Djouce Mountain Loop

Welcome to Djouce Mountain. Pronounced joosh, with a soft j. You're about to climb one of the most distinctive peaks in north Wicklow — seven hundred and twenty-five metres at the summit, with a three-hundred-and-sixty-degree panorama that on a clear day takes in Dublin Bay, the Mourne Mountains in County Down, the Welsh coast across the Irish Sea, and the full spine of the Wicklow range. This audio tour covers the standard ascent from the JB Malone car park via the Wicklow Way, and the return via the same route. Distance: ten kilometres. Time: three and a half hours. Grade: challenging.

The name Djouce is a corruption of the Irish word Dioghais, meaning a fortified place or a rampart. Mountains with ramparts in their names often owe that name to a ring fort or a defensive structure on or near the summit. In Djouce's case, the rampart is natural — the near-vertical cliff that runs along the south-east face of the mountain, visible from miles away.

Start at the JB Malone car park, named for the man who, in the 1960s and 70s, single-handedly mapped out the route of the Wicklow Way — Ireland's first official long-distance walking trail. JB Malone was a journalist with the Evening Herald, a Dubliner who fell in love with the Wicklow Mountains, and an obsessive cataloguer of paths. His guidebooks are still in print. There's a small stone monument to him further along the walk — we'll pass it in about an hour.

Set off north on the Wicklow Way, following the yellow-arrow waymarkers. The first kilometre is flat and easy, climbing gently through a stretch of commercial forestry. Look out for the monument to JB Malone on your right — a simple stone cairn with a bronze plaque. He used to walk this exact stretch in his seventies, local climbers remember, stopping every hundred metres to talk to anyone he met.

After the monument, the track emerges from the forestry and the mountain comes into view ahead. Djouce looks, from here, like a slightly pointed dome of heather and exposed rock. The path climbs steadily up the southern shoulder, gaining height gradually for about two kilometres. Watch your footing — the surface is stony and, in places, eroded. A boardwalk has been installed over the wettest sections.

At about four kilometres in, you come to a junction. The Wicklow Way itself turns right, following the ridge towards Luggala and the rest of the route. Our route — to the summit of Djouce — continues straight on, a short but steep final push of about two hundred metres of height gain over five hundred metres of distance. This final section is unmaintained. Watch for loose stones.

You reach the summit. A small white trig pillar marks the highest point. Sit down. Turn slowly in a full circle. To the north, beyond the green patchwork of farms, the urban sprawl of Dublin is visible on clear days — the spire of the Convention Centre, Liberty Hall, the dark fang of the Poolbeg chimneys down on the bay. To the east, on truly clear days, you can see the peaks of Snowdonia in Wales, about a hundred and twenty kilometres away across the Irish Sea. To the south and west, the great central plateau of the Wicklow Mountains rolls away: Tonelagee, Mullaghcleevaun, Lugnaquilla in the distance, and the hanging valley of Glenmacnass.

A word on the place below. Look north-north-east from the summit and you'll see a jewel-green circular lake, very deep and very still. That's Lough Tay. Its shape, thanks to a dark peaty colouring at the north end and pale sand brought in by its most famous owner, looks like a pint of Guinness — which is why locals know it as the Guinness Lake. The estate around Lough Tay, called Luggala, belonged for over a century to the Guinness family, and has been used as a filming location for countless productions, including the Vikings television series in the 2010s. The estate changed hands in 2019. It is now in private ownership, and strictly not accessible from Djouce without permission.

A word on weather. Wicklow mountain weather is notoriously fickle. A summit that is clear in the morning can be in thick cloud by lunchtime. If cloud comes in while you're on Djouce, stop. Sit down. Wait. Do not attempt to walk down through cloud on the northern side — you will end up on cliffs. Return the way you came, carefully, by compass if necessary. Mountain rescue teams in Wicklow respond to around a hundred call-outs a year. Don't be one of them.

Back on the summit, turn your attention downward for a moment. The heather around you is Calluna vulgaris — the common heather of the British and Irish uplands. In August, it turns bright purple and fills the mountain with colour. If you're here in the right two weeks, the view is transformed. The small brown birds darting through it are meadow pipits — the single commonest bird on the Irish uplands and the primary food source for the hen harriers that hunt these slopes.

The descent is the reverse of the ascent. Take it carefully — more walkers turn an ankle coming down than going up, because the angle is the same but the impact is higher. Use the boardwalk where it exists. Watch your step on the stony sections. The rhythm of the descent is its own pleasure — the summit recedes, the view closes in, and by the time you hit the forestry you'll be warm from the effort and already looking forward to tea.

For tea, the Wicklow Heather restaurant in Laragh — about fifteen minutes down the road — is an institution. Large portions, excellent stews, and a wall of signed photographs from every passing musician, politician, and mountain walker who has ever stopped in. Pierce Brosnan has eaten there. So has Van Morrison. So has the man who fixes the boardwalk on Djouce. All are welcome.

Thank you for walking with us. Djouce is a Wicklow classic. Treat it with respect, go on a clear day, and it will give you one of the finest afternoons of walking in Ireland.