Updated This might hurt

Like 1950s dentistry, my pursuit of the Vandeleur-Lynams over 30 years is rarely elegant and sometimes painful. I knew that eventually I would have to climb Stumpa a’ tSaimh. This hill had tortured my dreams. Sadly, my grumbling chums stayed in Kildare, while I ventured to Cronin’s yard. I slept fitfully through an impressive lightening storm, witnessing the gods throwing bolts around the Reeks. Being what the Scots call a “Feartie”, I arranged for Richard, a local to help me. The rain was easing, but the Hags glen remained clagged in as we set off up the Com road. We cut right on the trail, as if making for O’Shea’s gully. The track took us under the confusingly named Hag’s tooth (543m). What is it with the limited use of names on our hills? The Hag seems to have been blessed by some magical dentistry, because there are multiple incisors, canines and molars all over Kerry. It was the other “Tooth” I wanted. We pressed on, Richard striding purposefully forward, me doing my best to keep up. Beyond Glaise Fhionnchom, we turned right (point D) onto a vague grassy track NW up what is known locally as Green/Holly tree gully- what Simon3 describes as “One way up”. The steep and grassy path meandered between the rocks, ascending to the shattered fragments of the real Tooth- Stumpa a’ tSaimh. This was tough but the rain had stopped, the wind was much reduced, and the clouds were breaking.
As the slope eased, we did a “Kerry contour” (ie an ascent on slightly less rocky ground) to the NE of the tower and worked our way up to an airy vantage point just West of the final summit and which fell away steeply North. A short corridor took us to the base of summit proper. Here Richard talked me up the short, but exposed scramble until my hands at least could tap the top. The small patch of summit grass was sodden, and the wind noticeable enough to make me wish I had worn darker trousers. Reader, I didn’t stand on the occlusal surface-I remained a “Feartie”, but I don’t care. I still have a handful of VLs to do and I intend to be around to do them. Again, Richard guided me on the short but exposed descent of the distal surface, and we admired Brother O’Shea’s gully and the impressive, but lesser known East ridge of Beenkeeragh. In an adrenaline-fueled haze, we ambled into the Fionnchom bowl, South of Knockbrinnea. It was only midday, so we had lunch in good sunshine on some convenient boulders, watched by the impassive sheep. A lovely descent (Simon & Jackill’s other route) took us down the canyon of Glaise Fhionnchom. I was elated as we hit the trail after some boggy interludes and retraced our steps to Cronin’s yard. There I reflected on irrational fears of scrambling. All had been forgotten in good company. Yes, it was sodden under foot, and windier than I’d have liked, but like a trip to the dentist it was less frightening than I’d imagined, and I was better for the visit. Linkback: mountainviews.ie/summit/193/comment/24204/

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