Alan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Jimmy, Paul,
Peter, Rex & Robert
It has been said before but I will say
it again anyway. There are walks which, for many and varied reasons, we have
only done once and there are walks which we have done again and again and again.
The Ness Glen walk is one of the latter, for its variety of scenery and easy
walking will hardly be beaten anywhere. And it was to the ness Glen that we
turned our steps this morning.
Due to a misunderstanding – (Now, why
does this not surprise anybody? – Ed.) –, a misunderstanding about the works on
the dam at Loch Doon, we started our walk in a different place this morning, in
the car park at The Promised Land. And, just to make our lives even more
interesting, we decided to do the walk in the opposite direction from usual.
So, ten o’clock saw us leave the car
park and take the estate road for Craigengillan. The wildlife had already been
busy with midgies biting viciously in the warm, damp air as soon as we left the
cars. Now swallows and martins swooped on unsuspecting insects over the ponds
under Bellsbank and warblers sang in the trees along the side of the road.
Though the sun stayed hidden there was a hint of brightness in the sky and the
damp air seemed to be drying somewhat. We walked, on enjoying the morning. Just
where the road crosses the river we left tarmac and took the old track under
Bellsbank to come to the bridge at the foot of the Ness Glen.
The footbridge here is in a sorry
state with planks missing and others rotting. However bravely, or foolishly, we
crossed the footbridge and climbed through the trees, past Tracy’s bench to the
path on the Brackney Brae, above the Crags of Ness. Again the bird song cheered
us though the woodland with our resident ornithologist hearing but failing to
see a wood warbler. And he failed to spot the spotted flycatcher that a couple
had been watching just before our noisy approach. Then the path dropped and we
found ourselves at the face of Loch Doon Dam. A short hundred metres or so and
we were at The Roundhouse Café overlooking the loch.
The loch was not the only thing that
the café is overlooking now. A scope set up at the door was trained on the
nesting ospreys and we had a good look though to see the birds, the first
ospreys to nest in Ayrshire for a hundred years or so. But we didn’t stop long
at the café; we walked down to a rocky outcrop beside the loch for elevenses.
|
In the Ness Glen |
We came down through the gorge after
coffee. The river was running quite full today and the roar of the water in the
gorge drowned out normal conversation. We
contented ourselves with the occasional shout and watching the black water rush
and gush, dash and splash, pour and roar, lunging and plunging before idling
and sidling into black pools flecked with white foam. (Aw the nice! Now get on with the narrative
–Ed.) Suddenly, and unexpectedly for Gus who was making his first trip through
the Ness Glen, the roaring stopped and the waters flowed smoothly and we were
out of the gorge and back at the footbridge over the river.
Now we turned or steps towards the
house of Craigengillan delighting in how the owner has opened up the estate for
leisure use so allowing us to walk past the house and on to the main drive.
Again we weren’t on tarmac too long. Leaving the drive on the old Newton
Stewart turnpike, we came out of the wood and onto the open moor towards the
ruined hamlet of Barbeth. Here on the high ground overlooking Bogton Loch and
the Doon Valley, on bench for three and short grass for the rest, we stopped
for a bite. Though it wasn’t the brightest of days, we sat looking out over the
valley and planning walks on the far side of it, towards Ben Beoch one day.
Someday! Someday soon? Watch this space!
From Barbeth we crossed the high
moor to come to the ruins of Nether Barbeth where the old turnpike heads over
the hill towards Knockdon. We left it to do so and turned downhill to the
bridge over the Dalcarnie Burn and looked down on Dalcairnie Linn. We had a
brief stop beside the linn while Gus was introduced to this gem of a place
hidden in the hinterland of Ayrshire. He was suitably impressed. But we were
under midgie attack again so moved on.
|
Peter at Dalcairnie Linn |
Some chose to take the road down
past the farm while some opted for the path beside the burn. Those who opted
for the latter wished they hadn’t bothered for the grass was long and wet. But
the grass path didn’t last long and all were soon back on tarmac. Now our way
lay along the road on the west side of Bogton Loch, a narrow road that would
take us to the Straiton road. It was along this road that the first spots of
rain for the day hit us and rain jackets were donned. But the rain lasted no
time at all and by the time we were crossing the Doon to the Straiton road, it
had gone and would stay gone for the day.
There was nothing left for us to do
now but to saunter along the path beside the Muck water and come back to the
cars at Dalmellington. Another good day’s
walking was rounded of by taking FRT in our usual howff, The Dalmellington Inn.