Some images of the Loudoun Hill walk

Loudoun Hill 3 July

Alan McQ, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Iain, Ian, Johnny, Malcolm, Rex

Many thanks to Davie and Kay for the coffee and scones, and to Holly for cleaning the plates. Much appreciated!

The day was dry with no hint of rain as we made our way to the entrance to Lanfine, but turned left to follow the Long Cairn Walk. It had been a wee while since most of us had done this walk, but it soon came back to us as familiar landmarks were reached. We took a few minutes to talk to a farmer rushing to get his silage in before the forecast rain of tomorrow and tried to convince him that the chances of rain were slim, but he wasn’t taking any chances. Further on, at Saughall (where the wee weather station is), time was taken to speak to Mike Chalton. He is well known to Alan and to Davie Mc and whilst Alan and Mike blethered the rest of us admired his Pinzgauer 6x6 truck.

The spirit of the Ooters

Lunch was taken at the benches close to the Spirit of Scotland sculpture where copious amounts of sweeties appeared for the delectation and sustenance of the assembled company. From there, Allan, Johnny and Malcolm kept Davie C company by going around the base of the hill whilst the rest went up the front before eventually rejoining the four who had been waiting patiently on the road.
Underfoot conditions had been dry, so we didn’t expect any issues on the old railway track back towards Darvel. However, the last mile or so proved to be more difficult than it should have been due to the path being overgrown with nettles, brambles and vegetation in general. How often have we complained in the past about lack of maintenance on publicised walking trails. The guys in shorts had a great time!
Having emerged from the undergrowth, we walked back into Darvel and took the path up to the park, and back to the cars. Four hours and thirty-five minutes was the call for our ten-miler.
FRT was taken at the Black Bull in Darvel, where Davie C and others took the sting out of their day (literally) by making it a three-pint day. All things considered, though, this had been a good day out, and whilst some of us were feeling tired, we thought of Alan, who had cycled to Darvel to join us and was about to cycle back to Ayr. Good effort!

Just like Uluru!

Images of the walk up Loudoun Hill

featuring Alan McQ, Allan, Davie C, Davie McM,  Gus, Iain, Ian, Johnnie, Malcolm and Rex.

Photos from Loudon Hill, 11 May

Loudoun Hill 12 June

Tunnel vision

Are there too many people on the hill for Peter?

Summit meeting

The glaur at the bridge causes a problem

Peece at last

Oldest swinger in town

Loudoun Hill, Tuesday

A few Pictures of Loudoun Hill this morning

snowy walk

13 October Darvel to Loudoun Hill and Back

Distance 15.8 km (the map was prepared earlier (2/12/09))

