after a long night of limping and hunting for food in a half-closed town, i ended up in a locals-only pub, got adopted by a guy named kevin who kept handing me guinness, and then caught the early bus back to dublin. there, i slipped some of my dad’s and bill’s ashes into the crypt at st. michan’s, swapped my heavy pack for lighter gear, saw friends, and heard live trad music — and decided it was time to get my wrecked leg checked before pushing on.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day six (~22 miles; ~103 total) hurt like hell — my left leg was blowing up, every step felt like a knife, and i still pushed to finish the wicklow way, score a secret pub pint, and get my completion certificate from an older couple who’ve been blessing hikers for decades. i limped into bunclody swollen, borderline broken, and made the call to bus back to dublin, drop weight, and face the fact that my body might be done, even if my head isn’t.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day five was tinahely: soaking wrecked legs, eating a full irish, and stumbling into this tiny wicklow village’s real heartbeat — a holy well tied to st. patrick where i left some of dad and bill’s ashes, and a rowdy pre-wedding pub night where strangers adopted me as “the yank.” i suppose i didn't rest much, yet i refilled everything that mattered.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day four (~21 miles; ~73 total) pushed me to my limit — no coffee, scarce water, and a grueling final descent into tinahely. between a fox at dawn, worms in my rainwater, and aching legs begging for mercy, i learned that sometimes survival looks like a hot soak, a burger, and a well-earned pint.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day three (~15 miles; ~52 total) was slower and social, then a crowded glendalough lunch before a long, less-scenic climb to an empty adirondack hut. i slept open to the night, visited by animals of varying sizes, and drifted off thinking about bill — his strength, the weight of what we couldn’t fix, and the small peace of some loving final words.
SERIES REPOST 2022: two grueling days and nearly forty miles in, the weight of my pack—mr. osprey—felt heavier than ever. between endless climbs, slipping on trails, sharing laughs with fellow hikers, scattering ashes for dad and bill, and stumbling upon a heavenly campsite just in time, i learned that exhaustion, luck, and small kindnesses all travel the same road.
SERIES REPOST 2022: day one of the coast-to-coast trek began at poolbeg lighthouse, adding nine miles through dublin before even reaching the wicklow way. a kind cab driver, a few lessons in irish hospitality, and my first night wild-camping marked a humbling, unforgettable start to the journey.
SERIES REPOST 2022: a reunion years in the making — i landed in dublin to stay with my old friend mick, whose chance meeting with my sister years ago sparked a lifelong friendship between our families. over pints, memories, and laughter, we remembered my dad and brother bill, and the book that first inspired this coast-to-coast walk across Ireland.
SERIES REPOST 2022: as a tribute to my dad, brother, and our shared love of Ireland, i attempt to solo hike 387-mile from Dublin to Dursey Island to honor their memory, celebrate movement, and raise funds for the Pulmonary Fibrosis Foundation. Along the way, I’m seeking connection with nature, my roots, and myself. Part 1 of 9.
