The snow that caused the cancellation of last week’s walk lay for over a week and, except where feet and wheels had compressed it, it lay soft and powdery. A slight thaw yesterday and an overnight frost combined to turn the compressed stuff into ice, and light rain this morning added a watery skim to the surface of this making underfoot conditions treacherous. Later in the day we were to discover just how treacherous. Still, at least the roads were clear which meant we could travel today. That saw seven of us make the trip to Annbank for the short walk to Auchincruive and back.
We gathered in the ice-covered car park of the Annbank Bowling Club. Some say that the Ooters are old and set in their ways. Today we were to disprove this theory, well at least in part. A momentous decision was made. We would do the walk in the reverse of the way we usually go. Does this foretell a change in the attitude of the Ooters? We will wait and see.
Anyway, slithering our way over the ice of the car park we came to the cleared tarmac of the main road. Walking up the middle of the road seemed the safest option and this is what we did, straggling up the main street and only stepping on to the icy snow to let traffic past. Not that we were a danger to traffic in any way for Davie had his luminous yellow jacket on, a jacket that can probably be seen from the moon on a clear night, so should be eminently visible to oncoming vehicles here on earth. We proceeded in relative safety along the road.
It was noted with some surprise by the cynics that the Christmas tree in the village square, though unguarded, still had all its lights intact. ‘Aye, but ye’re no’ in Kilmaurnock noo’ was the response from our east county man. But full credit must go to the citizens of Annbank for this.
The good walking on tarmac took us through the village to Mill Road. Now we left the safety of the black tarmac and took to the icy Mill Farm track. This runs steeply downhill towards the river and proved extremely tricky today especially to those with Vibram soles. The few spots of rain falling on the ice made it particularly slippy and feet had to be placed judiciously to avoid mishap; on the McGarry scale this was definitely a ten plus. Davie, just to prove the point, decided to demonstrate his old ice skating skills by landing on his arse on the wet ice. Not content with this, he showed us his impression of ‘Dancing on Ice’ as he tried to regain his feet. Did we laugh? Course we did. Wet arse for Davie though.
Allan was being particularly careful on the down slope and the brave/rash/stupid* waited on the more level ground at the foot of the hill for him to catch up. It was now that the rain came seriously and added its wetness to the lying ice. And ice covered the path down to the river. Great care had to be taken once more. Even on the level, feet slipped and slithered, and it was fortunate for us that there was a path-side fence to hang onto or more might have had wet bottoms. We never thought that crampons might be useful at this low level. But they might have been, if we had them.
But the rain didn’t last long and the ice eventually gave way to crunchy snow. We were now on the holm by the fishing pools of Wee Beth and Big Beth, and some decided the best option was to cut a corner and cross this holm. But Jimmy and Rex were out for a walk and kept to the longer pathway by the side of the river. We thought they might just want to be alone so left them to it and crossed the field. A cormorant stood on a snow covered boulder in the river like it was frozen to the spot. Rex stopped for a picture. Jimmy walked on to join the rest of us where the path enters the trees by the riverside. Rex joined us a few minutes later.
The path narrowed in the trees for it crossed a steep slope running up from the river and we were strung along it in Indian file. Some ice did patch the path but overall it was good walking until we left the shelter of the trees. We were now on another holm with other fishing holes. Again, the fence was an aid on the slippery ice-covered path.
Perhaps this was where Jimmy sustained the damage; we will never know for sure for even he doesn’t know where it happened. All we know is that when we stopped for coffee in one of the anglers' shelters, blood flowed freely from the back of Jimmy’s hand and dripped into the dry sand. Whether it was to celebrate the impending New Year or to ward off any shock that Jimmy might be experiencing we are not sure but Allan produced a hip flask and proceeded to fortify the coffees with Chevas Regal. Those without coffee, including the injured Jimmy, just took the crature neat. The remedy worked for the blood dried on Jimmy’s hand and not one of us fainted at the sight it. We feel that Allan should bring his hip flask more often – just in case of emergencies like this.
Now, well bolstered against the cold, we set off again.
We crossed the holm to the corner of another wooded slope. Again, the path narrowed as it crossed the slope, and again we were reduced to single file. Nothing as easy as a grassy bank this time though. Cliffs of limestone underpinned by friable shale rose vertically above us on the right, and on the left, the bank fell nearly as steeply into the river. This has never given us a problem before for the path is wide enough and the ground is stable underfoot. But today was different. The path was icy and slippery. New rock falls – the result of the prolonged cold snap?- spilled over it and these also were coated in watery ice. The going was treacherous and a slip here would surely have precipitated the unfortunate into four feet of freezing water. This was surely the most hair-raising part of the walk – so far. However, by carefully finding a rare half-inch of less frozen snow and by grabbing at tree trunks, roots and tussock of lank grass growing out of the shale, we managed to cross our hundred metres of mauvais pas without mishap, much to the relief of everyone. Easier going now brought us to Tarholm Bridge.
