East Strand

Chased away by the tide

OK, so it's not strictly hiking and we didn't load up with backpacks and things, but there were hills involved, if you count sandhills!

Leo is a Jawa

It was fantastic! The wind tried it's very best to blow our heads off, it crept down the back of our necks, blew sand into our eyes, did everything in its power to turf Leo into the sea and flung a handful of rain at us. But it didn't make us turn back! Today we braved the Northern Irish Summer to walk up and down Portrush East Strand  -described as " a magnificent, flat, gently shelving beach which runs from Portrush to the White Rocks and is approximately 2 miles long. A beautiful walk in any weather." 

See? We climbed up a hill....

The kids started out enthusiastically. I had prepared individual check-lists to keep them entertained(thanks for the idea Jonathan!) and was brilliant for 15 minutes 'til they had everything ticked off - next time I'll make longer lists! Leo had to find: a dog, an old man, a Jellyfish, a white pebble, a feather, a sandhill and a shell. The older 2 also had to find: a cave, a seagull, a windsurfer, a child in the sea and somebody getting wet. Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

Leo got a lift again

Frozen on the Beach

The kids climbed sandhills and rolled back down them (Rowan brought half the beach home in his hair); they hid from a shower in the White Rocks caves; they squealed as the tide chased them out of the sea. It was cold but it was fun. Leo's little legs carried him three and a half miles but couldn't manage the last half mile and, inevitably, he ended up on Daddy's back again.
We had a Norn-Irish-style picnic in the car in the carpark (we're just not fool hardy enough to eat sand sandwiches or to have to sit on the picnic blanket so it doesn't blow away). And as all good trips to the port deserve, a spin on the Cyclone in Barry's and a stick of rock.

Rained off

Mother Duck and her 3 little ducks just
couldn't be bothered this week.

And once again, the award for the most miserable, wet Saturday goes to ... Northern Ireland.Not only have we been rained off the hills but even the 'North West 200' had to be called off due to bad weather and an oil spill. Disappointing all round really.
At present, Gina and I are snuggled up in the warm, dry house watching 'Little Women' and eating popcorn. We have no desires to leave the centrally-heated sitting room and expose ourselves to unnecessary misery on a hill-top.  So, unless there is a miracle overnight and the ground dries up, we are calling off the hike this week. :((
I found this great poem by The Innovatives and thought I would share... 

Wet Walking

soaking-wet-dot-com

   It has rained all week - big, fat, unexpected showers that  loiter inside swollen clouds and wait until you step out of the house so they can attack.  I am not amused; I want to go outside and cut the grass and listen to the children squealing on the trampoline. Instead I have been forced to tackle the critical housework situation and listen to Gina practice the piano over and over and over again for her exam on Thursday. Hmm.
Well, you can't live in Northern Ireland for (nearly) 40 years without learning how to walk in rain. I was taught from an early age to never trust the Irish weather; even if you get up in the morning and the sun is splitting the trees, you must take your coat with you; if you've got sunburn, sunstroke and singed eyebrows from the very heat of the sun don't trust it - take your coat, you'll need it... Oh yes, been there, done that. We are practically born with wellies and raincoats on us in Northern Ireland - just incase.
So this week's hike was always going to take place in the rain. Anybody who has taken young children out for the day knows that it is essential to be prepared for just about every eventuality. Given last week's fiasco where Leo fell into the river and we had no change of clothes for him, I vowed not to be caught out again and filled the car boot with dry clothes for everybody, the quintessential raincoats, waterproof walking shoes + dry shoes (for not dirtying my car on the way home) and (very important) plastic bags to put the wet stuff into. Our picnics (to please Leo) were put into plastic freezer bags - maybe some day we'll get dry bags and rucksack liners but today was all about the humble plastic bag. We've also got walking poles (though this was really just to please the kids cause we don't usually need them!)
So with all that sorted, we just had to choose somewhere to go. There were several boxes to tick here:
1. Not too far or we'd end up carrying Leo
2. Not too steep or we'd end up carrying Rowan, Gina and Leo
3. Not open hillside today as we might need somewhere to hide from the (inevitable) downpour
4. Something interesting to look at or we'd lose the kid's interest
And the winner was......     
Banagher Glen & Forest
On paper it ticked all the boxes. Our little pocket book, "Northern Ireland. A Walking Guide" by Helen Fairbairn, described it as a series of tarmac lanes and forestry tracks, making it suitable for most of the family, taking you past a remote reservoir, an ancient oak woodland and a forestry plantation.

Leo smiles 'cause he got poor daddy to carry him. Again

And she was probably right, except that there are loads of directions to follow to ensure a wonderful, fulfilling walking experience - and we got lost. We didn't find the reservoir and we didn't even see the large snake-like monster called Lig-na-Paste which St Patrick is said to have imprisoned in the river and is there to this day. (Disappointing)

Gina on the Bluebell trail

Nevertheless, we did find a lovely uphill track framed by bluebells, sloping steeply into the forest. It was well maintained and had a pretty wooden fence which stopped the kids falling back down the hillside. However, it was too steep for Leo's little legs and he ended up being carried part of the way. Honestly, we got SOAKED! The forest didn't protect us from the sneaky sideways drizzle, but we figured out what hiking sticks are for - whacking overhanging branches so that the rain falls off them and onto the person behind you's head. I bet the hiking magazines don't tell you that!

3 happy, wet hikers

Gina's verdict: "Great. What's next?"
Rowan's: "Yeah that was pretty cool"
Leo's: "My legs are sore. My legs are sore. My legs are sore....."

Learning to Walk

Rowan, Leo, Gina at the foot of Slemish

We've decided that we need fresh air and excerise; the children are turning square-eyed from sitting behind the TV and my legs are seizing up from being curled up in front of a fire all winter.
So last week, in a moment of proactive parenting, we piled the children into the car and told them we were going on an adventure. As we pulled into the carpark at the bottom of Slemish Mountain, my youngest son Leo, who is only 4, gaped up towards the summit and prounounced it "awesome". After 2 hours of climbing, sliding, being blown about and scraped, he was calling it less flattering names but the rest of us were hooked.
Yesterday we went prepared. With proper walking boots, backpacks (they are learning from the start to carry their own waterproofs and water) and hiking sticks, we decided on Glenariff Forest Park in Cushendall. It has been described as "The Queen of the Antrim Glens"; a 5 mile walk that takes you along wooden walkways built into the cliff face;  past magnificent waterfalls; over rustic bridges which cross rocky gorges and through steep woodland full of the smell of wild garlic.

Leo pulls down the forest

At the start before Leo fell in

 Oh the joy of skipping, happy children, poking things with sticks and jumping across stepping stones in the river at the very start of the walk - until Leo fell in. And then I realised the flaw in my carefully laid plans - I didn't bring a change of clothes for the kids.
One hour later, having had no option other than to head back to Ballymena and buy new clothes for Leo, we made it past the starting point, round the bends and up the Glens and all the way back to the end.

Gina on the stepping stones

The kids (alright, me too...)found the steep bits really tough but there were so many waterfalls and pretty rivers to look at that we were distracted enough keep going.
Gina's verdict of the walk ; "That was brilliant. Where will we climb next?"
Leo was thrilled because he got to have a picnic but Rowan just wanted home to watch Dr Who at 6 o'clock. He's a work in progress!