Near New Radnor is a precipice down which Cliffe (1854) mentions that a gentleman rode, and he also records that another climbed the fall called Waterbreakitsneck.
IRELAND
Introduction.—Climbing in Ireland, in the sense in which it is understood in Switzerland, is, of course, unknown, although during a winter of happily rare occurrence, such as that of 1894-5, abundant snow and ice-slope work is no doubt obtainable. It would be accompanied, however, by extreme cold and days of too short a duration for work.
Nor can Ireland boast of such arenas for cliff-climbing as the Lake District, or the Cuchullins in Skye. There is no Pillar Rock, no Old Man of Dearg. But there are ample opportunities for acquiring the art of mountain craft, the instinct which enables the pedestrian to guide himself alone from crest to crest, from ridge to ridge, with the least labour. He will learn how to plan out his course from the base of cliff or gully, marking each foot and hand grip with calm attention; and, knowing when to cease to attempt impossibilities, he will learn to trust in himself and acquire that most necessary of all climbers' acquirements a philosophic, contemplative calm in the presence of danger or difficult dilemmas. If the beginner is desirous of rock practice, or the practised hand requires to test his condition, or improve his form, there is many a rocky coast where the muscles and nerves and stamina can be trained to perfection. Kerry and Donegal are competent to form a skilled mountaineer out of any capable aspirant. Ice and snow craft is an accomplishment which must of course be acquired elsewhere.
Much of the best scenery in Ireland is available only to the mountaineer. Macgillicuddy's Reeks can hardly be appreciated in less than a week's exploration. Even after three weeks spent amongst them we have wished for more. Donegal alone requires lengthened attention, and there a much longer period will be profitably spent.
The climbing described in the following pages was chiefly undertaken with the object, or excuse, of botanical discovery. All the mountain experiences, except where the contrary is stated, represent the personal—usually the solitary—experiences of the writer. Of roped climbing the author has had no experience outside the Alps. Being tied up in a package and lowered from a cliff to a bird's nest, though not climbing, is, no doubt, a feat requiring nerve and dexterity; but when the nest of the raven, peregrine, or chough is in view, and ropes and companions are 'out of all ho,' and it appears improbable such a chance will come again, the eager naturalist will indeed rejoice that his nerve and dexterity are not wholly dependent on the comfortable security of a friendly cable round his waist. To the botanist such accomplishments are even more essential. A knowledge of rocks—what to trust, what to mistrust, what to attack vertically (such as granite and quartzose usually), what to deal with by their ledges (such as limestone often and sandstone still oftener), what to avoid altogether (such as trap, chalk, and decomposing basalt), a knowledge of the elementary principles of guidance under varying conditions of weather—can be gleaned from the mountain and sea coast cliffs in Ireland, not, perhaps, to such an extent as to produce an expert, but quite enough to lay the requisite groundwork of one. Form and condition, nerve and activity, will develop in company, and with them the love for the art will grow, and nothing beyond a little local education will be wanting to enable him to follow upon their arduous undertakings real proficients in mountain craft. Any words that can induce the skilled mountaineers of England and Scotland to test the merits of an Irish welcome, of Irish scenery, and of the bracing combination of Atlantic and mountain air in the western counties will have been written to good purpose.
Antrim.—The highest hills are Trostan (1,810 ft.) and Slieveanea (1,782 ft.) The formation is almost entirely trap or basalt, and there is no cliff-climbing, the rock being crumbly and unsafe. Around the coast there is a belt of cretaceous rocks, forming in some places, as at the Giant's Causeway (White Rocks) and at Fair Head, bold cliffs of chalk or rotten trap. On Fair Head, 640 ft. high, there is a magnificent view. Cyclopean columns of greenstone crown a talus always heavy on the Antrim cliffs, owing to their friable nature.
There is a fissure known as the Grey Man's Path on the west side of this Head, in the face of the cliff, by which it is possible to descend and inspect the foot of the columnar prisms.