Alan, Allan, Davie, Jimmy, Johnny, Paul & Robert

After our sojourn in Mosset last week, here we were back in familiar territory. Seven of us gathered at Davie’s place in Darvel – well, eight of us gathered there but Peter was only there for the coffee so that left seven for the walk.
The mid-October weather could have been worse but equally it could have been better. A thin fog hung in the still air and showed no sign of shifting. Everything beyond a couple of hundred metres faded into greyness, a greyness that was to stay for the day. We walked up the south side of the Irvine valley as we have done before many times but it could have been anywhere for all we could see in the fog.
Only one incident is worth recording on this outward leg. As we came down the field-side track towards High Greenbank Farm we came across three men. A younger man was busy digging a hole by hand. A second young fellow leant against a fence post lending advice and the older fellow crouched watching the hole digger. We stopped to pass the time of day. The older fellow, somebody around our own age was the boss. He was also something of a wag. After a few minutes a young lady left a land rover parked up the field and walked down towards us. ‘It’s my granddaughter coming down to see what dirty auld men look like’, said the wag. How well he judged us. After a few more minutes and a few more comments from the wag, we walked on into the fog.
We stopped beyond the Long Cairn for coffee in the hope that the fog might lift and we would get some sort of view from Loudoun Hill. It didn’t and we walked on into it.
We were barely quarter of a mile from the base of the hill when there was a slight clearing in the fog, a clearing that showed us the shadowy base of the hill but still hid the summit in grey clag. Even when we reached The Spirit of Scotland the top was still hidden from us. Still, we climbed into it.
There was some sort of view from the top as the fog continued to rise slowly. Now we could at least see the car park and as far as Loudoun Hill Inn. But anything beyond half a mile was lost to us. We took the peece on the top of the hill.
The return journey on the old railway produced two interesting bits. We reached a high banking over a burn valley. ‘Have you ever been in the tunnel?’ asked Davie. Nobody had, yet only Paul and Jimmy opted to accompany Davie on the adventure. The trio dropped down the banking to the side of the burn and the entrance to a seventy metre long, blue-brick tunnel carrying the burn under the banking. The brick also formed the floor of it. It was tall enough to admit even Paul and broad enough to have dry walking on either side of the burn today. The trio entered and walked carefully, feeling their way in the dark towards the spot of light at the other end. Once through, the return journey was easier for there seemed to be more light-spill in this direction. Into daylight once more, the trio rejoined the old railway and chased after the rest.
The rest of us walked along the railway and waited for the cavers at a seat overlooking the Irvine. A couple of fellows with blue plastic containers were guddling in the waters of the Irvine with what looked like stun-guns. ‘They’re stunning the salmon to strip them of their eggs to be taken to the hatchery’, said Alan our fisherman. We saw no reason to argue with him for he knows things, does Alan. As sat and watched we were re-joined by the cavers. Now, as a group we continued the walk on the old railway back into Darvel.
This was a walk in familiar territory. It’s just a pity that we didn’t get views today. Still, there’s always next time.
The Black Bull in Darvel provided FRT for us today.

Loudoun Hill 13 Oct 2010

2 December Loudoun Hill - Fourth Visit

(photo taken 30/11/2009 as the sun was sinking)

