Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.
Matthew 6:34
Matthew 6:34
The day was fair and lightly overcast, which in itself was something of a disappointment considering the superb clear, frosty days we have had this past week or so. The intention of the day was to do Davie’s ‘four tops’ in Glen Afton. A fresh fall of snow in the early part of the week left the hills gleaming white in the frosty sunshine and we anticipated one of those special days on the tops, the kind that keep the hill men coming out again and again. But the day dawned with thin, high-level cloud obscuring the sun and the forecasters suggesting it would remain for the day. So the day was merely fair and we had to put up with it.
The fishers' car park in Glen Afton was under a few inches of icy snow so we opted not to venture up the wee slope to it but to park just off the waterworks road under some old spruce trees. By the time the auld yins got themselves ready – socks, boots, gaiters, jackets, woolly bunnets and walking poles - the time was wearing on to ten o’clock. In fact it was dead on ten when we started to walk back down the road we had just driven up. The gentlest of breezes began to stir and cool the morning air as we walked down the road towards Blackcraig Farm keeping the pace brisk to warm the blood against the chill.
We decide to do the walk the way we have always done it, i.e. from north to south, not because we have always done it this way but because this is the best way to do it, providing the easier slopes and the best of the views. Despite the disappointment of the weather, the hill country looked superb; a monochrome world of white snow contrasting with the bare black rock of the crag tumbling down into the glen. Only the tussocky reeds growing out of the snow on valley bottom and the dark green of the spruces showed any colour for even the sky itself was white with thin cloud this morning. And our hill looked inviting.
The spirits were high as we walked down the road. Johnny talked computers. Your scribe has to confess that he must be turning into a geek himself for he understood everything Johnny said. Davie, on the other hand, just walked quietly on, humming to himself and occasionally trying to change the subject.
At Blackcraig Farm road we left tarmac and immediately met our first snow of the day, soft and powdery but occasionally overlying older icy stuff. We suspected the snow on top would be just as hard and icy for some of it has lain since before Christmas. We looked forward to it.
As the slope steepened, the snow deepened and the pace was slowed accordingly. Holly was first to reach the gate that would allow us on to the open hillside but was closely followed by the rest of us. We were now on the Victorian pony track between Glen Afton and Dunside in the Kello Valley, a track that would take us high on the shoulder of Blackcraig. We climbed with the track.
At the sheep fank well up the glen side we found the only piece of ground in the whole white world that was free of snow and sat down for coffee. Yes, we know it was early but we always stop here for coffee! We did so again. The day wasn’t as cold as we thought at the start and we were now sheltered from the breeze so the opportunity was taken here to remove jackets. We walked for a fair bit in fleeces for the first time this year.
It was during coffee that Rex noticed Johnny’s gaiters – they were on the wrong legs. Aye, they were on Johnny’s legs right enough, but the left was on the right and vice versa. A rather embarrassed Johnny spent the coffee break changing round his gaiters to the right legs. (Well he would have been embarrassed if we had not all reached the age where embarrassment is a thing of the past.) However, Rex promises to make sure Johnny is properly dressed before we leave the cars in future.
With the coffee finished and Johnny properly attired, we set off up the track again. And as we climbed the snow got deeper. Jimmy led us on the first stage, setting a good pace and finding the shallowest of the snow. The rest of us followed in a crocodile line in his footsteps, literally in his footsteps for the snow was soft powdery and calf-deep. Then Davie took his turn breaking a way through and immediately found the deep stuff, knee deep stuff. Our progress was slowed almost to a crawl. But, with each taking a turn to force a way through the snow, we climbed the track to the cairn on the skyline. Then, as the track swung away eastward towards Dunside, we left it and took to the steepest climb of the day, the shoulder of Blackcraig Hill.
Many were the ‘view-stops’ called as we climbed up the slope, ploughing through the soft snow and crunching it under the boots. And the view was becoming good. Beneath us to the left, Glen Afton ran down to the Ayrshire Plain. To the right Tinto showed itself and to the south of this the radar station on Lowther Hill was easy to identify. And the vista broadened as we climbed higher. Now the hills to the west, Cairnsmore of Carsphairn and Windy Standard, came into view. And, higher yet, the high Galloways showed.
Then, as we approached the top and found the breeze again, a longer halt was made to don jackets again. This was where Jimmy found his latest loss. Jimmy is getting a reputation for losing things; bunnet, specs, phone and wallet have all been mislaid during the last year. Now came another loss, a permanent one this time. When we had stopped for coffee, Jimmy took his camera from the pocket on top of his rucksack. Did he not forget to zip it back up again? Somewhere on the slope underneath where we stood lies a bank money bag with two fivers in it. The day was such that Jimmy was not inclined to go back down the hill to look for it and can only hope that whoever finds it has fun spending the tenner. We will need to make sure Jimmy has everything and has closed everything properly every time we stop.