Some thought about turning back up the road to Annbank but Bob’s assertion that the path would be ice-free from now on, ‘because it’s through the trees’, brought them back into the fold. We all crossed the bridge to the south side of the river. Robert, with the eye of the artist, saw the watery winter sun light up the snow and reflect in the still water of the river and stopped to photograph it. We look forward to seeing the resultant picture on the blog.
Bob was nearly right in his assertion. For the most part the path was ice-free but, on the rise toward Wallace’s Seat, we came across more of the slippy stuff. This wasn’t nearly as difficult as we had encountered earlier but it was enough to have Allan scrabbling about on all fours trying to avoid a wet bum. Fortunately, most of the group were to the front and missed Allan’s antics but those who witnessed it sympathised in the usual way.
We didn’t stop at Wallace’s Seat – another first for the Ooters – but continued on the low path for Auchincruive. Davie, Robert and Rex set the pace with Allan and Jimmy bringing up the tail. Ian and Ronnie, for reasons known only to them, decided not to follow the leaders on the path but to continue along the old railway but, being hailed from above by the advance group, soon learned the error of their ways. Ian climbed the steep bank to join the rest of us but Ronnie, having nothing to do with such strenuous activity, continued on his way. The rest of us headed down toward the river again.
Rather than risk the icy path beside the river, we took to the field and came to the fishers’ shelter for lunch. Here we found the lost Ronnie. He had taken a shorter way than we had and arrived at the shelter immediately before us. We took our peece in the shelter.
From the shelter to Oswald’s Brig was a matter of fifty metres or so, but icy metres. Again, with a little care we covered the distance without accident. We crossed the brig, and turned right onto the drive of Auchincruive House and immediately found the ice again, even on the tarmac of the drive. But the worst was to come when we left the drive and took to the walkway under the gardens. Wet, rutted ice covered the path between the garden wall and the riverside parapet. It was almost impossible to find secure footing. And totally impossible to avoid the ice. However, by keeping to the edge of the walkway and finding the occasional loose patch in the ice, we slithered our way past the retaining wall and the informal garden to the garden wall. Now came the most difficult part of the entire day. The stone-built stile in the wall was coated in two or three inches of wet ice. Cautiously placing one foot before moving the other and hanging onto the wall as best we could, each took it in turn crossing the stile, being supported, and guided by the others. (Remember, ‘compassion’ is the new watchword of the Ooters) It is pleasing to note, and somewhat surprising given the severity of the obstacle, that all came safely over the stile.
We left our difficulties behind us at the style for we were now back into a wooded area and the ice was less severe; we could almost walk normally. We followed the path past the remains of the old railway, up beside a burn whose name has been forgotten by the scribe and back into Annbank.
We gathered in the ice-covered car park of the Annbank Bowling Club. Some say that the Ooters are old and set in their ways. Today we were to disprove this theory, well at least in part. A momentous decision was made. We would do the walk in the reverse of the way we usually go. Does this foretell a change in the attitude of the Ooters? We will wait and see.
Anyway, slithering our way over the ice of the car park we came to the cleared tarmac of the main road. Walking up the middle of the road seemed the safest option and this is what we did, straggling up the main street and only stepping on to the icy snow to let traffic past. Not that we were a danger to traffic in any way for Davie had his luminous yellow jacket on, a jacket that can probably be seen from the moon on a clear night, so should be eminently visible to oncoming vehicles here on earth. We proceeded in relative safety along the road.
It was noted with some surprise by the cynics that the Christmas tree in the village square, though unguarded, still had all its lights intact. ‘Aye, but ye’re no’ in Kilmaurnock noo’ was the response from our east county man. But full credit must go to the citizens of Annbank for this.
The good walking on tarmac took us through the village to Mill Road. Now we left the safety of the black tarmac and took to the icy Mill Farm track. This runs steeply downhill towards the river and proved extremely tricky today especially to those with Vibram soles. The few spots of rain falling on the ice made it particularly slippy and feet had to be placed judiciously to avoid mishap; on the McGarry scale this was definitely a ten plus. Davie, just to prove the point, decided to demonstrate his old ice skating skills by landing on his arse on the wet ice. Not content with this, he showed us his impression of ‘Dancing on Ice’ as he tried to regain his feet. Did we laugh? Course we did. Wet arse for Davie though.
Allan was being particularly careful on the down slope and the brave/rash/stupid* waited on the more level ground at the foot of the hill for him to catch up. It was now that the rain came seriously and added its wetness to the lying ice. And ice covered the path down to the river. Great care had to be taken once more. Even on the level, feet slipped and slithered, and it was fortunate for us that there was a path-side fence to hang onto or more might have had wet bottoms. We never thought that crampons might be useful at this low level. But they might have been, if we had them.
But the rain didn’t last long and the ice eventually gave way to crunchy snow. We were now on the holm by the fishing pools of Wee Beth and Big Beth, and some decided the best option was to cut a corner and cross this holm. But Jimmy and Rex were out for a walk and kept to the longer pathway by the side of the river. We thought they might just want to be alone so left them to it and crossed the field. A cormorant stood on a snow covered boulder in the river like it was frozen to the spot. Rex stopped for a picture. Jimmy walked on to join the rest of us where the path enters the trees by the riverside. Rex joined us a few minutes later.
