Allan, Jimmy, Johnny, Malcolm, Paul, Rex, Robert
Seven stalwarts sojourned south to Sanquhar. Why we should have gone anywhere though, given the rains of the night, the overcast sky and the threat from the met office of more rain through the day is way beyond reason. But we went to Sanquhar to investigate Rex’s new walk, optimism overcoming discretion once more.
The Southern Uplands Way comes through Sanquhar somewhere but we weren’t sure exactly where. Jimmy had a vague notion that it was towards the south end of the town so we set off in search of it in that airt. Luckily we bumped into a local fellow who pointed us in the right way. Good job too that he was walking his dog in this road for the sign for The Way was high on a wall and hidden from us coming in this direction. Are the Dumfriesshirers trying to prevent good Ayrshire folk from finding The Way? Anyway our Good Samaritan pointed us in the right direction and we wandered under the railway bridge and out into the country.
We had just started to climb away from the town when the first rain came, sweeping down Nithsdale in a dirty grey mass driven on by a freshening breeze. Even those who were silly enough to start off without waterproofs donned them now for the rain was threatening to get serious. They were to stay on for the rest of the walk.
There was no stopping for views as we climbed the Coo’s Wynd up onto Sanquhar Moor; there was no point for the rain obscured everything beyond a mile or so and that which wasn’t hidden was a washed out version of itself. We plodded on, upward towards the hills that form the eastern boundary of Nithsdale. At least the rain was on our backs and it appeared to be lessening as we climbed onto the moor. And the path levelled out. Things were looking better, not much better but better.
The path is well constructed and way-markers make it easy to follow. Only once were we offered any sort of challenge. The path dropped off the moor into the shallow and soggy valley of the Loch Burn where, for fifty metres or so, tufts of rushes grew in wet slimy earth and puddles. Where these gave way to deep patches of sphagnum or open water, boardwalks have been constructed but over the years these have been twisted and tilted off the level and are coated with slimy green algae. Today they presented us with extremely treacherous footing. With a little judicious placing of feet and careful transfer of weight, considerable weight in some instances, all crossed safely even if one or two chose to jump the burn rather than cross the last one.
A style in the fence fifty yards beyond the burn saw us on to the service road for Bogg Farm and fifty yards along this we took the branch for Brandleys. We were to stay on this road for around quarter of a mile as it climbed slowly round the corner of a plantation. Then we left it and took to the open hillside over a style on a drystane dyke.
The path still rose gently to the top of Coupland Knowe. There must be a view of sorts from this point but, though we could see where the Lowthers rose from Nithsdale, there was no sign of the hills themselves. Nor was there much of a view over the dale either for there was more rain sweeping in from the west. So ignoring the possibilities of views, we turned our backs to the weather and pushed on.
We could see the path rising steeply in front of us, a dark scar on the hillside rising up the snout of a rounded ridge, and before long we were rising steeply with it. It took us to our highest point of the day, a col between Conrig Hill to the north and Glendyne Hill to the south, a col that seemed an ideal place for coffee. Barely had we settled for coffee when the rain hit. Though our col wasn’t particularly high, at around the fourteen hundred contour it was high enough to feel the strength of the westerly wind and high enough to turn some of the rain to hail. We took coffee with our backs to the fresh wind, looking down into the next sodden valley and listening to the wind-driven, hail-salted rain battering on waterproof hoods.
The prospect didn’t look good – the valley in front of us brooded darkly through the rain and the sky showed no signs of breaking up. A decision was made. (We are getting better at these decision things.) Discretion seeming the better part of valour, we would retreat for the day and leave the walk for another. So back down the path we came, back to Coupland Knowe and guess what? Yes, the rain went and the sky lifted. But it lifted only sufficiently to show the other side of Nithsdale and Blackcraig at Glen Afton still gloomily grey under heavy cloud.
Back down the Coupland Knowe and back over the drystane dyke we came. Somebody suggested lunch and we found a comfortable spot on the lip of an old, shallow quarry and settled down to eat.
On the outward journey we came across a sign pointing along a level path to Black Loch four hundred and ten metres away. The leading trio of Jimmy, Paul and Rex opted to take in the Black loch. It turns out that this is open water to the extent of half a football pitch with a reedy island near the western end. A notice pinned to a board told us that this was an SSSI and that when the loch was partially drained in 1861 a log boat and a crannog were discovered. We could see why the loch was of historical interest but why it should be of scientific interest, we couldn’t quite fathom out. Perhaps we will need to return in the summer to find out.
When the trio returned to the path the rest had gone on ahead. We were not to come together again until we reached the cars in Sanquhar.
This was an unfortunate day with the weather but the walk looks good and it has been added to the ‘to do’ list for the spring of the year.
As is our wont, the Crown in Sanquhar provided the FRT today, the second time in a fortnight that we have been here.
