Words: Mark McAuley
Sideboxes: Nathan Kingerlee
Photos: Mark Davis, Derek Aherne & Roisin Finlay
Howling Ridge is often considered a rite-of-passage ascent in the Irish mountains. For many, it marks the transition from mellow rambling to more adrenalin-fueled ascents involving rock faces and ropes. It may be stunning in summer but Mark McAuley and some buddies find it sublime in winter.
More often than not, there is a price to pay for a really good outdoor experience. When you’re skiing, you can ride the lifts all day but often a long slog is needed to reach the best powder. Likewise, a good pummeling often goes hand in hand with a good surf.
As I rubbed my bleary eyes at 7am on a freezing Kerry morning in December, I had to remind myself of one of my dubious theories – if you’re getting up really early on a weekend, you’re probably off to do something really good.
I wished I’d already put on my helmet as my head bounced off the roof of Nathan Kingerlee’s 4×4 as he navigated up the donkey track into Hag’s Glen and our starting point in the shadow of Carrauntoohil. As the four of us stumbled about in the dawn, checking gear and donning freezing boots, it seemed a long way from drinking beers on the train down from Dublin the night before. The cold dawn washed away any grogginess from the booze and the hike to the foot of Howling Ridge drew a good sweat.
The views had already opened up before us as we got the gear sorted on a broad ledge at the base of the route. Below us, Lough Gouragh and Lough Callee were icy calm. It is told that a hag (which in fact meant a wise woman in those days) spent her life on the tiny island on Lough Callee in ancient times, hence the Glen’s name.
While the levels of snow and ice on the day of our climb couldn’t have been called true winter conditions, we didn’t feel out of place with our crampons and ice axes on the ledge. The first pitch of scrambling confirmed that, without them, we would have struggled badly. The snow wasn’t deep but it consistently covered every surface. Complete trust in your crampons points was required.
Ahead of us was about 400 vertical metres of climbing. If you rope most of the ridge it is approximately eight pitches with natural breaks occurring at decent sized platforms. Regarded as one of Ireland’s finest mountaineering routes, if not the finest, it is a combination of scrambling and climbing.
In dry summer conditions, the ridge is graded at a straightforward V Diff (very difficult). However, loose rock, exposure and the level of commitment make it an extremely serious day out, only to be attempted by experienced and knowledgeable mountaineers, or with their guidance. The consequence of simple mistakes on this route have varied from extremely serous and fatal. It has taken people between 20 minutes and eight hours to climb.
In proper winter conditions it is a Grade 2 to Grade 3 winter climb. There was relatively little ice on the route the day we tackled it but having been on a few easy routes in the Alps, it was plenty technical for me, and the level of exposure was impressive at times.
Pitching up
We climbed in conservative style. Nathan led each pitch and put in protection along the way. The three of us followed maintaining a tight rope between us as Nathan belayed from the top. I have to admit, progress was not rapid but it was steady and we climbed without incident. However, not all the gear survived. It’s amazing how fast you’ll duck at the sound of an ice axe bouncing down the rocks towards you. Luckily for me, it sailed harmlessly off into a gully and, surprisingly, was recovered a few weeks later by other climbers on the route.
The cloud and mist swirled around us and only occasionally gave us a glimpse of the magnificent views, but the wind held off and the below-freezing temperatures never really became a problem.
The sense of isolation was magnificent and the airiness of some of the ledges felt genuinely alpine. Looking back down the route heightened this feeling as snow covered everything in sight.
We spent six hours on the route. It felt like three. Clambering to the summit of Carrauntoohil we patted each other on the back. Tired, we fuelled up on leftovers from our packs and headed off towards our exit route down the Devil’s Ladder in the gathering gloom.
As we tramped out though the glen our head torches bounced their light along the rough track. It must have been ten hours since we left the house that morning and at that stage I felt every step. The isolation of our little group in the pitch black Glen was a fitting end to the day. I was pleased when the beam of my torch finally picked out the big shiny jeep sitting in the middle of nowhere. I decided to keep my helmet on for the drive back down – we were in a hurry for a few medicinal pints.
The history
Howling Ridge was first climbed just over 20 years ago in February 1987 by two local climbers, Con Moriarty and John Cronin, in winter conditions. Moriarty who led the climb, was an experienced mountaineer who four years previously had made the first ascent of Primroses Ridge – the hardest route up Carrauntoohill. He had just recently returned from a winter climbing expedition to Scotland and wanted to prove that challenging ice climbing could also be found in Ireland in the right weather.
The route get its name from Moriarty’s husky dog, Grimsel, who waited at the Heavenly Gates howling while the pair completed the climb.
The route
Words: Nathan Kingerlee
Howling Ridge cuts up the north-east face of Carrauntoohil, just to the left of Primroses Ridge, which is the hardest route on the mountain and graded at VS (Very Severe) in summer climbing conditions.
Graded a straightforward V Diff (in summer conditions), the Howling Ridge climb begins at the Heavenly Gates, which is a narrow notch in the cliffs on this north-east face. It’s about 400m of scrambling and climbing on old red sandstone, and approximately eight pitches if you rope the entire route. The real challenges are loose rock, exposure and the level of commitment needed. There is no easy way out once you are some way into this climb. In proper winter conditions it’s a Grade 2 to Grade 3 winter climb.
Protection is generally just about OK and usually consists of slings around flakes and boulders. The first pitch is an easy steep scramble and leads to a plateau. The second pitch is nice V Diff climbing with one or two awkward moves. The ridge continues with steep little pitches, easier scrambling sections and plateaus. Generally the safest option is to stay on the crest of the ridge, where the rock is more solid.