By this time we were on the broad flat summit of the hill and expected to find the solid snow. We were disappointed. The deep, soft stuff persisted. This was tiring stuff and was slowing us up quite a bit. Well behind schedule, we arrived at the trig point on the summit. Here we ate and took in more of the extensive view. ‘The best thing about the haze is that we don’t need to look at Irvine while we’re eating’ said the Cumnock man quite proud of the fact that we could see his house some nine miles away. No doubt the Irvine men will respond in due course.
Davie reckoned we left the trig point at least an hour behind schedule. We had to be in Cumnock by three for we were to partake of Saidie’s stovies in the Mercat there. The snow on the southern slope was just as soft and deep as before and the going was hard. A summit was held as to whether we go on as planned or drop down the hill to the burn, find the new forest road and come back into the glen that way. Since it was felt that we would be late for stovies if we went on, we decided (Well Jimmy made the decision) to leave the hill.
Whether this was a mistake or not will be open to personal interpretation for the going now was really tough. The snow deepened and the ground fell away in snow-covered ‘doogals’. We came down the slope as best we could, kicking mini avalanches before us and finding unexpected holes and boulders. Johnny found a deep, mucky, wet hole into which to stick his gaitered leg and, for some reason or other Rex thought it a good idea to sit down in the snow. Perhaps they did this to take our minds of the tough going. If this was the case they succeeded but only for a few minutes. Then it was back to the travail.
Light relief came near the burn when a deer was spotted on the other side, bounding seemingly effortlessly through up Steyamara through the deep snow. We envied it. Alan was the one to spot the other deer near the crest of the ridge and we watched as the two came together. But this relief was only temporary for we had to cross some rough stuff again.
Stumbling and slipping, we came through the new plantation. We never thought that walking us a forest sheugh would be the easier option but it was, even when the bottom turned to icy brown sludge. Jimmy unexpectedly found the boulder with his backside. Bruised and battered was he, but he was able to stumble on. As we all did. Eventually, and much to our relief, we found the forest road. Though it too was cover in snow, it was smooth by comparison with what we had come through and provided the first easy walking since we left Blackcraig Farm this morning.
We followed the forest road to Craig, crossed the Afton by a bridge and came back to the tarmac at Craigdarroch. Now we only had a mile or so of easy upward walking to get back to the fisher’s car park and the cars. Though it was somewhat disappointing not to have done the horseshoe, the words of St.Matthew ring true for the day. The right decision had been made for each had had enough.
We repaired to the Mercat in Cumnock for FRT, just in time to savour Sadie’s welcome stovies. Much appreciated, Sadie, and many thanks.
The fishers' car park in Glen Afton was under a few inches of icy snow so we opted not to venture up the wee slope to it but to park just off the waterworks road under some old spruce trees. By the time the auld yins got themselves ready – socks, boots, gaiters, jackets, woolly bunnets and walking poles - the time was wearing on to ten o’clock. In fact it was dead on ten when we started to walk back down the road we had just driven up. The gentlest of breezes began to stir and cool the morning air as we walked down the road towards Blackcraig Farm keeping the pace brisk to warm the blood against the chill.
We decide to do the walk the way we have always done it, i.e. from north to south, not because we have always done it this way but because this is the best way to do it, providing the easier slopes and the best of the views. Despite the disappointment of the weather, the hill country looked superb; a monochrome world of white snow contrasting with the bare black rock of the crag tumbling down into the glen. Only the tussocky reeds growing out of the snow on valley bottom and the dark green of the spruces showed any colour for even the sky itself was white with thin cloud this morning. And our hill looked inviting.
The spirits were high as we walked down the road. Johnny talked computers. Your scribe has to confess that he must be turning into a geek himself for he understood everything Johnny said. Davie, on the other hand, just walked quietly on, humming to himself and occasionally trying to change the subject.
At Blackcraig Farm road we left tarmac and immediately met our first snow of the day, soft and powdery but occasionally overlying older icy stuff. We suspected the snow on top would be just as hard and icy for some of it has lain since before Christmas. We looked forward to it.
As the slope steepened, the snow deepened and the pace was slowed accordingly. Holly was first to reach the gate that would allow us on to the open hillside but was closely followed by the rest of us. We were now on the Victorian pony track between Glen Afton and Dunside in the Kello Valley, a track that would take us high on the shoulder of Blackcraig. We climbed with the track.
At the sheep fank well up the glen side we found the only piece of ground in the whole white world that was free of snow and sat down for coffee. Yes, we know it was early but we always stop here for coffee! We did so again. The day wasn’t as cold as we thought at the start and we were now sheltered from the breeze so the opportunity was taken here to remove jackets. We walked for a fair bit in fleeces for the first time this year.
