Thunder on the Twelve

Gazing across at the Maumturks and Lough Inagh from Bencorr in the Twelve Bens, Connemara.

In my three years in the Galway Walking Club, I’ve never been caught out in a thunder storm. Until Sunday. There wasn’t much to do except hunker down and wait for it to pass. The sound was amazing – each clap of thunder exploded over the Maamturks a mile or two away, and then rolled across the sky over our heads and out to sea.

The morning started out so well. The sky was clear and blue, and it was warm enough to put the top of the car down at 7 am. Six of us were planning to repeat a great walk from last year – a loop of some of the Twelve Bens in Connemara – starting with Derryclare (Binn Dhoire Chláir – 600 metres), then Bencorr (Binn Chorr – 711 metres), across to Bencollaghduff (Binn Dhubh – 696 metres), then Benbreen (Binn Bhraoin – 691 metres), then after dropping down to 470 metres, back up to Bengower (Binn Gabhair – 664 metres) and finally (dear God, finally!) Benlettery (Binn Leitir – 577 metres) and back down to the Benlettery hostel that marked the end of the walk. It’s a long haul – Sunday’s walk took us 9 and a half hours – but you’ll do well to find better views in Connemara.

Thunder rolls across the sky as members of the Galway Walking Club head for Benbreen in the Twelve Bens, Connemara.

In fact, for the first two hours, the main worry was that it would be too hot. But as the morning progressed, the occasional cloud provided some shade, and by late afternoon, a wall of black cloud rolled across from Lough Corrib and the storm began. Well, it was more sound than light – I only saw a few flashes of lightning, and the torrential rain somehow managed to fall on every hill except the ones we were on. I made a point of putting a little distance between myself and the others carrying lightning conductors walking poles. Thirty minutes later, the skies were clear again.

We met a few people along the way, including a couple who were running around the loop. More power to them, though the sight of the guy carrying the supplies for both of them caused some muttering in our group [that’s the problem with chivalry – it just raises the bar for everyone else]. We also met Angry from Antwerp, who had been abandoned by the rest of his group (they’d given up and turned back – one of them had apparently the temerity to point out that there was a beautiful girl staying in the hostel, so why should they be wasting time on the hills).

Last stop – the cairn at Bennlettery in the Twelve Bens mountains in Connemara.

And so, having started at 8.30 in sunshine, we reached the car again just after six, put the top down, and headed for home.