The path narrowed in the trees for it crossed a steep slope running up from the river and we were strung along it in Indian file. Some ice did patch the path but overall it was good walking until we left the shelter of the trees. We were now on another holm with other fishing holes. Again, the fence was an aid on the slippery ice-covered path.
Perhaps this was where Jimmy sustained the damage; we will never know for sure for even he doesn’t know where it happened. All we know is that when we stopped for coffee in one of the anglers' shelters, blood flowed freely from the back of Jimmy’s hand and dripped into the dry sand. Whether it was to celebrate the impending New Year or to ward off any shock that Jimmy might be experiencing we are not sure but Allan produced a hip flask and proceeded to fortify the coffees with Chevas Regal. Those without coffee, including the injured Jimmy, just took the crature neat. The remedy worked for the blood dried on Jimmy’s hand and not one of us fainted at the sight it. We feel that Allan should bring his hip flask more often – just in case of emergencies like this.
Now, well bolstered against the cold, we set off again.
We crossed the holm to the corner of another wooded slope. Again, the path narrowed as it crossed the slope, and again we were reduced to single file. Nothing as easy as a grassy bank this time though. Cliffs of limestone underpinned by friable shale rose vertically above us on the right, and on the left, the bank fell nearly as steeply into the river. This has never given us a problem before for the path is wide enough and the ground is stable underfoot. But today was different. The path was icy and slippery. New rock falls – the result of the prolonged cold snap?- spilled over it and these also were coated in watery ice. The going was treacherous and a slip here would surely have precipitated the unfortunate into four feet of freezing water. This was surely the most hair-raising part of the walk – so far. However, by carefully finding a rare half-inch of less frozen snow and by grabbing at tree trunks, roots and tussock of lank grass growing out of the shale, we managed to cross our hundred metres of mauvais pas without mishap, much to the relief of everyone. Easier going now brought us to Tarholm Bridge.
Some thought about turning back up the road to Annbank but Bob’s assertion that the path would be ice-free from now on, ‘because it’s through the trees’, brought them back into the fold. We all crossed the bridge to the south side of the river. Robert, with the eye of the artist, saw the watery winter sun light up the snow and reflect in the still water of the river and stopped to photograph it. We look forward to seeing the resultant picture on the blog.
Bob was nearly right in his assertion. For the most part the path was ice-free but, on the rise toward Wallace’s Seat, we came across more of the slippy stuff. This wasn’t nearly as difficult as we had encountered earlier but it was enough to have Allan scrabbling about on all fours trying to avoid a wet bum. Fortunately, most of the group were to the front and missed Allan’s antics but those who witnessed it sympathised in the usual way.
We didn’t stop at Wallace’s Seat – another first for the Ooters – but continued on the low path for Auchincruive. Davie, Robert and Rex set the pace with Allan and Jimmy bringing up the tail. Ian and Ronnie, for reasons known only to them, decided not to follow the leaders on the path but to continue along the old railway but, being hailed from above by the advance group, soon learned the error of their ways. Ian climbed the steep bank to join the rest of us but Ronnie, having nothing to do with such strenuous activity, continued on his way. The rest of us headed down toward the river again.
Rather than risk the icy path beside the river, we took to the field and came to the fishers’ shelter for lunch. Here we found the lost Ronnie. He had taken a shorter way than we had and arrived at the shelter immediately before us. We took our peece in the shelter.
From the shelter to Oswald’s Brig was a matter of fifty metres or so, but icy metres. Again, with a little care we covered the distance without accident. We crossed the brig, and turned right onto the drive of Auchincruive House and immediately found the ice again, even on the tarmac of the drive. But the worst was to come when we left the drive and took to the walkway under the gardens. Wet, rutted ice covered the path between the garden wall and the riverside parapet. It was almost impossible to find secure footing. And totally impossible to avoid the ice. However, by keeping to the edge of the walkway and finding the occasional loose patch in the ice, we slithered our way past the retaining wall and the informal garden to the garden wall. Now came the most difficult part of the entire day. The stone-built stile in the wall was coated in two or three inches of wet ice. Cautiously placing one foot before moving the other and hanging onto the wall as best we could, each took it in turn crossing the stile, being supported, and guided by the others. (Remember, ‘compassion’ is the new watchword of the Ooters) It is pleasing to note, and somewhat surprising given the severity of the obstacle, that all came safely over the stile.
We left our difficulties behind us at the style for we were now back into a wooded area and the ice was less severe; we could almost walk normally. We followed the path past the remains of the old railway, up beside a burn whose name has been forgotten by the scribe and back into Annbank.
We've done this walk many times before and it has given us no problems in the past. But, given the underfoot conditions today, it was a severe test and we suspect some stiff legs in the morning.
FRT was taken in The Tap O’ The Brae, but this time inside and not on the veranda.
FRT was taken in The Tap O’ The Brae, but this time inside and not on the veranda.
*Delete as you think appropriate.
No comments:
Post a Comment