Corryloughaphuil: Into the Heart of the Nephin Begs, Hidden Lakes and Forgotten Ruins
OSI
Few places in Ireland can match the wild beauty of the Nephin Begs, a point I've returned to many times in these blogs. Far from roads and well-trodden trails, this is a land of open horizons, quiet valleys and secluded lakes hidden among vast expanses of bog and heather. Today's walk to the twin lakes of Corryloughaphuil led deep into the heart of this rugged landscape, where the scenery unfolded gradually with every kilometre. Broad mountain vistas, winding streams, rich peatland colours and the still waters of the lakes combined to create a landscape that was both striking and tranquil. This was not a walk about reaching a summit, but rather about experiencing one of Ireland's most isolated and unspoilt mountain regions.
Photographed on the way to Letterkeen this morning, this old ruin in Srahmore sits beneath a magnificent oak tree, adding character and charm to an already beautiful landscape.
The trek really began at the Lough Avoher shelter, where I stopped for a while to dry out before continuing on into the Nephin Begs. It had been a wet morning on the hike in from the Letterkeen trailhead, with frequent showers and spells of heavy rain. I was hoping the forecast was right and that the rain would ease by midday. From the shelter, the route headed deeper into the wilderness along the Bangor Trail. After about a kilometre, I left the trail and turned left into the Bawnduff River valley. Following the overnight rain, the river was running high. Water pouring off the surrounding mountains had swollen the river, making the crossings more difficult than expected.
This waterfall on the Bawnduff River was photographed as the river flowed down from the surrounding mountains and through the valley.
A tributary rushes down from the hills, swollen by recent rain, before joining the dark waters of the Bawnduff below.
The plan was to push on into the heart of the mountains, cross over the Glennamong Spur, then turn left and make for the foot of the Corranabinnias. The terrain ahead looked challenging, with boggy ground stretching into the distance towards the hills. I wasn't quite sure what lay ahead, but that's all part of the experience in the Nephin Begs: vast open country, little sign of anyone else around, and a real sense of being out on your own.
From afar, the Corranabinnias looked spectacular as the sun sweeps across the mountains, casting light and shadow over the rugged landscape.
From the Glennamong Spur, the vast expanse of the Owenduff Valley opened out below me, and it was a view I never found easy to leave behind. I could happily have spent hours there with the camera, watching the changing light play across the bog and mountains, but the remoteness of the place was a reminder that it was best to keep moving. Before long, I reached the twin lakes. The first thing that caught my eye was the lake on the right. It was much larger than I had imagined, and I couldn't help but wonder if there were any fish lurking beneath its dark waters. I found myself thinking that I should have brought the rods along.
Looking Toward Achill Island from Glennamong, County Mayo
The Corranabinnia ridge forms part of the route taken by those walking the Glendahurk Loop, offering magnificent views across the surrounding hills and valleys.
Looking across Corryloughphuil Lake towards Slievemore and Croaghaun on Achill Island.
The setting was spectacular. Beyond the lakes, vast corries carved into the mountainside, their steep walls rising high above the water. I had previously traversed the Corranabinnia Ridge along its famous arête, but viewing it from this side was a different experience altogether. From there, the ridge looked even more dramatic, a reminder of just how rugged and impressive this mountain landscape really is. Before I knew it, it was time to leave Lough Corryloughaphuil and start the long walk back.
The corrie behind the smaller lake rises to the Glennamong Ridge, giving the landscape a real sense of scale.
Crossing the Glennamong Spur again and beginning the descent, I spotted what looked like the remains of an old farmstead down in the valley. Curious, and as it was in the general direction I was walking, I headed down for a closer look. It turned out to be the ruin of a house, with a beautiful mountain ash growing beside it. Hidden along the Bawnduff River and more than a kilometre from the Bangor Trail, it would be easy to pass by without ever knowing it was there. As I stood beside the ruins, taking a few shots, I found myself wondering about the people who once lived there. It's challenging enough to travel through this rugged landscape today with modern gear, never mind trying to build a life in such a remote place. Surrounded by mountains, bog and river, the old house felt far removed from the modern world. Looking at what remained, it was hard not to admire the people who once called it home.
The ruin, isolated against the vast landscape, gives a glimpse into a harsher way of life that once existed here.
A lone mountain ash stands guard beside the house, a silent sentinel watching over the valley.
Leaving the old ruin behind, I rejoined the Bangor Trail a few kilometres farther along the valley and continued back towards Letterkeen. With the rain now gone and the ground beginning to dry, the walk out passed quickly. Before long, the bothy and car park came back into view, bringing another day in the Nephin Begs to an end.
Once back on the Bangor Trail, I looked back over the ground I had covered, from the Glennamong Spur through the valley below. As the day drew to a close, the setting sun lit up the landscape with rich evening colour.
Looking back on the day, it was hard not to appreciate everything this landscape had to offer. From remote lakes and sweeping mountain views to hidden traces of the people who once lived there, the Nephin Begs had once again left a lasting impression. As I reached the car, tired but content, I knew it wouldn't be long before I returned.
The crown of Corranabinnia is aglow in the evening sunshine, bringing the day to a fitting close.