks, Cian Duggan strutting his climbing stuff, Bill Murphy and Rory O'Connor epic-bound on the Grepon (and on and on and on), Fo Dunne, Bryan Raleigh, Mark Purcell and Eoghan de Barra having a great day on the Aiguille de I'M, a spectacular ascent of the Cosmiques Arrete by all and sundry and the introduction of garlic porridge to the extensive Club menu list. Snowed-in in the Couvercle hut, what did our bunch do, only finish off all the food there - whether theirs or not! Bill, climbing up a gully behind a French group, asked in his own inimitable Francais how to yell "below!" when throwing down a rope. The Frenchman pointed to another gully, telling Bill "la-bas" (down there), whereupon our Corkinan coils his rope, flings it down the frenchman's gully and yells out: "LA-BAS!". Luckily, he had a sense of humour...
In October Ciaran Clissmann organised and led an expedition to Mera peak (6476 m) in the Khumbu Himal range in the North-West of Nepal. Ten climbers left from Dublin; with both Ciaran and John McEnri reaching the summit successfully in late October, and celebrating in style in Kathmandu. In October 1992 the stroppy wench took over as captain, and although the membership fee was doubled (college rules), we retained our membership of 375. "The year of the list" started with the introduction of coffee afternoons (every Tuesday lunchtime), the Alps slide-show and the Mera Peak slide-show. The Fresher's week abseil off the library attracted two security guards - not to stop the proceedings, but to give it a go! The Navigation Weekend numbers kept on climbing while a December camping trip to the Galtees had fine days and lots of snow to play in and no pub! In Donegal at Christmas Ian Norton ran out of mountains and Betsy (Seamus's
"car") finally died - a minute's laugh was observed. Enda played to a packed ceili house, the hard men bivvied out on Muckish, and Bryan and Alan introduced first years to the joys of winter climbing.
Meanwhile, Cian Duggan was climbing Mont Blanc, as part of a European expedition to mark the 1992/3 breaking down of trade barriers. One student mountaineer from each member state participated. Paul Harrington was once again in South America, attempting the central tower of the Towers of Paine. Access permits caused problems however and the ascent had to be abandoned.
The second Intervarsity Climbing Competition was held in February , again in UCD with Bryan Raleigh taking the title of best undergraduate climber, (and getting a photo of his bum in the College Tribune). Unlike many other college clubs, UCD is not a "wall" club, not a climbing club, not a rambling club, but a Mountaineering Club in the full sense of the word and to her we dedicate the words of Henry Grattan "esto perpetua - long may it continue"
by Donogh Lang (Captain 1995/96) -with additional material by Rory O'Connor and Declan O'Keeffe
UCD Mountaineering Club celebrated its 25th anniversary in characteristic style with a highly memorable and entertaining evening in An Culturlann in Monkstown in February 1993. The evening consisted principally of a
series of presentations covering various eras of the Club's history, which allowed older members a chance to reminisce, and gave newer members an appreciation of how hard it all was in the old days. The 25th anniversary was quickly followed by the Club's annual pilgrimage to Wales, returning once again to purify ourselves in the fleshpots of Nant Peris. The standard ritual of Day 1 - Crib Goch & Snowdon, Day 2 - the Glyders, and Day 3 - Tryfan and the Bristly Ridge was performed by all present. Winter conditions were not to be found but entertainment was not lacking thanks mainly to the copious quantities of duty free that had been acquired on the outward journey.
Following the usual programme of Sunday walks, the pre-exam season ended with the AGM held in the Ballyknockan Inn on the shores of the Blessington Lakes. The meeting itself, which saw the captaincy pass from the capable hands of Dee Flynn to the equally capable hands of Bryan Raleigh, was followed by the kind of drunken debauchery which can only be associated with thirty people sleeping together in one small room.
