The Lugmore ridge sits next to Mweelrea mountain and overlooks the Killary fjord. This hike would provide me with a flourish to complete my list of the 100 Local Mountains. It had all the necessary ingredients to make it a memorable finale to bring this challenge to an end in style. I had made a decision not to choose an easy climb but one that would test my fitness, skills and appealed to my imagination. The walk takes in the three summits of Ben Lugmore with its East and West Tops. The three peaks sit on the start at the eastern end of a long elongated S shaped ridge that narrows at some points to barely inches wide. On either side there are near vertical drops of more than 500 metres.

​

I had chosen a bold and demanding route. The ridge lies above the Great Corrie. On either side of the Corrie are buttresses. My planned route would see me ascend on the left, take the ridge walk and then descend on the right.  This was the most direct route to the top. The climb was a fierce one up the steep slopes of the left sided spur of the Great Corrie. My fitness was at a peak and I made good progress. I found a natural seat where I could park myself safely and take a break, drink some coffee and enjoy the beautiful views of the Doo Lough Valley with the surface of the lough sparkling in the sunlight.

 

I felt the thrill of adventure, the overwhelming sense of feeling at one with the world and the mountains. I had a heightened sense of being alive. I climbed further up the shoulder of the Corrie’s wing. The ground levelled out here and made the going a little easier. I was about 50 metres from the top of the ridge and the first summit, Ben Lugmore East Top.

​

I reached the top without too much struggle. This was summit number 98. The final two summits lay on the ridge ahead of me, another kilometre to negotiate. I made my way carefully over the ever narrowing path. The air began to cool and then the mist came in off the Atlantic. The weather was turning from the benign blue sky and sunshine of the morning to a cold and all enveloping grey mist. I crossed the ridge and reached summit number 99, Ben Lugmore. I looked down into the Great Corrie, a sheer drop into the abyss. I continued to pick my way carefully along the narrow path towards the final summit, Ben Lugmore West Top. 

​

On reaching my 100th, I whooped and I danced. This was a moment to savour. Then I took in the panorama of all the surrounding hills and mountains, the Mweelrea Mountains, the Sheefrey Hills, Joyce Country Mountains, the Partry Mountains, the Maumturks and the Connemara Bens. All were visible though the mist was gathering. This was a magical moment. I had stood on each and every summit I could see.  For those few precious moments, I no longer had to struggle with my Parkinson’s, I had conquered all odds and banished my condition. This was much more than just a day’s trek. I was not a tourist nor were the mountains a place I would only visit in my imagination.

​

All I had to do now was make my way down safely. The weather conditions had changed very rapidly and a thick mist enveloped my route of descent. Visibility was now less than a metre. I had planned a second and much safer descent route should the weather turn nasty. This was a wise precaution I had prepared for myself. The easier route added an extra ninety minutes trek back down to ground level.