Today we take an iconic hike in Ireland. The “stairway to heaven” or cuilcagh boardwalk trail is in county Fermanagh. It is just over the border into Northern Ireland and about twenty minutes from our rented farmhouse.

I have been waiting to do this hike the whole trip. I waited until our kids arrived because they said they wanted to hike. I hope they meant it because this one can be difficult. The trail is at least nine miles (if you can find parking near the trail head). We had to park at least another mile further away.

It is cloudy as we start the walk, but that only provides a dramatic backdrop for our adventure. We start out through a parking lot and then climb a stile to enter a cow pasture. I have to watch where I step. Although we see lots of evidence of cows, I never actually see them. This is ok by me. Getting chased by a bull is not my idea of a good time.

A few miles in we cross babbling brooks and climb gentle rolling hills. Sheep appear. They are content to munch reeds and shrubbery along the trail. Occasionally they block our progress. But hey, they live hear. I am just a visitor. The views are stunning.

After about four miles my husband turns back and a boardwalk begins. The famed boardwalk is uneven and exposed. It winds for what seems like forever across the bog. The boards tilt and the strong breeze makes walking a challenge. I am thankful for my hiking poles. I smile as I compare my idyllic fantasy of walking this boardwalk with the harsh reality.

Just when I think I am done with the subtle torture of the boardwalk, the stairway to heaven appears. The last section of the trail is made up of hundreds of stairs that will take me up the mountain. .. but only if my legs cooperate. I take a deep breath and head upwards.

I can see my daughter and son in law ahead. I stop to take photos and to catch my breath at each section wide enough to stop. As I pass people coming down, I remind myself that I can do this. I feel out of shape, even though I have walked miles each day. But this is different. This feels primal.

Eventually, I make it to the top. We take a celebratory group photo. I am not sure if my son in law is happy to be here or if he wants to kill me. But I am basking in the moment of accomplishment and connection. I climbed a mountain.

As we are resting, the sheep begin to move and the sky grows dark. A storm is coming. Suddenly, it seems important to get off the mountain with its exposed rock. I also don’t want to have to navigate the boardwalk in high winds and rain. My calves can’t take much more today.

So we walk on. And then we walk some more. The air is charged and the fresh smell of earth and rain is magical. I forget my jelly legs and just bask in the beauty of the moment.

Once we are off the cursed boardwalk and back on solid ground it starts to rain. I dig out my raincoat and umbrella. But it is so windy, the rain comes at us sideways. I knew I should have packed my rain pants. We are now soaked and cold. We walk on …..and on.

Finally, I see the parking lot. My husband greets us as we return to the car. It is warm and toasty inside where he has been watching and waiting.

We decide to drive to Belcoo and find a pub because our daughter wants fish and chips. It seems like a great idea. We need to refuel and celebrate the day we conquered Cuilcagh.

The local pub is friendly and the food is good. We laugh and eat. I say “we should do this more often.” My son in law says. “Yes but maybe we should have a four mile limit on each outing.” I think to myself that whatever it takes to keep the family hiking together is okay by me. Inside, I know I would hike this mountain again and again. It has found a place in my heart.