Sliabh Liag: We Did It!

 

When we last visited Ireland in 2019, there were two hikes we had hoped to complete but couldn’t: Benbulbin and Sliabh Liag (Slieve League). Persistent rain prevented us from even attempting Benbulbin, and although we completed several miles of the Sliabh Liag hike, we turned back when fierce gales made it nearly impossible to stay upright. This time, we returned determined and succeeded in hiking both.

Sliabh Liag rises nearly 2000 feet above the Atlantic Ocean, making it the highest accessible sea cliffs in Europe. There are two approaches to the Bunglas viewing point: a moderate 2 km. walk up from the lower car park via a paved road and groomed gravel and stone-stepped trail, or the longer, more rugged Pilgrim Path. The lower car park is situated south of the cliffs, while the Pilgrim Path trailhead lies to the east, outside the towns of Teelin and Carrick. The two routes are linked by One Man’s Pass — a narrow, quarter-mile path that crosses the ridged peaks. We planned to complete the challenging 7-mile loop, starting with the Pilgrim Path. We chose a day with a forecast of clouds and possible light rain, but crucially, only light winds. This hike should not be attempted in poor weather.

The trail begins as a rocky road with a moderate incline, with a waterfall and several monuments along the way. The path gradually becomes rougher, resembling a washed-out stream bed.

 

 

 

About 1.25 miles in, the Pilgrim Path transforms into a steeper rocky trail that climbs the mountainside. While strenuous, the path is well-marked with stable footing and no sheer drop-offs.

Around the two-mile mark, we reached the stone ruins of an early Christian monastic site, including a chapel and beehive hut, where monks once sought solitude and spiritual connection. This area, known as a “Mass Rock,” was a hidden place of worship for local Catholics during the 18th and 19th centuries, when English Penal laws forbade their faith. The trail continues beyond the left side of the pilgrimage site. At the top, it turns left toward the peaks.

We soon arrived at the spot where, years ago, we had to turn back. The wind picked up, but this time it was manageable, so we pressed on. For a stretch, the trail remained narrow but easily walkable, with adequate space on either side and firm footing. Then suddenly it changed. We abruptly came to a daunting section with a massive rock that one must somehow shimmy around, with a sheer drop below. 

That was our line. The decision was made for us — we had to turn around. We’re hikers, not climbers or daredevils. We knew we needed another way across if we were to complete the loop.

Fortunately, there are alternate routes. After scouting the terrain, we located an unmarked path slightly below the ridgeline. This route was not easy—mostly rock scrambling with the peaks rising on one side and the mountainside dropping on the other. 

The way to complete anything that seems very difficult is one step at a time — just focus on the task at hand, nothing else, not what’s up ahead or what has passed. 

We moved slowly, but on this east side of the ridge, we were sheltered from the wind, and the rain held off until we neared the end of One Man’s Pass.

As we rounded the final bend, the winds picked up significantly and we were enveloped in a foggy mist. But the hardest part was behind us.

 

The rest of the hike felt anti-climactic. The Bunglas viewpoint offers dramatic vistas of the cliffs plunging into the sea, but the real reward was knowing that we had finally traversed those peaks.

From the viewpoint, we descended via the groomed trail used by most visitors to the site.

One delightful surprise awaited us on the descent — we came across a British couple that we had met the previous day while hillwalking in Glencolumbkille. They were also on holiday, visiting many of the same areas of Ireland as us, only in reverse order. The chance meeting was a reminder of how small the world can feel, even when far from home.

After chatting with them for a while, we continued down the paved road to the lower car park, then along local roads back to our car. We were treated to sweeping views of the mountain’s landward side — its distinctive peaks rising above green pastures dotted with grazing sheep. Looking up at them, we smiled, saying “we did that.”