The final official trip of the academic year saw the Club going to the Mournes. Most present used the opportunity to brush up on rock-climbing skills which had become slightly rusty during the preceding exam period. In August, Paul Harrington and Bill Murphy, made some very notable ascents in the Alps, including the Gervasutti Pillar on Mont Blanc de Tacul and both the Bonatti Pillar and American Direct on the Petit Dru. This in addition to a week of hard climbing in the Verdon Gorge. The official Club Alpine trip in September was not, however, blessed with such success. Bad weather restricted most activity to low-level crags and bars. Fitness
levels were maintained by some members of the party by means of indoor pursuits.
A significant event occurred for the Club that Autumn. After considerable planning and negotiation with the College Authorities, the first major extension to the indoor climbing wall in the Sports Centre was opened. This turned what had been a relatively modest affair into the best climbing wall in the Dublin area, giving Club members free access to a first-class facility. In a new departure, the wall was also opened to the public and
quickly became the most popular winter climbing venue in Dublin. In November, the Club returned to the IMC hut in Glendalough for the so-called Navigation weekend. Despite the best efforts of all concerned, there really was no getting away from the fact that this was principally an opportunity for drinking and carousing. There were some impressive feats of navigation alright, but very little of it in the mountains. The comparatively mundane aftermath of the Navigation weekend ended abruptly with the shock resignation of Rory O'Connor as Meets Secretary. Reports that this was part of a secret deal with an unknown party (ah you know...) in exchange for their silence on Rory's secret forty-a-day smoking habit have never been proven.
For the Christmas/New Year trip, the Club descended upon that Mecca of Irish mountaineering, Beaufort, Co.Kerry. Good weather all week combined with snow over 2,000ft to provide excellent winter walking and scrambling among the highest peaks in the country. New Year's Eve was marked by a memorable late night in Kate Kearney's Cottage. Unfortunately the party which was to have followed had to be abandoned when the unwitting landlady was inadvertently invited to along. February 1994 brought the tragic news of the death of club member Bill Murphy following an avalanche in Scotland. Bill was a very experienced and capable mountaineer, the veteran of numerous trips to Wales, Scotland and the Alps, and he had many impressive routes to his name. His death was a sad loss to his many friends in the Club who will remember the affable
Corkman with great fondness.
In March, the Club held a successful weekend in Glendalough which introduced many of the newer members to the pleasures of outdoor rock-climbing for the first time. A compact group headed to Wales only to be greeted by appalling weather conditions which were not conducive to pleasant mountaineering. Respite was sought at the climbing wall in Plas Y Brenin, but this was to prove a bad move for Dee Flynn who was unfortunate enough to break her ankle while bouldering. Meanwhile a mainly graduate expedition headed for Onich near Fort William in Scotland. An enjoyable week was had by all, with the exception of Declan O'Keeffe. Whilst engaging in mountaineering-related activities (i.e. walking home from the pub), Declan succumbed to a rugby tackle from the now Dr. Norton, breaking his forearm clean in two. The steel plates are still there for all to feel.
April marked the end of an era for UCDMC. The AGM of that year was the fourth and last to be held in Ballyknockan. A potentially divisive meeting for the Club proved to be less than controversial and Bryan Raleigh was returned as captain for a second year. An important outcome of the meeting was the appointment of a committee to review the Club constitution. Summer started with two simultaneous post-exam trips. Some went to the Mournes for a weekend, while the gang of ten went for a week-long expedition
to try out the sun, sand, sea and rock in Cornwall. Sunny it was indeed - so sunny in fact that some members of the group sought the shade in preference to climbing, and spent their time (don't you mean your time,
Donogh? - ed.) composing such timeless ditties as The Portdenack Point Climbing Disaster. Not everyone approved. July and August saw two separate groups heading for the Alps. Declan O'Keeffe, Geraldine Coleman, Ronan Laffan and Dee Flynn headed initially for Chamonix, taking time to savour the delights of French cragging at Saffres on the way. They then headed for Arolla in Switzerland before rounding off the trip with some bouldering in Fontainebleau. Meanwhile, Mick Cunney, Bryan Raleigh, Donogh Lang and Mick Thornhill headed initially for Zermatt and Zinal in Switzerland, returning via Chamonix to finish off with the traverse of Mont Blanc.
