AN TURAS BEAG:They might call it An Turas Beag, but a 50k m circuit around and over Ireland's highest mountain range on foot, bicycle and by kayak is no mean feat. But the exhaustion is more than countered by the surge of elation at having finished it, writes Harry McGee
WE APPROACHED the massive iron cross at the summit of Carrauntoohill. I touched it. We had reached the highest point in Ireland. It was an amazing day, the kind that drives you into the high mountains in the first place. There were big forever views of sea, lakes, plains and mountains at every point of the compass. Earlier we passed bluebells that pulsed like neon on the forest floor and caught the sharp scent of wild garlic.
And the time we allowed ourselves to linger to take all this in? Zero. After touching the cross and taking in one long, painful gulp of air we were off running again, me trailing after my stronger team-mate, Brendan O'Brien, along the narrow ridge to Ben Keeragh to the north.
By the time we had reached the top of Carrauntoohill at noon, we were already more than five hours on the go, a little over halfway through an eight-hour ordeal. It had all begun at 7am, when 150 people had stood on a patch of soggy bog above Beaufort and watched Michael Healy Rae fire off a shotgun to signal the start. It finished almost at the same spot (for us, at about 3pm) after the completion of a 50km circuit around and over Ireland's highest mountain range by foot, pedal and paddle.
The event, An Turas Beag, began with an energy-sapping trail run over seven kilometres of rough moors and through forest and rhododendron; continued with an eight-kilometre kayak paddle up the Upper Lake of Killarney; followed by a 10km road run through the remote splendours of Black Valley. The first half of the race finished with a sharp climb up a 200m ridge to a lake.
If you had not reached that point after four hours, you were sent up the back of the Devil's Ladder and so were forced to avoid the high mountains. For many of those (like me) doing the race for the first time, this was the critical test and the biggest fear was failing to make the cut-off point in time.
The reward for making the cut-off was a steep, calf-tearing climb over the three highest mountains in Ireland: Caher, Carrauntoohill, and then a traverse of a vertigo-inducing ridge to Ben Keeragh over harsh relentless terrain. It finished with a 100m vertical abseil down a spectacular outcrop called the Hag's Tooth. The final leg involved a mountain bike stage over Strickeen, a mini-mountain that was a killer to get over, and a rough but exhilarating zig-zag descent on the far side that fully tested the front suspension of the bikes.
It was a warm (if not crucifying) day, and though every part of it was tough going, the exhaustion was more than countered by a surge of elation at having finished it. I had trained for it and love the mountains and outdoor activities, but was really nervous beforehand as to whether I could hack it. In the event, there was no point during the race when I felt I didn't want to be there. The moment I finished, I was thinking of the next adventure race.
The actual winner, the teak-tough all-rounder Peter O'Farrell, zoomed through the course in 5¾ hours. For my team-mate, Brendan O'Brien (whose team finished second the previous year), it was like a training spin. Still, we were the ninth team to finish, which wasn't too bad given that our Canadian canoe looked like a Viking longship compared to the slick sea kayaks of our rivals and I got a puncture on my bike in the Hag's Glen, which cost us about 20 minutes.
In adventure racing terms, An Turas Beag was only a gentle introductory jog, and the Turas proper starts today. The world's top adventure racing teams, including New Zealand's Team Orion, are competing for a prize fund of €150,000. Even a cursory look at what it involves induces fatigue: 650km over five days, or 130km a day.
Attracting the World Series Race to Ireland is a major coup for a small Irish team, which includes race director Con Moriarty, a rangy mountaineer, Kerry to his core, and with a larger-than-life personality. He has been the driving force, though he has no interest in racing itself. "The fellows taking part are so focused on the race that they could be running around a car park for five days," he says.
But his interest is in the huge potential the race has for his own passion, tourism - in getting people to engage with the landscape, the wilderness, the culture, the archaeology, history, language, communities and music. All of his energy has been thrown into designing the route that takes the athletes from Dingle to Schull to Sheep's Head to Beara and on to his own Iveragh peninsula.
"I feel no connection with competitors' racing mentality. What I am more interested in is the amazing journey that they will take, the aesthetic beauty of the land, the communities along the way, the amazing archaeology, wildlife and flora.
"The course has been designed to take you to the most amazing places. Essentially we have been talking about the development of rural and adventure tourism for years, but we did not have a critical amount of people who were aware.
"This might be the thing that sparks a new awakening. There's a lot of darkness in relation to access and a polarisation between farmer and walker in terms of access. We have let it fester. We want to launch and present it as a holistic event that involves all communities.
"I have a lifelong dedication to rural, heritage, cultural and outdoor tourism of which adventure racing is just a part."