Meeting Apu Carrauntoohil

We Came, We Saw, We Conquered…?

Actually, We answered to the call, we were welcomed, we connected!

Apu Carrauntoohil

Last weekend, I heeded my inner voice (my seed) guiding me and embarked on a journey to Kerry, to reconnect with my old friend Carrauntoohil, the tallest mountain in Ireland.  My previous attempt at reaching the peak in August 2020, had fallen short as I only made it to the foot of the Devil's Ladder. 

Various circumstances, such as taking a detour through the Gap of Dunloe and experiencing discomfort from my new hiking boots, all conspired against me.  However I did enjoy my first visit there immensely, but knew I was going to have to dig deep to go back for the full experience.

Perhaps it was fate or the mountain's spirit, suggesting that I needed to wait and return when the time was right.  Nonetheless, during that initial encounter, I acquired a sacred stone, (Andean term Khuya - an object filled with passion), to maintain a connection with the mountain, which I preserved through my Misha.

Often, when drawn to sacred places, I find myself unprepared to fully embrace their energy.  A similar occurrence took place with Skellig Michael, where it took me nine years before I could finally reach the island and make my pilgrimage. It appears that I must undergo an energetic preparation before being invited into these sacred spaces.  One of my teachers (Elizabeth) often says, “Always ask first - you wouldn’t go into a persons house uninvited”.

Approaching the foot of the Devil’s Ladder

As we ventured through the Glen at the start of our hike, gentle rain, affectionately sent by Mama Unu, moistened my skin.  Embracing the notion that this was our quintessential Irish weather, I welcomed the mist.  Soon after, the clouds parted, and Tayta Inti emerged, granting respite from the rain for the rest of the day.  I noticed that with every step, the clouds receded, revealing the magnificent beauty of the mountain as we approached her base.

I made this journey with my American friend Jahmel. By the end of the trip, I was so grateful for his company and sure-footedness as my inner compass was knocked off kilter with the tiredness.

There were moments where anxiety consumed me as we approached sections of the climb that had previously evoked fear.  One such place was the stepping stones crossing a rapidly flowing stream.  Even though the stream was shallow, the fast flowing waters were disorientating. I watched a fellow hiker struggle to get across the last steps in the same predicament.  I knew the best thing to do was to get rid of some of this Hucha (heavy energy) building in me.  As we neared the first cairn—a mound of stones (akin to the Apachetas in Peru)—I picked up a stone.  With intent, I imbued it with my three powers and infused it with my hucha (my fears), before carefully placing it upon the cairn.  To my relief, this ritual seemed to assist me.  I took a deep breath and let out a yell as I bounded across the stepping stones, exhilarated crossing my first hurdle!

Climbing the Ladder

Interestingly, the part of the ascent that I had dreaded the most turned out to be the most enjoyable.  The Devil's Ladder, a steep ascent leading to the saddle, featured imposing rocks and boulders, amplified by the protuberant springs cascading from the recent rainfall. Figuring out the conundrum of best placement for my hands and feet, evoked memories of my childhood when I fervently climbed anything in sight.  I felt welcomed by Mama Wayra’s gentle wind blowing me gently into the rocks, it felt embracing and protective.   Sometimes the progress was smooth, while other times I had to exert myself to overcome huge boulders or lost my footing as the rocks gave way beneath me.  Nevertheless, I persisted.  I breathed.  I pulled myself up and pressed on.

Reaching the top of the saddle, we were rewarded with a magnificent view over the Macgillycuddy Reeks with astonishingly beautiful lakes set even higher in the valleys.  But there was more distance to go - the peak of Carrauntoohil was another 1km meander through zigzagging rocky paths hidden in the mists. By this stage most people were already on their way down.

Nearing the summit

I continued to gather stones and leave them on the cairns.  It became less about the intention of charging them with hucha, but more about gratitude for the beauty I was witnessing and the health of my body to physically get me there.

Finally reaching the summit, we were among a few last stragglers who had persevered to this point.  The mists lifted to what felt like just above our heads, just enough to take in the incredible vistas.

We finally had lunch at 5pm, just above the saddle. The food from my friend Tony’s cafe - Leafy Greens, was well worth the wait. Eating was exhausting at this stage, but we could feel the nourishment with every bite.

This journey was not so much about conquering the mountain. This seems to be a curse of our western minds - to set goals, to achieve personal bests, which always seems to overpower or overcome something.  As a Paqo, my intention was not to oppress, but to connect. I had brought with me a Khuya from Apu Machu Picchu, another sacred mountain I have a deep bond with.  I felt as if he was helping me on this journey and that he wanted to meet Carrauntoohil.  I took the stone from my pocket along with my original  stone from my trip n 2020, and placed them carefully on top of a cluster of embedded rocks looking south.  The two of them seemed pretty happy to be introduced to each other.

At the summit

I asked Jahmel to do a ceremony with me.  Karpay Ayni is an exchange of personal power, performed by placing hands on each other’s head.  It was very fitting as today was coronation day of King Charles - maybe before all the pomp, this ceremony had its links in nature too.

We drew the energetic cords from the power places we both had connected with in our lives, along with the power of Carrauntoohil and infused it with our personal power, delivering it by hand through each other’s crowns.  As the energy rushed through me, I felt the abiding fortitude of this Apu, who has stood here for eons, weathering time.

Our adventure wasn’t over yet. Not being a great one for following instructions, instead of leading us down another zig zag,  I lead us towards the grass, as I was tired of the firmness of the rocks under my feet.  We got lost, had to traverse a few marshes, turn back from some dangerous overhangs, but we eventually found the path back.  At the stepping stones, Jahmel, in his effort to escort my tired body across, lost his footing and waded knee deep with one foot while I tried to pull him back up. I thought it best to remain silent as his foot squelched and I stifled my giggles. With a few wet feet, worn out muscles, and after nine and a half hours, we finally made it back to Cronin’s Yard.

This unforgettable adventure reminded me that life is a landscape of valleys, peaks, troughs, marshes, and rivers - some to wade through, some to bound through.  There will always be moments of triumph, moments of struggle.  We continue moving forward, embracing the challenges that shape our journeys, knowing that each hardship and each joy both inform and transform. 

Thank you Carrauntoohil for this incredible encounter … until we meet again, dear friend.

You can see a short video of this journey on my Instagram here