Hitz Adventures: "The Real Old Mountain Dew" (Part 2 of 4)

I slept well last night in the hut behind the Dying Cow pub. They were partying late for a Sunday. I heard Irish drinking songs spilling out of the pub until the early morning hours. Seems almost stereotypical that a pub in the green hills of Ireland would be full of guys singing “Whiskey in the Jar” but that is what happened. I felt bad I did not engage, but I was thinking of my hiking enjoyment the following day and how a hangover would sink the experience.

I got on the road about 9am after a bowl of instant oatmeal, a shower and a coffee.

I started getting off the main roads this morning as I hiked up a hill. This would be the new trend. Hike up a hill and then down the other side with a stop at a river for a rest, then repeat. I like the below image. A sheep dog stood at-the-ready by the gate.

I was amazed by the hedges. I Imagined them as trenches and just how difficult it would be for an invading army to clear them and move forward.

I saw the below symbols in the road. I thought maybe it was a county marker or something interesting. Turns out it is just a water line access indicator, I do believe. I followed the trail downhill came to where it crossed a main road

I took a right on the road and walked into the town of Tinahely where I had the classic Irish breakfast at Murphy’s Pub

Not sure I could eat a variety of meats for breakfast each morning, but I was willing to give it a whirl at least once. And if you look closely you will notice there is a tomato on the plate. I stopped at a market to grab some fruit and found a different way back onto the trail. After a breakfast like that I was in need of a nap, so once I climbed back out of the valley, I stopped at the first ideal spot and dozed off for an hour

I was spending the night at a farmhouse outside the village of Moyne, but I did not need to arrive earlier than 3pm so I was taking my time. I casually strolled the next few hours, stopping for rest every couple miles.

About 200 Yards shy of the farmhouse a lady saw me and pulled her car over. She asked me if I was Darren, and said she owned the farmhouse and told me to get in so she could run me back up and drop me, so she could drive into town to pick up another couple. There were a few people staying there that night and they were all day hiking and having their bags shuttled up ahead for them. While she was in town picking them up (not sure why they couldn’t just hike to here) I hung out with the dog on the porch.

They were not serving dinner, but instead drove us into Tilhaney for a meal, and it turned out the only place open was Murphy’s Pub, the place I had breakfast earlier that morning. I sat at the bar, ate my meal and talked with locals a bit more about Irish history. I find the Irish to be quite social and talkative.

The next morning, I had another traditional breakfast. I figured I might not see another meal until dinner so get your money’s worth.

I had a nice conversation with this guy and his dog along the way

Hiked up and down through a pine forest and stopped at a bridge to take a nap and watched some dogs go nuts in the water.

While I was coming down to that river, I saw a path going up the next hill. It was a straight shot created for a telephone line. I figured the trail would take a different, meandering and more scenic route, but nope. It was just a slog up the hill. This was often the case. Not much imagination in these trails

Near the top I ran into a threesome of hikers from Germany. I said hello, but then walked on down the trail. About 30 seconds later one of them yelled to me, ‘That’s not the trail!” I shrugged my shoulders and walked back and followed them. We talked and hiked together for the next hour. At each intersection one guy would point out a yellow trail marker and say, ‘when you see this markers you know you are on the trail.” I was thinking, “I have been on the trail for a few days, I know what a trail marker looks like, what’s his deal?” Then I remembered I had just got lost a couple miles ago in front of them. I did not tell them I had ingested a bunch of edibles that morning and was just not really involved in the decision-making process anymore. I assume they thought I was an idiot and feared for my safety, but oh well. I was really feeling those edibles at this point. I pressed ahead and turned onto a logging road and just motored up the long steep hill like Forrest Gump on his walk along the USA

Unfortunately, that Forrest Gump magic dust did not last and I was getting tired and like Tom Hanks, I realized it was just time to stop walking. After a break at a shelter I was walking and looking down at my phone. What I usually do is look at the map and say something like, “There are 2 lefts and a right coming up.” Then I would put my map away until I covered that ground. Well, I looked at the map and saw like 3 or 4 turns and tried to remember them, but in the end I just stated that I was too high to remember all the turns and I am destined to get lost. I then looked around and was in the middle of a deforested lunar landscape. Where am I?

I eventually got back on track and headed down the next hill

At this point I was having some profound thoughts. I felt that when I was high I came up with some really interesting ideas, and maybe there are others that also experience this effect on THC. I thought about the movie, The Matrix, and how the story centers around this fake world invented by AI to keep us occupied while they harvest us. I thought that I could use that same idea with creative, stoned people. I could hire them to all sit in a room and come up with ideas while ingesting THC. Companies would hire me and my pot smoking pre-cogs and get advice on their products. A kind of think-tank. And the best part is I would not have to create this whole elaborate matrix to keep them occupied. I could just lock them in a room with a couch, endless supply of pot, a playstation 5 gaming console, and some Cheetos.

My next idea was about rocks. When I started the hike there was a pile of rocks and a sign said, “Leave your troubles here and enjoy the hike” Instead of leaving a rock, I picked one up because I really don’t have any troubles so I could carry someone else’s. I subsequently lost that rock but that is not important right now. So my idea is to create an app where people could leave a rock on a pile or pick up a rock, thereby picking up someones problems. You then leave that rock at another pile that is at least 2 miles from any other pile, or create your own. You would have your own rock avatar and you could watch it be transported around the world on the app. And you could help others along. Maybe when you came to a pile you could scroll through a list of peoples problems and select one that hits home for you. I know, it is a great idea and you want to steal it, but I already have the patent pending. I am sorry. Don’t worry I have many more ideas if you want to get in contact.

I started coming back to reality when I saw my destination for the evening in the distance

I arrived in Glanmalure and checked into my room at the lodge

I had a couple beers on the patio, listening to young girls take about everyday life in Ireland. I was smiling hearing the difference between them and US kids, then I realized I looked creepy and went off and sat by myself. I saw a table of about 12 men and women in their 70s, enjoying a beer after a day hiking. That is something you would not see in the US. They were all locals, just showing up for drinks and conversation. What the fit Europeans must think of our disgusting population across the pond.

A few tour groups were stopping at this lodge/pub. I guess it is pretty old. Another funny observation. They were Americans, and all taking about the green fields they saw, filled with cattle and sheep. Even getting out to pet some. They then all proceeded to order the lamb. I thought; there are 2 types of people in the world. Those that interact with a harmless cute lamb and think, “ I need to become a vegetarian.” And those that spend the day doing the same thing, but think, “I cant wait to eat one of these tonight for dinner.”

I had a salad that night, but I am no saint…yet.