I write this on the 30th, but our day yesterday was long and eventful, so we did not have time to write. So, I will try and recall everything that happened.

We knew we had about 25 km to travel, so we were able to get an early start, around 9:30am. A section on the road, then onto smaller tracks and across pastures. The arrows did not quite match the map, but we went with the arrows. A little more on the road, then a long section through logging roads. It was a showery morning and several times a black cloud would move in and dump rain on us for about 15 minutes, then it would be sunny again. Kileen and Sunny seemed to have one level of wind and rain where they�d walk with heads turned in the wind. Then, at a higher rain/wind level (such as when it turned to hail), they�d stop and turn their tails to wind, no matter where we were. They were tough to get out of this position until the wind/rain stopped, even in the middle of the road. So, we�d usually put up our hoods and wait for the rain the pass, all our backs to the wind.

Eventually, we came to a village�Dromahair. They had a Spar, a small grocery, so I held the boys while Glen bought bread and cheese. We made our way to a small grassy area near a river and ate while the horses grazed.

This was the beginning of a section of public trail called the Sligo Way. It started as a lovely trail and track and small roads. We eventually came to the Lake Innisfree, made famous by Yeats for the Lake Isle of Innisfree, which we saw. It was all very lovely.

At this point, we were at the point in the trail called the �Lake Walk.� The horses were resistant to cross a little bit of muck on the way to the gate. We were about to find out why. We had entered the Bog. What followed was about 30-45 minutes of deep muck, sliding and sinking horses, slippery bridges, and plastic crating. Very quickly, we were off the horses and leading them (hence, we dubbed this section the Lake Get-Off-and-Walk-Your-Horses). I finally gave up on the so-called trail, after seeing Sunny sink up well past his hocks after sliding off the broken plastic bridge path. We all went cross-country, a wet sinking way, but at least not deep deep mud. After a while, we came to a track and we were very glad to see it. Our next B&B hostess commented later that, since the horse�s girths and bellies were not covered in mud, then we�d come through OK. Their legs, our boots and pants were caked though.

The rest of the ride was a lovely path along the lake, and woods, then a trotting road, then a long road section. We got into the B&B about 6:30 pm, after about 8-9 hours of riding (and walking). We were met there by Agnes, who was, as Glen put it, a �force of nature.� The sweetest, nicest older woman you ever met. She had a wonderful Irish brogue that went a mile a minute, filled with expressions like, �God bless ye.� She had a little dog named Henry Ford, or just Ford, who�d been injured last week in a dog fight, hence he had to stay in the house.

We got the horses put away and got into the house all with the help and tales of Agnes. Showered, we came down to a huge dinner of smoked salmon salad, soup, chicken, and dessert. We didn�t eat much of the chicken, so Ford got quite a bit of it later after dinner. Agnes gave us a tour of her pictures, including Tillman and Collette�s 1970s wedding photo (Agnes is Collette�s mother), Heinrich jumping on an Irish equestrian team, and her great grandchildren. After this we went to bed, after a long exciting day.