By Micheal, Founder of Furté Outdoor Co.
I was 12 when my dad took me on my first real hike. Not a walk in the woods, not a family stroll — a full day in the Wicklow Mountains, just me and him.
No fanfare. No warm-up. Just, “We’re going for a hike tomorrow”
I didn’t really know what I was getting into.
The Wicklow Mountains — Where It All Began
We set off early. I remember the mist clinging to the lower hills, the heavy silence of the Irish morning, and the crunch of our boots on damp gravel. It wasn’t raining (for once), but it felt like the sky was always thinking about it.
There was no route card. No trail signs or map apps. Just my dad’s quiet confidence and a sense that this was the plan, and we were doing it.
Step by Step, Into the Pain
The first hour was fine. New boots, good energy, light conversation. But then the hills got steeper, the trail rougher, and the wind louder. My legs burned. My feet started to blister. I didn’t want to say anything, but I was starting to struggle.
By mid-morning, we were both quiet. That wasn’t unusual — my dad wasn’t the chatty type. But there was a rhythm to our silence. A shared focus. One foot in front of the other.
We climbed. We descended. We climbed again. My jacket got soaked with sweat and then dried in the wind. I remember looking up at some ridge and thinking, there’s no way we’re going up there.
But we did.
The Unspoken Bond
We didn’t talk much — and that was the point. The silence was the conversation. At 12, I didn’t understand it. I do now.
It was one of the few days I can remember where we were just alone, together, with no distractions — just the mountain, the wind, and the burn in our legs. There was no need to explain anything. He was showing me something the only way he knew how.
Not just the mountains — but how to be in them. How to suffer a little, and keep walking anyway. How to move through pain without panic. How to read the land. How to respect it.
No Loop. No Plan. No Way Back.
We didn’t do a loop. We just kept going forward. And by the time we hit a quiet road far from where we started, it was clear: we weren’t walking back, we were both too tired.
So we did what people did back then...We hitched a lift. (or rather he made do it). Some friendly driver eventually picked us up — two muddy, exhausted walkers — and drove us the long way back to the car. I remember the heat from the vents and the relief in my legs.
What That Day Gave Me
That was the day the outdoors got me — not with grandeur or Instagram glory, but through quiet effort, shared suffering, and a kind of calm that only comes from moving through real terrain with someone you trust.
It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t perfect. But it was real. And it stuck with me.
That one day in the Wicklow Mountains led to years of hiking and climbing — from Yr Wyddfa, to the Alps, to the Pyrenees, the four peaks and right back to Croagh Patrick (one of his favourites). It eventually took me to the summit of Mont Blanc, and brought me here: building Furté, a brand shaped by everything I’ve learned along the way.
Thanks, Dad.
You didn’t say much that day, but you taught me everything.
– Micheal
Founder, Furté Outdoor Co