Visited An Abandoned Coal Mine Today .....

I've got some photo's. But, I can't show ye shit just yet. Because my fucking modem's at it's tricks again and I can barely get a page open on the entire net. 404 Fest. Never mind. I have a head full of imagery and anecdotes. Should yet be something in this for just about everyone.

Anyway, Dean O's got wind of this place, so off we went to explore it. Seems it's on top of the mountain I can see from here. The one the rains come down off of and flush my ditch. Only, unless ye actually used to Real mountains, ye won't have the vaguest clue of what I'm talking about here. People who've spent their lives in cities and have never experienced a Mountain could barely start to comprehend one.

I mean; This fucker's known as Coal Mountain, funnily enough. There. So now ye maybe thinking ye have me pinned down, eh? Get a map. Lookup Coal Mountain. Ditch lives somewhere beneath it, eh? Fucking try me! This bastard divides Counties. And, from where we got to today, we could look over into Ulster and out across various other places for miles and miles around. Seems my place was somewhere on a far horizon.

Anyway, we drove up there and the first stop was what I'd already explained, from Dean O's earlier description, must have been the Dynamite Store. Todays closer examination bore me out on that. Completely isolated. Small, steel door. Odd, angled vents in the sides and a reinforced concrete roof.

Inside, through the long ago seized up steel door, was a wooden door. That led into a wood lined chamber. Here they'd have stored the dynamite. Nice and dry, see? And, someone having smashed a small hole in a top corner, I gleefully encouraged Dean to get in there. Which he did. Unfortunately, without any nasty little accidents, which I was hoping to capture on film.

But, it was the 'Mad Shepherd' who really stole the early part of the show for us. We'd pulled up in a lay by, high on this mountain side. Got out, to stretch our legs and have a look round. Spotted this figure approaching up the hill road about 150 yards away and decided ~ 100 yards away ~ to give him a minute to ..... " Mornin'. Not a bad day ..... "

Fuck Me! How did he Do That?! Fucking guy was late sixties, if he was a day. Slim little bloke. Wearing an old pair of turned down gum boots. And ye'd think he was an Olympic 'Walking Race' merchant! Fucker came up that hill like he was motorised and virtually flashed past us to step out onto the mountainside and vanish, along with his little collie Dog.

In my youth, I was a notoriously fast walker. But, I couldn't have walked that fast, that far, on a flat pavement! This cunt was steaming up a fucking Mountain Side like he was breaking his neck and there was a loo at the top!

Wasn't just me either. Dean was completely fucked up by it. And when, moments later, we followed the human jet out towards the dynamite shed, I almost screamed when I made him out, down the bottom of the fucking mountain, rounding up sheep and moving across the ankle snapping, roughest of all terrain almost as fast as his damn Collie!

Freaked us out completely. But, there we are. Born and raised to it, no doubt. Probably been doing that since he could walk. Every fucking day of his life. Rain, wind, sun or snow.


Anyway, having given the store the once over, we wandered back to the van and were a bit slow about actually getting into it. This was because a motor had pulled in behind us and out had got a young couple. And, to say She was a bit fucking tasty would be a right understatement! So, Dean kicked his tyres a bit, whilst I fiddled with my jacket until they'd turned and wandered off in the other direction.

Then we took a drive further along the mountainside. Heart breaking, as it happens. I mean, here we were, up on what should be one of the most desolate places in Eire. Barely a dwelling visible in the panoramic views beneath us. Yet there was fucking Litter all over the road sides!

Honestly; I've long harboured this fantasy about secreting myself along some country roadway, shouldering a Rocket Propelled Grenade. Watching for passing motors. Let me see a bottle, crisp packet or coffee cup fly out that fucking window and ..... Bastards.

Amazing thing is, we'd gone a mile or two along this god forsaken track when we ran smack into a Garda patrol motor, coming the other way! You have Never seen two seat belts go on so bloody fast! What the hell he was doing up there, we couldn't fathom.

So, we turned round and followed his route, back to where we'd come from. Devanned and started hiking up to the peak, where the coal minings were. Here we go; That couple were just coming off the high track, as we approached its intersection with the lower track we were on. Sadly, we'd got the timing just wrong, so we'd passed beneath them. Thus we couldn't get another decent look at her. Bastard.

That's when I pointed out to Dean O' that he'd obviously been fucking her, up there. Thus we should try to find the condom as soon as possible. Dean looked at me rather old fashioned then. But, I then pointed out that, never mind its contents. If we could find it, still glistening and wet on the Outside? Surely worth a lick?

It was quite interesting then, to notice how avidly Dean started casting his eyes about the ground before us! He actually started pushing ahead, obviously anxious to find likely spots before me! LOL! Dean O' learns things from me ;-)

Never did find the glistening prize. Plenty of curious sheep and yet more fucking rubbish though. Most of all, Dean discovered a hole in the rock face. I, at first, thought it must be a foxes hole, by the position of it. Just a barely man sized, irregular hole, half covered by juncus and such. Till Dean shone his torch in ..... Fuck!!!

I'll leave it there though. For now. Just tried PhotoBucket again and it still won't let me in. Next time, I want to show ye some photo's.