We took a couple of detours, including the tricky traverse, with rope drag and huge exposure. We climbed onto the ‘Fingers’ which is a long narrow ridgy plateau with bits of rock jutting out to your right as you climb and stunning views far below and cliffs on both side. Here we veered out into a snowy gully, towards Primroses Ridge, to finish the climb.
Check out this video of the Ridge being tackled in summer conditions.
Other things to look out for
If you do this climb, the pinnacle of rock on your right all day is called Stumpa an tSnaimh which means Stump of the Sorrell. It is the beginning of Hag’s Tooth Ridge.
On the mountains opposite you, you’ll be able to see Lough Cummeenapeasta. An American DC3 transport plane crashed in this lake in December 1943 on its way from Morocco to Cornwall, killing the five crewmen on board. It’s still possible to see bits of the wreckage which were scattered on the surrounding mountainside and in the lake on sunny days.
Finally, although we didn’t see it, Ireland’s third highest mountain, Cather, or Cahair na Feinne, is thought to mean Fort of the Fianna, named after the legendary band of ancient warriors.
Howling Ridge
Dear Ed
I have just read your elaborate piece on Howling Ridge, complete with fine shots etc.
I am concerned because I think your presentation of the grade and overall guide and feel to the climb is misleading and in serious need of clarification.
I have extensive experience of this route over 20 years since sharing in the first ascent, in pretty much every weather condition.
In recent years, a certain kind of writing that is characteristic of your magazine has portrayed this climb as something of a mega-classic and with respect, I think this is somewhat overstated, notwithstanding the fine aspects of the route.
All of this means nothing to me – except that some people believe the information you present and the frivolous-sounding call to people to head to Kerry and tick this classic will lead to a lot of body bags coming out of Com Cailí without more responsibility.
The reality of Howling Ridge is that it’s not steep or hard enough to repel people who shouldn’t be on it, who lack the overall mountain skills and the sixth sense needed to be safe in this environment.
In recent years all kinds of individuals and parties have been venturing onto this great piece of mountain architecture, a wild and beautiful, but loose and committing place. All kinds of twisting and turning of the obstacles and the aesthetic line goes on among most parties. This capitalises on a certain weakness in the route, if you like, which means that the quality and grade of the climb can be pulled down some to meet people’s standards. The shenanigans have left some in these parts in little doubt that it’s only a matter of time before there’s a major accident on Howling Ridge.
Of course it’s a free world – but I believe that suggesting, without adequate qualification that the climb is a grade 2/3 winter climb and V.Diff in summer is seriously erroneous and grossly irresponsible, particularly in a magazine like yours that is not a serious mountain journal but rather a general adventure enthusiasts’ read.
My point here is that a V.Diff climber who frigs around in Dalkey Quarry with a full rack of gear and thinks Howling Ridge is just a lengthier extension of his outcrop exploits is in for some fright!
In recent years, this piece of Corrán Tuathail (along with Esic na bhFiach/Curved Gulley) has hosted epics where people completely out of their depth have been found in dreadful states of distress. There have been benightments and all kinds of terrifying adventures involving attempts at retreat. One young lad came flying off the climb while soloing, over the heads of his friends. (He was well able for the technical grade but sadly woefully inexperienced in marrying the technical grade to particularly treacherous snow conditions.) Another climber fell to his death at Céim an Fhia.
I also met a party on the ridge two years ago who were below the Finger after seven hours of climbing! No snow. They had spent hours frigging around looking for solid gear placements, belays, etc all the while exposed out of their heads and skins. The weather was comparable to a day when local man Mike Shea did the climb in a mere 22 minutes.
In the varied conditions, the grade of Howling Ridge also varies greatly and this makes it more difficult to guide people on it as there are so many route options.
Before Christmas recently, two fine Kerry mountaineers who are currently putting up new routes of extreme grades spend four hours on Howling Ridge – and these lads do not take four hours to scramble and climb 400m of a winter climb of 2 to 3!
I made the first ascent of the line in heavy spring snow conditions within a week of a lengthy period climbing in Scotland where my last climb was an ascent of Tower Ridge on Ben Nevis. I say this only because the outing on Corrán Tuathail felt harder at the time and I subjectively judged our climb a winter snow/ice grade IV. The route taken of course took the steepest line, taking head-on a number of steep and overhanging steps that are rarely climbed nowadays. Kerry is not Scotland of course and conditions vary incredibly. However, Howling Ridge needs to be portrayed as a III/IV winter climb – with added qualification on route detours.
The bottom line lads is…great to have all this profile for our mountains, but as has been my bitch for a long time to a magazine still brandishes the tag-line ‘Ireland’s Outdoor Magazine’, serious things demand responsibility.
You will not be treated kindly if such pieces serve to inspire a bunch of muppets to give Howling Ridge a go next weekend.
You have a responsibility to portray clearly the objective dangers involved in such a mountain route.
On a guided ascent (which by the way, I also do!), one is largely protected by the actions of your guide but this needs to be clearly signposted for anyone thinking of attempting the route by themselves. You present magnificent adventures to your readers but like a giant wave, these ‘playgrounds’ will treat you savagely if you fuck up. And scraping bits and pieces of people from the bottom of a thousand foot fall indelibly imprints this on one’s brain.
I’d love to hear everything that you know about this topic. You just have scraped the surface of your respective awareness about this which is clear from the way you write. Have you thought about dedicating a complete website to ensure that others won’t overlook what you have to say?