And so he broke the horizon with his jolly red face, less jolly but enthusiastic white legs and his effusive delight. “What about ye” I fished for a more sophisticated southern response. “Sure are the Mourne Mountains not great?” he beamed. Indeed “sure” they are: you would be addressing an evangelist of course. “And where have you come from today?” I enquired rather dully. “We came from Muckish and here we are now”. Indeed? From Muckish? “How long did that take you?”. “Oh it would be and hour and a half. An hour and a half now.” An hour and a half from Muckish. In County Donegal. And here you are at the top of Slieve Bearnagh, County Down. “Ah ye oul sausage and did you leave the Harrier parked or just hovering?” Well y’know I didn’t actually say it. Muck is in the Mournes and seemingly less dirty than Errigal’s neighbour which is only Muck-ish. I’ll leave it to a droid to fix my Irish, but we know all or some of it is to do with pigs. Muck is odd and final, careering in a lollop on to the Silent Valley Road and as such, ending the sway of the Eastern and more ostentatious Mournes. Momentum takes you up on to Pigeon and other fairly shameful indulgences. But stay a while on the Hill of the Pig and soak in the completely breathtaking panoramas it punts. From Slemish in Co Antrim across Lough Neagh to the confident tableau that is Meelbeg through Donard and back to Binnian. Yes all of them in one lash. Loughshannagh dessicating below and routes off at every point, to untrod tracks to be trod. I expect a tent and a primus would be a very good thing. Muckish as a dustbin lid. Enjoy. Trackback: https://mountainviews.ie/summit/151/comment/2411/