That September, one of the most ambitious expeditions yet to be organised by members of UCDMC, departed bound for Satopanth (7075m) in the Garwhal Himalaya led by Ciaran Clissman. After establishing their highest camp on the shoulder of the mountain, Ciaran and John MacEnri made a bid for the summit only to be forced to return due to route-finding difficulties. The following day, with the benefit of knowledge gleaned from Ciaran and John, Paul Harrington made a solo ascent of the mountain, equipped with a hand-held video camera which provided some amusing home-movies later in the year.
The new academic year started in October with the usual large numbers joining the Club - due in no small part to the attraction of the climbing wall. It is an encouraging trend that despite relatively large increases in the cost of membership over the years, the level of interest in the Club has remained steady. Whether this is due to an increase in the disposable income of students, or excellent marketing on the part of the Mountaineering Club is difficult to say. The first buses of the year were reminiscent of a refugee camp, and those wishing for a quiet ride home were disappointed as the infamous Club choir did its best to corrupt innocent minds.
The Navigation weekend was held as always in the IMC hut in Glendalough in November. As before, an honest effort was made to teach some navigational skills but it really was a getting-to-know-you weekend. About this time, the club was plunged into a deep constitutional crisis, the like of which had not been seen before. Paralleling events in Irish politics at the time, the well-respected Morality Officer was forced, reluctantly, to resign. (who's that then Donogh? - ed.)
For the Christmas/New Year trip the Club decided to go upmarket, renting a group of houses in the Beaufort Holiday Cottages complex. Numbers per house were limited, meaning, for the first time, that (almost) everyone got a bed. The weather was more mixed than the previous year, but New Year's Eve itself again provided some excellent walking and scrambling in real winter conditions. The hards did the full Ridge of the Reeks, while others enjoyed a fabulous day on the Coumloughra horseshoe. Two weeks after New Years Day, tragedy again struck the Club with news of the death of Con Cormican in Co. Fermanagh. Con died in an attempt to rescue two friends who were caught in strong river currents whilst caving. Con had spent most of his mountaineering career with Bolton St. Mountaineering Club and had joined UCD after graduating from Bolton St. He had also joined us on the September 1993 Alps trip. He had an infectious enthusiasm for life, and mountaineering in particular, and his death was the loss of another good friend. In February, the annual trip to Wales broke with tradition and stayed in Llanberis town itself. This was somewhat fortuitous, as the heavy rain and strong winds made spending the days perusing gear in Joe Browns a substantially more attractive prospect than traversing Crib Goch. So bad was the weather that the trip was cut short and we got an early boat home. By contrast the climbing weekend in Glendalough in March was blessed with good Spring weather to welcome us back to the great outdoors. Also held this weekend was a General Meeting of the Club at which the results of the deliberations of the Constitutional review sub-committee (Bryan Raleigh, Donogh Lang and Declan O'Keeffe) were presented. Some further amendments were proposed, and the new constitution was unanimously accepted. The AGM was also held in Glendalough and marked the end of the
reign of Bryan Raleigh, as the captaincy passed to Donogh Lang. More disturbingly, Ian Norton became Meets Secretary and Cormac Flynn Assistant Meets Secretary. Rumours that the new committee would abolish short and medium walks, and replace them with long, really long, and weekly Lug walks proved to be
unfounded.
The Summer season commenced with the post-exams Mournes weekend. As usual, although there were no official activities during the Summer, Club members could usually be found in Dalkey Quarry on fine weekday evenings, and in various locations around the country at weekends. In July, Enda Mooney, Ronan Laffan and Dee Flynn headed for Ailefroide in the Massif des Ecrins. A good list of routes was topped off with an impressively fast traverse of La Meije in a fraction of guidebook time by Enda and Ronan. By the end of July a much larger group had assembled in La Berarde. A mass assault on the delicate spire of the Aiguille Dibona by a variety of routes included a classic combination of the Boelle and Madier routes by Bryan Raleigh and Donogh Lang. Next on the hit-list was the 4000m Barre des Ecrins via a bivvy below the Col des Ecrins. However, long queues on the summit ridge forced a re-think and the Dome de Niege des Ecrins was taken as a consolation prize instead. The following night, which was Mick Cunney's official birthday, was one to remember, if only anybody could. It is unlikely, however that any of the good citizens of La Berarde
will forget it in a hurry.
