An Irishman's Diary

Our hill country is now at its most appealing - but beware of its fatal attractions

Our hill country is now at its most appealing - but beware of its fatal attractions. Winter is coming and and the hill country is at its most enticing. The first cold snap brings thousands off to the hills. Our first lungful of sub-zero air is icily invigorating. The muddy tracks now crunch satisfyingly beneath our feet.

Familiar rocks are resculpted with weird, frosty contours, while our otherwise dull stands of sitka spruce are transformed to dazzlingly white tapestries.

It's a winter wonderland, too good to miss. As soon as the snows dress the mountaintops, thousands will head, en famille, for the Wicklow or Mourne Mountains, while around the Christmas season it's a fair bet that the Carrauntuohill area in Kerry will take on the aspect of a giant, animated anthill.

All good, clean, healthy fun, of course, assuming that everybody comes back in one piece. Unfortunately, this is not always the case. Accidents happen in the hill country, and like terrorist attacks they always seem to occur when and where we least expect them. Hill-walkers come to grief more often on easy slopes, or during a descent, or very commonly in that moment of relaxation at the end of a hard climb. It's a sobering fact that in the past 12 months four hill-climbers never made the homeward journey from a simple day's outing in the Kerry mountains.

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Rush-hour traffic

But if the mountains are intrinsically dangerous, the obvious question is: why do so many people go on climbing, seemingly oblivious to the risks? The first reason is that mountain climbing is not statistically as dangerous as it seems. There are people who would be horrified at the thought of scaling Carrauntuohill and still think nothing of dodging across O'Connell Street, against the "red man", through rush-hour traffic. Given a choice I would opt for the mountains any day. Up there, the level of risk you wish to take is largely in your own hands.

In fact, as one of the organisers of a bi-annual charity climbing weekend, the most worrying time is not actually Saturday's climbs but Friday evening, when up to 200 participants battle to the event through the mayhem and madness referred to as the "weekend rush". Paradoxically, a death associated with such mountaineering weekends is most likely to occur on the roads. As is often said, the most dangerous part of any climb is the journey to the mountain foot.

Nevertheless, the aura of drama and romance associated with climbers choosing to battle with the unforgiving mountain terrain means there is inevitably much attention on the occasions when the mountain wins. The fact that mountain accidents are less common than, say, road accidents, only serves to heighten media interest when they do occur.

In the year 2000 - I have excluded 2001 because of the effects of the foot-and-mouth crisis on hill-walking - there were six deaths and 59 injuries on Irish mountains. In the same year on Scottish mountains, there were 42 deaths and 235 injuries; while on the mountains south of the Scottish Border, there are on average 30 deaths and 450 injuries a year.

The ever increasing interest in hill-walking inevitably leads to more call-outs for our mountain rescue teams. In the year 2000, they brought 162 people to safety from Irish mountains. These figures take no account of the real value of rescue services - the hundreds of thousands of hill-walkers and ramblers who safely visit our upland areas each year, secure in the knowledge that help is available if needed.

Extraordinary commitment

Despite the obvious and growing importance of their services, our mountain rescue workers operate on an entirely voluntary basis, giving the equivalent of about four unpaid working weeks a year. This is an extraordinary commitment to a task bringing little glamour, but much that is dangerous and physically demanding - to say nothing of the frustrating, fruitless, all-night "bastard searches" for people - safely tucked up in bed - who didn't bother to tell anyone they had got down safely.

The restless nature of the human spirit is likely to ensure an ever increasing workload for mountain rescue teams. The human condition is, after all, meaningful only in the context of continual quest.

Without this urge to push back the frontier of the possible, Everest could not have been conquered, European explorers would not have reached America and the lunar dusk would remain without footprints. We can rest assured that in time, every unclimbed mountain on our planet will be conquered, every cave system explored, every ocean bed visited. And when humans eventually settle on Mars, somebody will set about reaching that planet's highest point.

Spirit of adventure

This spirit of adventure lurks somewhere within us all. It finds expression in the successes of Amunsden and Hillary, in the failures of Mallory and Scott - and within every hill-walker who struggles bravely to reach even a modest summit.

But if you are seeking new challenges among the hills this winter, give our mountain rescue volunteers a break by making sure you are well equipped with food and warm clothing and that somebody knows where you are going and when you are due back.

And one other thing before you go: Remember that mountain rescue teams depend on voluntary funds for training and equipment. Just now cash is in particularly short supply and a contribution to your local rescue team would be especially welcome.

A full listing of all Ireland's mountain rescue teams is available at www.imra.ie