Did St Patrick really survive 40 days and 40 nights on the Reek? Banish the doubts. He did, even without the aid of GoreTex, freeze-dried foods and mobile phone links, according to Mayo artist-in-residence, Chris Doris.
And no one should know better. For this evening Doris is due to descend from the Mayo mountain after a similar sojourn, and will be offered a dirty black pint in Campbell's pub in Murrisk. He may take it, even though he doesn't normally drink.
County councillors, members of the Achill Pipe Band, John Maughan, recently retired Mayo Gaelic football manager, staff in the council's arts office and many others involved with the project will be there to greet him.
Campbell's pub provided the vital link in the chain of support that allowed the artist to survive on top of Croagh Patrick since late July. It dispatched post and free bottles of water and other supplies, and became base station for the whole venture.
Born in Surrey, England, in 1962, Doris is a painter, draughtsman and monoprinter who has won many awards, and has striven to find new contexts and forums for expression. A graduate of the Dun Laoghaire School of Art and Design, he organised a display of 10 artists' work on Dublin city-centre billboard sites in 1987.
In 1989 his first exhibition of icons and monoprints was staged at the Royal Hospital Kilmain ham, Dublin. The following year he went to India, and returned in the 1990s to train as a meditation preceptor of the Sahaj Marg meditation system. He has also trained as a professional healer.
Now based in Lacken, north Mayo, with his wife, Rachel, and sons, Rian (3) and Caelan (1 1/2), he has initiated a series of arts events and held the first of several residencies sponsored by Mayo County Council in 1994. Last year he exhibited in the Model Arts Centre in Sligo, while his latest show, entitled Unearth, was held in The Linenhall, Castlebar, Co Mayo.
The day after he comes down from the mountain, he is due to travel to Dublin; later in the week, Unearth is to open in the RHA.
Doris envisaged his 40-day-and-night experience on Croagh Patrick as a "social sculpture", and the location was not chosen for its isolation. Far from that; he has met almost 1,500 of an estimated 6,000 people who have climbed the holy mountain since he pitched his tent there on July 28th, having ascended himself with the assistance of three donkeys and a jennet to carry his gear.
His work in the communion room of the oratory - granted with the permission of the parish - was interspersed with "acting as a tour guide and administering first aid". He was amazed by the number of people who have reached the summit cold, wet and injured, after setting out with unsuitable shoes and clothing.
"Doling out tea and rescue remedies became a part of every day," he says.
While the first week was blessed with good weather, the second half of the residency was pretty tough. "Some 20 of 35 days so far have been marked by mist and rain," he told The Irish Times last week. The previous night, he had caught a magical sunset above the clouds, but glimpses of Clew Bay have been few and far between. Damp has been the greatest physical challenge; he is constantly wet, but for all that, he hasn't got sick.
He did his research, however. Jamie Young of the Little Killary Adventure Centre advised him to stick religiously to two things: personal hygiene and a routine. His own meditation practice has also helped him on this latest stage in his personal journey, which he says he embarked on some 10 years ago when he began "mapping perceptions" that arose in his spiritual practice.
The artist has kept a visitors' book - "as much a record of the weather as of those who climbed, because the state of the writing reflects the conditions on the day" - and has also recorded interviews which may form the basis of a radio documentary. He has been busy painting, and completed over 120 works, including a series of abstracts based on the regularity of pilgrims' movements and the weather.
His wife has climbed to see him three times, and has brought the children twice - Caelan on her back, while Rian strode up unaided. John Maughan came up once a week to check him out, and staff with the council's arts office hauled up water and other supplies regularly. He has had many other visitors, and has been struck by the generosity he has experienced.
Two young lads brought him up eight chicken wings in sauce, wrapped in tin foil; one young lad with a broken heart came up to share a bottle of whiskey with him; he has received bags of apples, sweets and newspaper cuttings; and one of the most touching gifts was a worn scapular and medal, which someone tied to his tent before he woke up.