The 1995/96 academic year was marked by the breaking of a number of Club traditions. Firstly, the first Sunday bus went to Glenmalure as opposed to Glendalough, and secondly, and perhaps more radically, a novel departure known as the Beginners Weekend was held in Powers the Pot in the Comeragh mountains in October. This weekend, which was predominantly attended by Erasmus students, wasn't quite as incestuous as the usual Navigation weekend, but it did have its moments. We returned to Beaufort Holiday Cottages again for Christmas/New Year.
This time the limit on numbers wasn't quite so strictly enforced, and this, combined with some undiplomatic behaviour on the part of the Climbing and Equipment Officer ensured that this was to be our last year in Beaufort, at least for the time being. Nevertheless, the New Year's Eve party was good, and a good week of walking was available for those who wanted it. Thankfully, some traditions were reinstated that year as the Club returned to its old haunt, the sole habitat of the curious Nant Peris spongeworm (i.e. the Nant Peris bunkhouse) for the Wales trip on St. Patrick's weekend.
This year the gods smiled on us and we got excellent winter conditions which gave three fantastic days of walking and scrambling. The weather was equally good for those who headed for Scotland the same week, as good quality winter conditions made for a week of excellent climbing in the Torridon Hills. Once again the AGM was held in Glendalough, just about. It would not have happened at all had it not been for our former bus driver, Dominick O'Rourke, who drove us to Glendalough at very short notice following the non-showing of the booked bus. This time, the heavy burden of responsibility that is the captaincy landed on Ian Norton's broad shoulders. The first responsibility of the new Committee was to organise the forthcoming Mournes weekend which was timed nicely to coincide with the Queen's University Belfast Mountaineering Club bar-b-que. The smiles on the faces of Sinead and Clare (surnames withheld to protect the innocent) the morning after, told of an historic two-nil victory for UCD. In July, a merry band of four comprising Mick Cunney, Donogh Lang, Dermot Lynch and Mark Purcell headed to revisit the town of Zinal in the Swiss Valais. While descending the Glacier de Mountet after completing a second day of climbing, Mark put his foot through the thin layer of fresh snow only to find that he had stepped into a crevasse and was descending a bit further than expected. Having arrested his fall, his colleagues, being engineers, wasted no time in getting the lad out. After a sleepless night in the Grand Mountet hut, Mark elected to take the swift way down and was promptly helicoptered to hospital where he was diagnosed with a dislocated elbow. He returned home shortly afterwards leaving the remaining three in Zinal from where an ascent of the Bishorn was made. Following this they met up with Mr.Clissman & Co. in Chamonix whence they made a joint ascent of Mont Maudit.
The first term of the 1996/97 academic year followed much the same pattern as the previous one, with a Beginners weekend in the Comeragh Mountains in October followed by the Navigation weekend in Glendalough in December. For the Christmas/New Years trip there was a major departure from previous years. Having tired of Kerry (and in any case not having the option of returning to Beaufort, at least not as UCDMC), the Club block-booked Delphi Adventure Centre in Doolough. This was a bit of an unknown quantity. Firstly, there was only one industrial specification kitchen which was going to add an element of interest to the catering arrangements. Secondly, the location was remote and there was only a smallish bar in the Adventure Centre itself.
Despite reservations, the week proved to be probably the most memorable Christmas trip of the last five years. The weather was perfect for walking with clear, bitterly cold days and the large number of cars present (which reflected the growing affluence and increasing age-profile of the Club) meant that the remote location was not a problem. The cold weather gave Mark his second close encounter with ice in the space of a year, when he decided to test the thickness of ice on a frozen pool with the back of his head We shall henceforth know him as Ice-P. To round the week off, the New Year's Eve party went on till the very small hours of the morning with one of the better sing-songs in recent years. New Year's Day dawned bright and clear (a number were still up to see it) and despite hangovers and lack of sleep, many could not resist the temptation to go walking for a fifth successive day.
