Peter's house in Catrine was the gathering place today. We were reduced to six for Johnny was still on holiday and Rex was doting on his relatively new granddaughter.
The day was beginning to cloud over after a night of frost and a cold easterly was felt even in the bottom of the valley. After coffee and cake - it was delicious, Peter - we left Peter’s and took an indirect route through a wood to the war memorial at the top of the brae. Peter was warned about brambles (see Blacksidend 1, 19/04/06) but this time there was no shrubbery to fight through for we followed tarmac toward Sorn, walking directly into the wind. This was to be the case for most of the outward journey. As is usual of late, we split into two groups, the fast two at the front and the sensible to the rear. There were to be a few miles of tarmac before we came together again. 
At Hillhead Farm, cattle, still in the winter shed, were being fed on silage and Paul thought that this would make a good picture only to discover camera problems. His camera was to stay in the rucksack for the day. Jimmy took the picture for him.
Still, we followed tarmac. Down to the Mauchline-Sorn road, towards Sorn, up the Galston road and turned east along a minor road that would take us closer to the hill. Pheasant had been heard and seen all along the route and, at Blairmulloch, Jimmy spotted a hen lying by boulders on a burn bank. It took the rest some minutes to find her such was her camouflage. During these minutes the fast pair disappeared out of sight. They were spotted taking the service road for Blackside Farm for they knew where they were going. The rest followed.
The house that was being built the last time we were here was still being built. Though it was several feet higher, it was far from com
plete. The chap building it single-handedly made comment about ‘Planning’ but this wasn’t picked up on for we were walking smartly now to try to catch the fast pair. They were found resting at the cattle grid just beyond the trees and a coffee break was called by the slow. We would stay together now for the best part of the rest of the day. Curlew called across the moor and a pair of lapwing displayed over the field in front of us. Whaups and peesies, Jimmy called them. But whatever you call them these birds are highly evocative of the Scottish moors and it is always a delight to hear and see them.
A pair of barking spaniels greeted us at Blacksidend farm and an aged Belgian shepherd escorted us through the steading. Then the dry farm road deteriorated into a wet muddy track. But this was only to be followed for a hundred metres or so before we came through a field gate and on to the open hillside. The hill was wet after a winter of exceptionally rainy weather but the climb was short and the top was dry. Dry, it may have been, but here we found the strength of the easterly and we were glad to cocoon ourselves in the shelter of the hollow cairn on the top for an early lunch.
As we sat for the peece, Paul, being a wireless ham himself, was able to give us the reason for the wireless mast on the cairn. It is used for competitions. Though we couldn’t quite grasp the concept of wireless competitions, we could see the reason for the mast being at this particular point. The day was hazier than the last couple of times we were here but the view was extensive in almost three hundred and sixty degrees and encompassed most of the county. The mast would be available to almost any ham anywhere in Ayrshire.
Also, as we sat, Robert was looking at the cairn on Wedder Hill barely a mile away. Jimmy was the only one of the group to have been on this top, having come over it with his bike. (Remember, Jimmy is a cyclist/masochist/feckin’ idiot*). So, peece finished, we set off through the sphaggy bogs to Wedder Hill. Holly disgraced herself. Having no stick to chase, she thought it fun to chase other things. Davie is fluent in three languages but we felt that he was now inventing a new one for he was using words that none of us had heard before as he tried to get Holly back. And we sympathised. Then, with the dog and Davie back under control, we moved on. We reached the cairn on Wedder, looked at the view and retraced our steps through the sphaggy bogs to Blacksidend. Holly was on her lead in abject disgrace.
The way back was the reverse of the way forwards, at least as far as Brocklar Farm. Here we turned left then almost immediately right on the minor road for Sorn. A car tooted. The driver was a friend of Peter and Robert and the group stopped for a blether. Davie and Jimmy sauntered on. They waited for the others on the bench on the path above Sorn but only three arrived for Peter decided that he would rather walk through the village. We met him again near the old graveyard. We were now to follow the River Ayr Way back to Catrine
The walk down the river from Sorn to Catrine is always a pleasure. Today was no exception and those for whom this was the first time here, delighted in this part of the walk. As they did at the voes for the sun made the place look almost continental. And swans, on the water and on a nest on the island, completed an idyllic scene far from the popular view of Catrine.
