11 February Failford to Stair and back

I like the days in winter

when paths are packed with snow

and feet make creaky footsteps

wherever footsteps go

Aileen Fisher

Nine of us turned out for today’s walk, Paul and Rex were the absentees noted. Ronnie joined us again today. Last week’s sojourn on the northern Kells didn’t put him off and he joined us again today.
The weather was lightly cloudy when we drew up in Failford for a short walk along the river but a reasonable forecast and a clearing sky meant we were hopeful of a good day.
Crunchy snow lay on the paths where the sun failed to reach. Today’s walk was to be short for this was Jimmy’s bus-pass do and we were repairing to the Rupee Room in Ayr for a celebration curry in the evening. The walk chosen was a repeat tramp of that section of the River Ayr walk from Failford to Stair and back. The route has been travelled often and has been described before so needs no description here. Suffice to say that somewhere along here the promise of the morning was fulfilled when the sun came out. There was a little warmth felt in the sun today but a cold breeze blew and crunchy snow lay on the path where it failed to reach. It was a day of opening and closing jackets depending on sunshine or shade though Davie dispensed with his altogether early in the walk.
We came down the river via Peden’s Pulpit for Ian hadn’t been there before and it’s always a nice diversion. Yet two chose not to go there but to keep to the main path. Perhaps they just wanted to be alone, who knows. However, we caught up with them at the top of the brae and we all kept to the main path after this.
When we came to the weir at Stair where there appeared to be some debate as to whether this should be an eating point. Jimmy made the decision when he sat down and pulled out his flask. Coffee was taken here.
Peter expressed an interest in revisiting a scene from his youth and showing us the same so, after coffee, we crossed Stair Bridge (1745). Immediately, there came an obstacle that showed that we aren’t as young as we’d like to think, an obstacle that tested mature bodies. A five foot retaining wall had to be negotiated. Peter was first up and lent a hand to Robert. Now, with two hands at the top, the operation could be made easier. Jimmy was hoisted without difficulty then Allan but, as the two tired, it became more of a struggle. Poor Johnny’s fifteen stone proved too much and the bold J was precipitated unceremoniously back down the wall. It took two goes and a fair bit of effort to get Johnny elevated. However, we were all eventually hauled to the top of the dyke and found ourselves on the remains of an ancient track.
That this track had not been used for some time was obvious from the number of trees fallen over it, mature trees and beginning to rot. Ducking under and clambering over slippy tree trunks brought us to the old hone works. Some had come this way before (24/10/07) but for the most it was new territory. Those who had been here the last time were treated to a potted history by the old boy who was the owner and this potted history was passed on to the newcomers. A few minutes were spent exploring and examining the works. The sheaf of corn relief on the wall was a reminder of the original use of the building, as was the mill-lade behind it. But the pieces of hone-stone picked up by those who do this kind of thing showed its more recent function.
Examining the remains of the hone-stone mine.We thought we had finished with the hone-works when we returned to the track but Peter had other ideas. We continued down the track through a pleasant grove of mature Scots Pines to the remains of the hone-stone mine. This was very much new ground for all but Peter and we followed where he led, explaining the different areas of the mine workings. A pleasant few minutes was spent in industrial archaeology mood trying to visualise the place when it was working. But the cold air was getting to the old bones again so we moved on.
We came back to the copse of pines and left the track for a few more minutes of archaeological guesswork. And we stayed among the trees, ignoring the muddy track below us for a wee while. But we had to come down to the track eventually. As has become his habit over the last few weeks, Robert decided to slide in the mud and sit down. We think he is developing a mud fetish. But, at least this time there was nae coo cack in the mix.
With Robert returned to the upright, we returned to the bridge of Stair. Some had to be home early so the return upriver was taken briskly and without real halt. We did stop for breathers but not sufficiently long for another peece stop and the appetite was honed for the evening meal.
We came back to Failford the back of two (plenty of time for the early hamers) and partook of a jug of ale in the inn there.

PW The evening curry in the Rupee Room was of the better standard and the company was good. The evening passed quickly in jolly banter. Such was the enjoyment that was suggested that we don’t need to wait for another sixtieth birthday before we do the same again. The suggestion was adopted unanimously so we look forward to the next time. Meanwhile, for Jimmy ‘Happy bus-pass to you, bus-pass to ..............’