After a very sparsely attended weekend in the Comeraghs in February, the Club yet again returned to Nant Peris for St. Patrick's weekend. As has become traditional for the Wales trip, good walking was combined with
gross over-indulgence in alcohol. At the same time, the capitalist graduates headed to the far North of Scotland, or Ullapool to be exact, for a week of very pleasant walking/scrambling, including a traverse of An Teallach.
In May a young, radical new Committee came to power headed by none other than the appropriately named Joy Wall, one of Ireland's top women climbers. In an effort to improve the level of experience in the committee the Captain, Meets Secretary and his assistant were sent on a Mountain Skills course in Tiglin - one of the first times that committee members have ever received recognised training! Summer came and went as usual with UCDMC members present on many weekend trips to Gola Island, the latest and greatest hot-spot in Irish climbing, the development of which owes quite a deal to members of UCDMC. Enda Mooney,
Ronan Laffan, Dee Flynn, Michael MacInerney, Ciaran MacDonald and Danny Buckton went to the Bregaglia in September where a number of notable ascents were made. Meanwhile Dermot Lynch, Seamus Keane and Donogh Lang returned to Scotland to pick off the nice parts of the Cuilinn Ridge on Skye. The current season kicked off with a mighty bus load of eager faces in the Glenmalure valley and they were only the committee. It was a spectacular day with views all over south Wicklow and it was even possible to see Lugnaquillia from Cannow mountain.After exhausting the pleasures of the fleshpots of Glenmalure there ensued the usual round of hills including a quick sprint to the Mournes. Most of these trips were marked by the altruistic absence of the committee enabling us assorted oldies, crusties and wrinkles (pick whichever category you chose) to run amok with the walks and do the ones that we actually wanted to.
Various other notable walks included the pair of walks in Glendalough before and after Christmas which broke all records for extreme wetness and turned the area in front of the fire in the Glendalough Hotel into a scene reminiscent of the sauna in Delphi. However the best walk of the year to date must be our trip to Carlingford and the Cooley mountains on St Bridget's day. It was a perfectly clear day with a mild breeze and
excellent views in all directions - except to the Mourne mountains, where we were supposed to go to that day, which remained in dense cloud. There were various resurrections this season - a Sunday walk small enough to fit on a minibus; Dominic the bus driver; Willy Flynn; and Rory's knees - thanks to a new pair of shorts. There were of course the casualties and we bemoan the demise of the Long Walk, the sing-song on the bus and Dermo and Donogh saying they'll have a look at it. This year the Navigation weekend was abandoned in all but principle, and was replaced by the much more accurately named Glendalough Party weekend which is exactly the same as the good old fashioned Navigation Weekend but without the confusion of an orienteering course. However the hut was just as full as ever and smelt even worse. We returned again to Delphi for Christmas/New year but were not quite so lucky with the weather this time round. Two good days and three appallingly wet ones isn't all that bad for the West of Ireland. An excellent gym
soccer tournament was organised by Ian Norton, Kevin Lennon, Sepp Blatter and Joxer (silken skills from Ciaran O'Brien). We also had a volleyball tournament while the pool table and sauna were well used as was the climbing wall. There were many other sides to the trip - the many different approaches to clothing or lack of it in the sauna (Brussels Sprouts much in evidence) - the episode of the Squad Car and the Welly Wash - Eamon Mac An Bheatha the DJ from hell who wound the clock back more than twenty five years and then tried to hide it. Once again, New Year's Eve was pretty good, although the sing-song was more of a shouting match due to the hoarseness of some of the major players present.
On far foreign fields Mary Nash climbed Aconcagua - the highest peak in South America in February. So far as we know this is the first ascent by an Irish woman. Which brings us back to the present. UCD Mountaineering Club has maintained its presence on the Irish mountaineering scene during years of high club activity, and also during leaner years. As the students and graduates of the last five years hand over to the young guns of today it is with a degree of confidence that we can look forward to celebrating the fortieth anniversary of the club in 2008.