Seven stalwarts sojourned south to Sanquhar. Why we should have gone anywhere though, given the rains of the night, the overcast sky and the threat from the met office of more rain through the day is way beyond reason. But we went to Sanquhar to investigate Rex’s new walk, optimism overcoming discretion once more.
The Southern Uplands Way comes through Sanquhar somewhere but we weren’t sure exactly where. Jimmy had a vague notion that it was towards the south end of the town so we set off in search of it in that airt. Luckily we bumped into a local fellow who pointed us in the right way. Good job too that he was walking his dog in this road for the sign for The Way was high on a wall and hidden from us coming in this direction. Are the Dumfriesshirers trying to prevent good Ayrshire folk from finding The Way? Anyway our Good Samaritan pointed us in the right direction and we wandered under the railway bridge and out into the country.
We had just started to climb away from the town when the first rain came, sweeping down Nithsdale in a dirty grey mass driven on by a freshening breeze. Even those who were silly enough to start off without waterproofs donned them now for the rain was threatening to get serious. They were to stay on for the rest of the walk.
There was no stopping for views as we climbed the Coo’s Wynd up onto Sanquhar Moor; there was no point for the rain obscured everything beyond a mile or so and that which wasn’t hidden was a washed out version of itself. We plodded on, upward towards the hills that form the eastern boundary of Nithsdale. At least the rain was on our backs and it appeared to be lessening as we climbed onto the moor. And the path levelled out. Things were looking better, not much better but better.
The path is well constructed and way-markers make it easy to follow. Only once were we offered any sort of challenge. The path dropped off the moor into the shallow and soggy valley of the Loch Burn where, for fifty metres or so, tufts of rushes grew in wet slimy earth and puddles. Where these gave way to deep patches of sphagnum or open water, boardwalks have been constructed but over the years these have been twisted and tilted off the level and are coated with slimy green algae. Today they presented us with extremely treacherous footing. With a little judicious placing of feet and careful transfer of weight, considerable weight in some instances, all crossed safely even if one or two chose to jump the burn rather than cross the last one.
A style in the fence fifty yards beyond the burn saw us on to the service road for Bogg Farm and fifty yards along this we took the branch for Brandleys. We were to stay on this road for around quarter of a mile as it climbed slowly round the corner of a plantation. Then we left it and took to the open hillside over a style on a drystane dyke.
The path still rose gently to the top of Coupland Knowe. There must be a view of sorts from this point but, though we could see where the Lowthers rose from Nithsdale, there was no sign of the hills themselves. Nor was there much of a view over the dale either for there was more rain sweeping in from the west. So ignoring the possibilities of views, we turned our backs to the weather and pushed on.
We could see the path rising steeply in front of us, a dark scar on the hillside rising up the snout of a rounded ridge, and before long we were rising steeply with it. It took us to our highest point of the day, a col between Conrig Hill to the north and Glendyne Hill to the south, a col that seemed an ideal place for coffee. Barely had we settled for coffee when the rain hit. Though our col wasn’t particularly high, at around the fourteen hundred contour it was high enough to feel the strength of the westerly wind and high enough to turn some of the rain to hail. We took coffee with our backs to the fresh wind, looking down into the next sodden valley and listening to the wind-driven, hail-salted rain battering on waterproof hoods.
The prospect didn’t look good – the valley in front of us brooded darkly through the rain and the sky showed no signs of breaking up. A decision was made. (We are getting better at these decision things.) Discretion seeming the better part of valour, we would retreat for the day and leave the walk for another. So back down the path we came, back to Coupland Knowe and guess what? Yes, the rain went and the sky lifted. But it lifted only sufficiently to show the other side of Nithsdale and Blackcraig at Glen Afton still gloomily grey under heavy cloud.
Back down the Coupland Knowe and back over the drystane dyke we came. Somebody suggested lunch and we found a comfortable spot on the lip of an old, shallow quarry and settled down to eat.
On the outward journey we came across a sign pointing along a level path to Black Loch four hundred and ten metres away. The leading trio of Jimmy, Paul and Rex opted to take in the Black loch. It turns out that this is open water to the extent of half a football pitch with a reedy island near the western end. A notice pinned to a board told us that this was an SSSI and that when the loch was partially drained in 1861 a log boat and a crannog were discovered. We could see why the loch was of historical interest but why it should be of scientific interest, we couldn’t quite fathom out. Perhaps we will need to return in the summer to find out.
When the trio returned to the path the rest had gone on ahead. We were not to come together again until we reached the cars in Sanquhar.
This was an unfortunate day with the weather but the walk looks good and it has been added to the ‘to do’ list for the spring of the year.
As is our wont, the Crown in Sanquhar provided the FRT today, the second time in a fortnight that we have been here.
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