It was during coffee that Rex noticed Johnny’s gaiters – they were on the wrong legs. Aye, they were on Johnny’s legs right enough, but the left was on the right and vice versa. A rather embarrassed Johnny spent the coffee break changing round his gaiters to the right legs. (Well he would have been embarrassed if we had not all reached the age where embarrassment is a thing of the past.) However, Rex promises to make sure Johnny is properly dressed before we leave the cars in future.
With the coffee finished and Johnny properly attired, we set off up the track again. And as we climbed the snow got deeper. Jimmy led us on the first stage, setting a good pace and finding the shallowest of the snow. The rest of us followed in a crocodile line in his footsteps, literally in his footsteps for the snow was soft powdery and calf-deep. Then Davie took his turn breaking a way through and immediately found the deep stuff, knee deep stuff. Our progress was slowed almost to a crawl. But, with each taking a turn to force a way through the snow, we climbed the track to the cairn on the skyline. Then, as the track swung away eastward towards Dunside, we left it and took to the steepest climb of the day, the shoulder of Blackcraig Hill.
Many were the ‘view-stops’ called as we climbed up the slope, ploughing through the soft snow and crunching it under the boots. And the view was becoming good. Beneath us to the left, Glen Afton ran down to the Ayrshire Plain. To the right Tinto showed itself and to the south of this the radar station on Lowther Hill was easy to identify. And the vista broadened as we climbed higher. Now the hills to the west, Cairnsmore of Carsphairn and Windy Standard, came into view. And, higher yet, the high Galloways showed.
Then, as we approached the top and found the breeze again, a longer halt was made to don jackets again. This was where Jimmy found his latest loss. Jimmy is getting a reputation for losing things; bunnet, specs, phone and wallet have all been mislaid during the last year. Now came another loss, a permanent one this time. When we had stopped for coffee, Jimmy took his camera from the pocket on top of his rucksack. Did he not forget to zip it back up again? Somewhere on the slope underneath where we stood lies a bank money bag with two fivers in it. The day was such that Jimmy was not inclined to go back down the hill to look for it and can only hope that whoever finds it has fun spending the tenner. We will need to make sure Jimmy has everything and has closed everything properly every time we stop.
By this time we were on the broad flat summit of the hill and expected to find the solid snow. We were disappointed. The deep, soft stuff persisted. This was tiring stuff and was slowing us up quite a bit. Well behind schedule, we arrived at the trig point on the summit. Here we ate and took in more of the extensive view. ‘The best thing about the haze is that we don’t need to look at Irvine while we’re eating’ said the Cumnock man quite proud of the fact that we could see his house some nine miles away. No doubt the Irvine men will respond in due course.
Davie reckoned we left the trig point at least an hour behind schedule. We had to be in Cumnock by three for we were to partake of Saidie’s stovies in the Mercat there. The snow on the southern slope was just as soft and deep as before and the going was hard. A summit was held as to whether we go on as planned or drop down the hill to the burn, find the new forest road and come back into the glen that way. Since it was felt that we would be late for stovies if we went on, we decided (Well Jimmy made the decision) to leave the hill.
Whether this was a mistake or not will be open to personal interpretation for the going now was really tough. The snow deepened and the ground fell away in snow-covered ‘doogals’. We came down the slope as best we could, kicking mini avalanches before us and finding unexpected holes and boulders. Johnny found a deep, mucky, wet hole into which to stick his gaitered leg and, for some reason or other Rex thought it a good idea to sit down in the snow. Perhaps they did this to take our minds of the tough going. If this was the case they succeeded but only for a few minutes. Then it was back to the travail.
Light relief came near the burn when a deer was spotted on the other side, bounding seemingly effortlessly through up Steyamara through the deep snow. We envied it. Alan was the one to spot the other deer near the crest of the ridge and we watched as the two came together. But this relief was only temporary for we had to cross some rough stuff again.
Stumbling and slipping, we came through the new plantation. We never thought that walking us a forest sheugh would be the easier option but it was, even when the bottom turned to icy brown sludge. Jimmy unexpectedly found the boulder with his backside. Bruised and battered was he, but he was able to stumble on. As we all did. Eventually, and much to our relief, we found the forest road. Though it too was cover in snow, it was smooth by comparison with what we had come through and provided the first easy walking since we left Blackcraig Farm this morning.
We followed the forest road to Craig, crossed the Afton by a bridge and came back to the tarmac at Craigdarroch. Now we only had a mile or so of easy upward walking to get back to the fisher’s car park and the cars. Though it was somewhat disappointing not to have done the horseshoe, the words of St.Matthew ring true for the day. The right decision had been made for each had had enough.
We repaired to the Mercat in Cumnock for FRT, just in time to savour Sadie’s welcome stovies. Much appreciated, Sadie, and many thanks.
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