This was to be, of necessity, one of our shorter walks for we were scheduled to visit our lame friend in Irvine in the afternoon. So we chose an area near here for our outing.
The fine, summery weather of the last few days continued into today. When we drew up at the visitor’s car park at Muirshiel the sun was already shining hazily and the morning was warm. So shorts were worn for the first time in ages, shorts and hill boots for we were for the hill again today. But, first we had the road to walk.
This ‘road’ was the track to the old Barytes Mine. For the aviphiles this was to be a birdie day (Another!!!!) and as we started along the track we could hear the cuckoo calling from a copse of conifers. But, try as we might, we couldn‘t spot it. Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo echoed across the open moor, getting fainter as we walked on. Jimmy and Davie talked of hen harriers for this is the country of such birds and eyes were peeled for these. We think they might be a figment of Jimmy’s imagination for, apart from ubiquitous meadow pipit, nary a bird was seen. Alan did spot a great yellow pipit but this turned out to be a JCB parked by the roadside. We think Alan doesn’t take this bird spotting seriously. And this was how the four kilometres to the old mine was covered, with Jimmy looking for harriers and Alan spotting weird and wonderful things. We all spotted the two walkers in front of us as we approached the mine workings, though. And also the female harrier - at a distance but at least there.
The mine exited some interest and time was spent examining the works and the quarry where the barytes was mined. Bits of pink barytes lay around and were picked up and inspected often. The two walkers were found havin
g a bite at the lip of the quarry and a few minutes conversation was had with them. They were for the hill as well. Davie, however, was now for the end of the quarry for he is of an inquisitive nature and had to explore. He was warned by the strangers that there was no way out at the end and he would have to come back to their end but they underestimated Davie’s Spiderman-like climbing ability. The other three of us, though, opted for the easier route up the lip of the quarry.
Rusty machinery - gears, cogs, bogies etc. - lay on the moor around the quarry and a sluice was found in the burn. These were noted as we climbed a faintly defined path towards the hill. We found Davie and Holly emerging from the pit at the top end and they joined us on the path. But this path became less and less distinct and eventually we lost it completely and took to the heather. Due to the recent dry spell the hill was drier than it might have been and the heather was short. The walking was easy. But none of us had actually been on the hill that we intended to climb and each left the carrying of a map to the others. No map, then. And no real guide to the destination. We picked our way upward through the heather hoping to find a guiding path on the skyline in front. For reasons known only to himself Robert thought the path must be away to the left even though the rest knew it must be towards the right. Bob went his own way though remained in sight. It became obvious that Robert was not coming back our way so we went his for we thought he must have found a path. But there was none and it was now peece time. We sat down.
The landscape had been opening up as we climbed but the day was hazy and the diffuse light flattened the scene and limited visibility. But the day was warm and the breeze now blowing was warm. We sat and enjoyed a leisurely peece.
Peece finished we continued the upward progress and crested the ridge within a few hundred yards. We could now see our objective hill over to the right. Far over to the right. We had no time to visit for the afternoon appointment at Johnny’s was looming. Did we care that we were on the wrong hill. Not a bit of it. We were on a hill and that was the important thing. We could see another top to the left and, below this, a small lochan dammed at the far end. A reservoir? And where there is a reservoir, there is a service road or path.
We strode out on the ridge, through the heather and sphaggy bog and gained the top easily enough. Then we dropped straight down to the reservoir. Alan spotted ducks on the water (Is he taking this bird spotting seriously after all?) but they were too far away for positive identification by the naturalist. Holly, as ever, enjoyed the reservoir when we reached it. She helped the boys enjoy it as well by bring back the stick so that they could take pleasure in throwing it in the water again. Great fun.
We found the path at the dam and followed this back to the road. The cuckoo was still calling in the same copse as we approached but this time it was answered by a call from another wood. When we came to the bridge the second cuckoo flew along a fence and landed on a post giving a good view of itself. It flew over the burn and was joined by the first. ‘Great spot’, said Jimmy. The others agreed. Approaching the centre car park we met two young men. Robert was heard to ask if they had seen the cuckoo. Then he told them of the great view we had. Do we have a fledgling birder in our company? (Sorry about the rotten pun)
The fine, summery weather of the last few days continued into today. When we drew up at the visitor’s car park at Muirshiel the sun was already shining hazily and the morning was warm. So shorts were worn for the first time in ages, shorts and hill boots for we were for the hill again today. But, first we had the road to walk.
