Forgotten place where Meenard stands tall – Danders On Your Doorstep

Meenard is a tough hike, climb or clamber… you might even say it’s mean and hard. But that’s all part of the allure of this hidden mountain nestled in the central Sperrins.

This week’s challenge is just a couple of miles east of last week’s dander to Sawel, and similarly wild, the splendid isolation and endless vistas are well worth the effort.

The mountain can be approached from all directions, but for this dander we start off at the mysterious, yet unassuming, Goles Row standing stones.

With photographer Jason McCartan eager to capture this wilderness bathed in the bright evening sun, we set off along the narrow road leading into the valley at the base of Meenard.

As the route leads further towards the hills, so, too, grows the palpable distance from the so-called civilized world.

But one of the biggest surprises of this dander soon becomes clear. This little winding road – stained with the odd sheep poo or two – leads to houses and plenty of them.

As you draw closer, there’s no sign of smoke from the chimneys and it’s clear that no one has lived here for many, many years. This is truly a place that time has forgotten. The tarmac gives way to gravel and we pass by one derelict house and farmstead after another.

Through a broken window, an old Yellow Pages keeps on yellowing, while a crucifix on the wall keeps a vigil in the front hallway.

Sturdy stone walls have crumbled onto laneways and the white thorn hedges which once enclosed the front gardens have morphed into twisted and gnarled trees, whose limbs have been battered into shape by the funneled wind. Permanent stasis has encrusted old farm implements in thick rust, as heavily pregnant sheep graze the first pastures of spring in the old gardens, like characters in a living history museum.

This abandoned hamlet of houses offers an intriguing glimpse into the past, when generations lived and worked upon the stunning but inhospitable hills which encircle the settlement.

Following the stream

Dandering on, we come to a final little shed on the left that would make a perfect bothy, but for the gaping hole in the corroded roof. It’s at this point that Meenard finally comes into view straight ahead.

Crossing the stream, we set off to the left across a few of the customary boggy patches.

The mountain and the surrounding slopes create a slightly intimidating and Colosseum-like amphitheatre as we push on alongside the watercourse, which gurgles louder as the gradient increases.

And the hills have eyes; small gangs of sheep with ferocious looking horns gaze down upon the intruders from lofty and precarious slopes of Meenard, which in Irish is Mín Ard, meaning ‘high mountain pasture’.

At times, progress can appear minimal when faced with such as a vast mountainscape ahead.

Like Sawel, the terrain of Meenard is fairly physical – boots are a must, if only for the ankle support. The spongy surface underfoot saps the energy, as we plunder on without any clear path. For clarity – there is no path.

Keeping the noisy stream on our left as a guide, the going gets tougher as we wade through rushes and approach the edge of a dramatic ravine, likely carved out by the ice age.

The crystal clear water draining from the bogs above, gush down through the gorge in a series of wonderful waterfalls.

The all-important breaks provide a welcome breather and a chance to take in the stunning views. It’s also good to look back down the hill and marvel at the progress already made.

Once we reach the top of the ravine with a final steep scramble, we make a rather crooked beeline for the fence and turn right for the final ramble to the top.

This last section is less strenuous with just a few mazy routes through the peat stacks to reach the summit, which is marked with a small cairn.

On the top – which is 620 metres above sea level and the fourth highest peak in the Sperrins – you will see faint trails leading off in all directions – including to Sawel and over to Banagher Forest and Altbritain mountain on the other side. Beyond, you will see Lough Neagh, Slemish in north Antrim and, amazingly, the sharper peaks of the Mourne Mountains. In the opposite direction, you can see the shimmering waters of Lough Foyle and Errigal standing on the horizon.

As well as the visual rewards, the tranquility adds to this sensory salve. There’s plenty of wildlife which call this place home, and you’re likely to hear the occasional cries of a circling buzzard, the upbeat singing of smaller feathered species or even the haunting wail of a fox drawn to the hills by the inevitable casualties among the huge flocks of sheep. To create a loop, we follow the fence – on our left – and free-wheel down the hill following the tracks of a quad bike. Soon the cluster of derelict houses, coming into clearer view, beckon us back home to our starting point.

getting to the start

Taking on Meenard from Goles Row is a significant challenge and more than stretches the definition of a dander, as well as the hamstrings, glutes and other muscles.

It’s advisable to at least take a snack along for the journey and, of course, pack some proper clothing and the essential fully-charged mobile phone.

Getting to the starting point is relatively easy. From Plumbridge take the Draperstown Road; pass on through Cranagh and Sperrin and then you will you come to Goles Row on the left, which is marked with a brown tourist signpost. The small winding road to Meenard is called Goles Road and is on the left, just after the bridge.

For those of moderate fitness and allowing for generous breaks, the walk will take around four-and-a-half hours to complete.

With such a variety of features, this dander to the forgotten place where Meenard stands tall is one that should live long in the memory.