A pint in the Royal Bar in Catrine completed a superb day.
* delete as you think appropriate
At Hillhead Farm, cattle, still in the winter shed, were being fed on silage and Paul thought that this would make a good picture only to discover camera problems. His camera was to stay in the rucksack for the day. Jimmy took the picture for him.
Still, we followed tarmac. Down to the Mauchline-Sorn road, towards Sorn, up the Galston road and turned east along a minor road that would take us closer to the hill. Pheasant had been heard and seen all along the route and, at Blairmulloch, Jimmy spotted a hen lying by boulders on a burn bank. It took the rest some minutes to find her such was her camouflage. During these minutes the fast pair disappeared out of sight. They were spotted taking the service road for Blackside Farm for they knew where they were going. The rest followed.
The house that was being built the last time we were here was still being built. Though it was several feet higher, it was far from com
plete. The chap building it single-handedly made comment about ‘Planning’ but this wasn’t picked up on for we were walking smartly now to try to catch the fast pair. They were found resting at the cattle grid just beyond the trees and a coffee break was called by the slow. We would stay together now for the best part of the rest of the day. Curlew called across the moor and a pair of lapwing displayed over the field in front of us. Whaups and peesies, Jimmy called them. But whatever you call them these birds are highly evocative of the Scottish moors and it is always a delight to hear and see them.A pair of barking spaniels greeted us at Blacksidend farm and an aged Belgian shepherd escorted us through the steading. Then the dry farm road deteriorated into a wet muddy track. But this was only to be followed for a hundred metres or so before we came through a field gate and on to the open hillside. The hill was wet after a winter of exceptionally rainy weather but the climb was short and the top was dry. Dry, it may have been, but here we found the strength of the easterly and we were glad to cocoon ourselves in the shelter of the hollow cairn on the top for an early lunch.
As we sat for the peece, Paul, being a wireless ham himself, was able to give us the reason for the wireless mast on the cairn. It is used for competitions. Though we couldn’t quite grasp the concept of wireless competitions, we could see the reason for the mast being at this particular point. The day was hazier than the last couple of times we were here but the view was extensive in almost three hundred and sixty degrees and encompassed most of the county. The mast would be available to almost any ham anywhere in Ayrshire.
Also, as we sat, Robert was looking at the cairn on Wedder Hill barely a mile away. Jimmy was the only one of the group to have been on this top, having come over it with his bike. (Remember, Jimmy is a cyclist/masochist/feckin’ idiot*). So, peece finished, we set off through the sphaggy bogs to Wedder Hill. Holly disgraced herself. Having no stick to chase, she thought it fun to chase other things. Davie is fluent in three languages but we felt that he was now inventing a new one for he was using words that none of us had heard before as he tried to get Holly back. And we sympathised. Then, with the dog and Davie back under control, we moved on. We reached the cairn on Wedder, looked at the view and retraced our steps through the sphaggy bogs to Blacksidend. Holly was on her lead in abject disgrace.
The way back was the reverse of the way forwards, at least as far as Brocklar Farm. Here we turned left then almost immediately right on the minor road for Sorn. A car tooted. The driver was a friend of Peter and Robert and the group stopped for a blether. Davie and Jimmy sauntered on. They waited for the others on the bench on the path above Sorn but only three arrived for Peter decided that he would rather walk through the village. We met him again near the old graveyard. We were now to follow the River Ayr Way back to Catrine
The walk down the river from Sorn to Catrine is always a pleasure. Today was no exception and those for whom this was the first time here, delighted in this part of the walk. As they did at the voes for the sun made the place look almost continental. And swans, on the water and on a nest on the island, completed an idyllic scene far from the popular view of Catrine.
A pint in the Royal Bar in Catrine completed a superb day.
* delete as you think appropriate
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