This ‘road’ was the track to the old Barytes Mine. For the aviphiles this was to be a birdie day (Another!!!!) and as we started along the track we could hear the cuckoo calling from a copse of conifers. But, try as we might, we couldn‘t spot it. Cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo echoed across the open moor, getting fainter as we walked on. Jimmy and Davie talked of hen harriers for this is the country of such birds and eyes were peeled for these. We think they might be a figment of Jimmy’s imagination for, apart from ubiquitous meadow pipit, nary a bird was seen. Alan did spot a great yellow pipit but this turned out to be a JCB parked by the roadside. We think Alan doesn’t take this bird spotting seriously. And this was how the four kilometres to the old mine was covered, with Jimmy looking for harriers and Alan spotting weird and wonderful things. We all spotted the two walkers in front of us as we approached the mine workings, though. And also the female harrier - at a distance but at least there.
The mine exited some interest and time was spent examining the works and the quarry where the barytes was mined. Bits of pink barytes lay around and were picked up and inspected often. The two walkers were found havin
g a bite at the lip of the quarry and a few minutes conversation was had with them. They were for the hill as well. Davie, however, was now for the end of the quarry for he is of an inquisitive nature and had to explore. He was warned by the strangers that there was no way out at the end and he would have to come back to their end but they underestimated Davie’s Spiderman-like climbing ability. The other three of us, though, opted for the easier route up the lip of the quarry.Rusty machinery - gears, cogs, bogies etc. - lay on the moor around the quarry and a sluice was found in the burn. These were noted as we climbed a faintly defined path towards the hill. We found Davie and Holly emerging from the pit at the top end and they joined us on the path. But this path became less and less distinct and eventually we lost it completely and took to the heather. Due to the recent dry spell the hill was drier than it might have been and the heather was short. The walking was easy. But none of us had actually been on the hill that we intended to climb and each left the carrying of a map to the others. No map, then. And no real guide to the destination. We picked our way upward through the heather hoping to find a guiding path on the skyline in front. For reasons known only to himself Robert thought the path must be away to the left even though the rest knew it must be towards the right. Bob went his own way though remained in sight. It became obvious that Robert was not coming back our way so we went his for we thought he must have found a path. But there was none and it was now peece time. We sat down.
The landscape had been opening up as we climbed but the day was hazy and the diffuse light flattened the scene and limited visibility. But the day was warm and the breeze now blowing was warm. We sat and enjoyed a leisurely peece.
Peece finished we continued the upward progress and crested the ridge within a few hundred yards. We could now see our objective hill over to the right. Far over to the right. We had no time to visit for the afternoon appointment at Johnny’s was looming. Did we care that we were on the wrong hill. Not a bit of it. We were on a hill and that was the important thing. We could see another top to the left and, below this, a small lochan dammed at the far end. A reservoir? And where there is a reservoir, there is a service road or path.
We strode out on the ridge, through the heather and sphaggy bog and gained the top easily enough. Then we dropped straight down to the reservoir. Alan spotted ducks on the water (Is he taking this bird spotting seriously after all?) but they were too far away for positive identification by the naturalist. Holly, as ever, enjoyed the reservoir when we reached it. She helped the boys enjoy it as well by bring back the stick so that they could take pleasure in throwing it in the water again. Great fun.
We found the path at the dam and followed this back to the road. The cuckoo was still calling in the same copse as we approached but this time it was answered by a call from another wood. When we came to the bridge the second cuckoo flew along a fence and landed on a post giving a good view of itself. It flew over the burn and was joined by the first. ‘Great spot’, said Jimmy. The others agreed. Approaching the centre car park we met two young men. Robert was heard to ask if they had seen the cuckoo. Then he told them of the great view we had. Do we have a fledgling birder in our company? (Sorry about the rotten pun)
We took refreshment back to our lame friend’s in Irvine where he showed us pictures of his break in France. He also showed us pictures of the pins holding it together. We hope he will be back with us before the end of the summer.
Right: A picture of Johnny's break in France and the pins holding it together.
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