There’s something about a winter forecast that mentions snow in Wicklow that makes it impossible to sit still. So we packed the van, threw in more layers than we’d probably need (and still somehow not enough), and pointed ourselves towards the Wicklow Mountains for a two-day reset.
Day One – Snow, Sideways Flurries & The Long Way Round
We woke up at Lough Tay with the wind blowing and a wet, slushy snow on the ground. The van roof had a light dusting, the windows edged in frost, and the whole valley looked dark and moody but soft somehow. Cold, yes – but magic.
After a quick coffee and the usual debate about how many layers is too many layers, we headed for the Spinc Trail. Within minutes, the “gentle winter hike” idea turned into sideways snow and wind that made you question your life choices. But honestly? That’s half the fun.
The boardwalk through Glenealo Valley felt wilder than usual — snow blowing across the timber, hills fading in and out of white haze. It was raw and exposed and properly Irish winter. The kind of conditions that make everything feel a bit more earned.
Later that afternoon, we decided to squeeze a bit more out of the day (because when are we ever sensible?). We joined the Wicklow Way and pushed towards Scarr Mountain. The legs were already feeling the morning miles, but the light over Lough Dan stopped us in our tracks. That view from Scarr — looking down as the evening started to settle — is one of those moments that quietly reminds you why you put yourself through the cold in the first place.
Along the way we spotted deer moving cautiously across the hillside, a few wild goats navigating the rocks like it was nothing, and even a flash of red from a fox disappearing into the heather. The mountains felt alive.
We finished the day exactly how you should after miles in winter conditions — a pint, burger and a sublime guinness & sticky toffee pudding. Completely justified. No discussion needed.
Day Two – Bright Skies & Frozen Ground
The next morning couldn’t have been more different.
Still snow on the ground around Lough Tay, but the wind had dropped and the sky had cleared. Everything felt calm. Crisp. Still.
We made our way up Djouce Mountain, the snow crunching underfoot with every step. No sideways flurries this time — just wide-open views stretching across Wicklow and out towards the coast. The kind of winter day that feels like a reward after the chaos of the day before.
It’s funny how the same place can show you two completely different personalities in 24 hours. One wild and testing. The other bright and generous.
Why Wicklow Always Delivers
There’s nothing extreme about what we did. No technical routes. No epic expeditions. Just two solid days walking in the hills. But that’s the beauty of Wicklow – you don’t need to go far or do anything outrageous for it to feel like an adventure.
It’s cold hands on a morning coffee beside the van.
It’s pushing on when the snow hits sideways.
It’s that quiet satisfaction standing over Lough Dan.
It’s refuelling with a pint you absolutely earned.
Simple, honest days in the mountains. The kind that leave you tired in the best way possible.
And somehow, already planning the next one.
