Venture Out Expedition

We met at the Venture Out stores in Galway — a modest but well-organised base where everything had been prepared in advance: backpacks, boots, thermals, waterproofs, hats, gloves — all essential gear provided for participants. The only thing required from us was a few personal items and an open mind.

Ten participants had been expected, but two were unable to attend due to last-minute family emergencies. For some of the remaining eight, it had taken months — even years — of support from Venture Out to get them to this starting point. One participant had been working closely with Barry (a Venture Out leader) for over a month to build up the social and emotional readiness needed to attend, only to withdraw the night before. This highlighted just how significant a step it is for many people to even show up.

The group was a rich mix of backgrounds and stories:

• • Half were in active recovery from addiction.
  • Others were at the cusp of considering recovery.
  • Several were living with social anxiety so acute they rarely left their homes.
  • One participant with a complex personality disorder, bi polar and PTSD.

After a short journey to Connemara, we reached our first campsite. The team demonstrated how to pitch a tent, and then we worked together to set up camp — a simple line of individual tents, shoulder-to-shoulder, forming our first small community.

Dinner was a bonding experience in itself. We were shown how to cook with a Trangia (a small camping stove), and then paired up based on what we wanted to eat. The act of communicating what food we wanted to eat, preparing food together — chopping vegetables, sharing spices, learning new techniques — created the first genuine moments of connection.

Afterwards, we were taught how to clean our cooking gear naturally, using moss and river water — another small but meaningful task that encouraged cooperation and mutual support.

We gathered wood for a fire, warmed our hands with hot drinks, and slowly settled into the silence of the mountains. Bedtime came around 10–11pm. Sleep came more easily for some than others.

A slow and gentle start at 8am, with shared teas, coffees, and quiet breakfasts. Today, two participants left the expedition. Patrick had an infected tattoo that worsened overnight. Cathal, who lives with PTSD and a personality disorder, said he felt others were talking about him and made the difficult but necessary choice to leave. His decision was respected without question — psychological safety is at the heart of what Venture Out does.

During the morning circle, we reflected creatively — “what animal are you this morning?” — a light way to connect feelings to metaphor. A short meditation followed, helping ground us in the present.

Then came the biggest physical challenge yet: a hike up Mam Turk. It was steep, hot, and demanding. At the summit, we discovered a hidden lake. One by one, people got in — despite fear, cold, or self-consciousness.

There was a moment here that I’ll honestly never forget. One participant George, who has severe social anxiety, to the point of not talking to anyone basically, and sitting and walking separate to the group – suddenly after a long time sitting at the lake watching others swim, with his iconical hoody up, cat on, layers all over – stripped off, and jumped into the lake, head first. He came up smiling from ear to ear and laughing, it was the first time any of us had seen him smile, it was unforgettable. His joy was contagious.

Joe, who’d only ever swam outdoors the day before in the river, joined in again as well. He said he was always too nervous before, and hadn’t had the chance, and always felt too self-conscious to take his clothes off in front of others. From the way he got into the river and the lake on the trip, you would have never thought he had those worries. These were milestone moments — not about swimming, but about saying yes to life again.

Mark, another participant, spoke quietly that evening: “This time round in life, I’m going to do things differently”. I’d never thought about life this way or heard anyone say something like this, and I found it really powerful.

Lucy, who openly shared that she had lived through 30 years of drug and alcohol addiction, reflected with strength and grace. The wilderness, it seemed, was stripping away old narratives and giving people a new lens through which to see themselves.

Want to know more about Ireland’s lakes and loughs? Check out our blog for few of our favourites.

Read More