Black Valley Storm * (Background Story)
Somewhere off the map in the county of Kerry, on the wild Atlantic coast of Ireland, there is a crooked road that crosses the peninsula from one coast to the other. Some claim it is a shortcut, but I would add "But to where???!"
This "shortcut" is commonly known as the Black Valley Road. It's main claim to fame is that was the last place in Ireland to get electricity... that should have been the first clue ...
On this late afternoon as we were heading home, we stopped at a crossroads where we stopped at a fruit stand and admired the rugged country that stretched out in all directions.
Google map simply implied the best road was to head to Kenmore and then onward across the peninsula. Yet there appeared to be a secondary road that cut straight across and certainly looked shorter although the lines were dotted and there appeared to be a few spaces between some of the dots.
We were at the crossroads at the top of a hill with views in all directions. I studied the signpost and the single track paved road that led gracefully down into a deep valley ...
While we were reviewing our options, a small 4x4 with top rolled down and a young couple laughing merrily, careened around a corner and headed straight down into the valley. Soon after, another car came up out of the valley and didn't seem much the worse for wear.
The sun was out and the air was full of bright possibilities. What were we waiting for?
Not to be outdone and feeling utterly optimistic, I slammed the gearshift into action and headed down toward the other side of the mountain, full of bravado and good intentions.
But as is often the case in Ireland, there was a witches brew boiling in the sky overlooking the valley between.
We were barely 10 minutes in when the sky vomited streams of rain that chased every sane creature into safe havens. We passed a sheep hiding under a cleft of rock who looked at us like we were obviously insane to be outside in this weather.
The road narrowed and soon became nothing more than a dirt lane. We drove on even though every fiber of common sense challenged us to turn about and make our escape back to main road.
But we refused to give in and instead kept driving. As the sky descended deeper around the car we passed the little 4x4 that encouraged our decision to take this road. The top was rolled up and they were pouring over a large map while the rain gushed over their windshield. Perhaps foolishly we felt strangely invigorated and braves until the road became a creek and flooded into a stream. At this point we were driving on water as we passed an abandoned cottage, winding through the scraggly country of the valley floor. The afternoon was dissolving but we were too far in to turn back.
Eventually the road started climbing toward the next ridge.
Soon, the dirt turned into pavement and then a chuckle of sunlight stretched across the crest of the final hill.
We could see the ocean ahead and a couple of stray sheep lumbering casually down the road ahead dreaming about rainbows, food and dry barns. Naturally, I pulled over and snapped the image you see above.
Dusk came shortly after and we laughed aloud as surely as we were cringing in the car just a few minutes before. Laughter is indeed a great medicine.
Some true tales are simply too bizarre and full of spry irony to embellish. So I toss this onto the fire and hope you enjoy the warmth.
Black Valley Storm * (Background Story)
Somewhere off the map in the county of Kerry, on the wild Atlantic coast of Ireland, there is a crooked road that crosses the peninsula from one coast to the other. Some claim it is a shortcut, but I would add "But to where???!"
This "shortcut" is commonly known as the Black Valley Road. It's main claim to fame is that was the last place in Ireland to get electricity... that should have been the first clue ...
On this late afternoon as we were heading home, we stopped at a crossroads where we stopped at a fruit stand and admired the rugged country that stretched out in all directions.
Google map simply implied the best road was to head to Kenmore and then onward across the peninsula. Yet there appeared to be a secondary road that cut straight across and certainly looked shorter although the lines were dotted and there appeared to be a few spaces between some of the dots.
We were at the crossroads at the top of a hill with views in all directions. I studied the signpost and the single track paved road that led gracefully down into a deep valley ...
While we were reviewing our options, a small 4x4 with top rolled down and a young couple laughing merrily, careened around a corner and headed straight down into the valley. Soon after, another car came up out of the valley and didn't seem much the worse for wear.
The sun was out and the air was full of bright possibilities. What were we waiting for?
Not to be outdone and feeling utterly optimistic, I slammed the gearshift into action and headed down toward the other side of the mountain, full of bravado and good intentions.
But as is often the case in Ireland, there was a witches brew boiling in the sky overlooking the valley between.
We were barely 10 minutes in when the sky vomited streams of rain that chased every sane creature into safe havens. We passed a sheep hiding under a cleft of rock who looked at us like we were obviously insane to be outside in this weather.
The road narrowed and soon became nothing more than a dirt lane. We drove on even though every fiber of common sense challenged us to turn about and make our escape back to main road.
But we refused to give in and instead kept driving. As the sky descended deeper around the car we passed the little 4x4 that encouraged our decision to take this road. The top was rolled up and they were pouring over a large map while the rain gushed over their windshield. Perhaps foolishly we felt strangely invigorated and braves until the road became a creek and flooded into a stream. At this point we were driving on water as we passed an abandoned cottage, winding through the scraggly country of the valley floor. The afternoon was dissolving but we were too far in to turn back.
Eventually the road started climbing toward the next ridge.
Soon, the dirt turned into pavement and then a chuckle of sunlight stretched across the crest of the final hill.
We could see the ocean ahead and a couple of stray sheep lumbering casually down the road ahead dreaming about rainbows, food and dry barns. Naturally, I pulled over and snapped the image you see above.
Dusk came shortly after and we laughed aloud as surely as we were cringing in the car just a few minutes before. Laughter is indeed a great medicine.
Some true tales are simply too bizarre and full of spry irony to embellish. So I toss this onto the fire and hope you enjoy the warmth.