The view from Loudoun Hill wasn’t as nearly as impressive today as it has been on previous visits, the overcast sky and the damp conditions cutting the distance to a few miles. Still, it was good enough for a view westward down the Irvine Valley to the flatter ground around Killie, northward over the Darvel Moor to the wind farm of Whitelees and eastward to Drumclog and Strathaven. In the south, Blacksidend and Wedder Hill filled most of the skyline with Cairntable at Muirkirk forming the rest. But there were no Afton Hills, Arran or the southern Highland hills today. Yet, we enjoyed our time on the top, resting in the lea of a rocky outcrop, taking a bite of peece and taking in what landscape was shown to us.
We had come to the hill by the south side of the Irvine valley, leaving Davie’s in Darvel around nine thirty. Nine of us gathered at Davie’s before taking to the road in light-hearted mood. Already Jimmy was getting it in the neck from all directions for his newfound sartorial elegance.
‘Ooh, new trousers!’
‘Nah! Old trousers, just that you haven’t seen them before’.
‘New shirt?’
‘Nah! Same reason’
‘New stick?’
‘Well, I have got a sair knee’
‘New Grandpa bunnet’
He had to concede there. Walking stick, Grandpa bunnet, it seems Jimmy is turning into an auld man and he took some stick for it. It was suggested the pipe and slippers would come next. And all this before we’d even left Darvel.
We did leave the town shortly after leaving Davie’s, crossed the bridge to the south side of the river and took the road eastward toward the top of the valley.
The walk up the south side of the valley is interesting for the variety of terrain and scenery. We started off on a road beside a wood, climbing above and away from the river to the new house at Bankhouse. Compassion is the new watchword of the Ooters and compassion was felt for Jimmy who hobbled on the climb. ‘You’d be better with twa sticks’ was the consensus. ‘Then we could call you Two Sticks Jimmy’, said Bob. There ended the compassion. Two Sticks Jimmy hobbled on.
Then a track through the open fields brought us down to Greenside and a wee bridge over the Gower Water. We turned into the burn-side trees at the bridge and came along a path beside the burn to find tarmac again after a few hundred metres. This brought us to the farm of Bransfield. Turning right here, we followed tarmac to the Mason’s Brig. Davie, he with the local knowledge, was asked why the Masonic compass and square were carved into the parapet. We were disappointed. He didn’t have an answer, not even a made up one. And we like a good story whether true or not.
The tarmac climbed away from the bridge. Did I say Two Sticks hobbled? There he was, at the front on the climb, setting the pace with Robert and Davie. And a fair old pace they set. At least they had the ‘compassion’ to wait on the high ground at Loanfoot for the rest of us to catch up. Now Loudoun Hill looked impressive, showing its rugged face to us. And we walked on towards it from Loanfoot; on by the Long Cairn and the footbridge over the Gower again; over the high grazing of Parbeth and nearer to the craggy face of the hill.
(the Spirit of Scotland monument by Richard Price, taken on 9/2/2009)
We stopped before the hill, at the Spirit of Scotland monument placed under the hill to commemorate both Wallace’s and Bruce’s victories here in Scotland’s struggle for independence, for the sculpture just had to be inspected and admired. We looked at the monument with different eyes. The artists admired the concept and construction. The historian picked out the historical meanings of the carvings. The poets recognised the patriotic words of Scott, Burns and Blin’ Harry.
‘At Wallace’s name what Scottish blood,
But boils up in spring-like flood?’
Our tame Englishman said very little.
Whatever way we looked at it, the monument is an outstanding piece of work and very appropriate to its surroundings. We spent a few minutes here but then took to the hill itself.
The lame one was asked if he wanted to climb the hill or go round the side. Allan was relieved when he opted for the top even slower o the climbs than he was. The two were kept company by Johnny while the rest walked on, halted until they caught up, and then walked on again. This happened more than once, ‘compassion’ coming to the fore again. Some opted for the quick, steep ascent while those with more sense (or sair knees) chose the longer route. But, whichever route was chosen, we all reached the top, sat down in the lea of a rocky outcrop, took a bite of peece and took in what landscape was shown to us.
The descent was by the easier, grassy northwestern slope and through the beeches there. If it was Jimmy’s turn to be the butt of the comments on the way towards the hill, it was Davie’s turn now. He had warned us that the slope would be slippy. When we reached a rocky step, he compounded his error by announcing that the ground was slippy here. And it was. So it was further down and the general cry went up, ‘Watch out, slippy bit!’ ‘Slippy bits’, were now announced to Davie on a regular basis as the walk progressed, particularly when we gained the old railway and styles separated fields. Thus began the McGarry scale of slipperiness.
Each style was given a numerical grading by Robert according to slipperiness. A level one is just a slight ‘oops’ as a foot slips an inch or so; level ten is a complete down on the a*** job. The rest are somewhere in between and yet to be defined but we did get level four shouted at us as he made his way over another. And it was by climbing styles of different degrees of slippiness and avoiding mucky sections where the cows had been, that we made our way back along the old railway towards Darvel.
We did stop once, ‘compassion’ coming on us once more. For some reason Johnny struggled and we waited compassionately for him to catch up. And we waited compassionately for him to recover. Then we walked on.
We came back to Darvel, turned down the side of the Glen Water and came back to Davie’s around two having had another pleasant walk in the Valley. Then it was over to the Black Bull for FRT.

2 December: Loudoun Hill route

Distance: 15.8 km

Loudoun Hill in snow

David and Holly were up Loudoun Hill today.

Darvel, Loudoun Hill, Hogmanay 2008

Season's Greetings readers.

In the absence of him whit writes (poems as well) I was bullied into writing some small account of the walk on Hogmanay, 2008. Allan, Johnny and Robert met at Davies, Darvel. Kay furnished lemon sponge and coffee which helped settle a dicky tummy (the writer of this piece trying to empty a third full bottle of Martini on Tuesday night – this is also the reason why today’s walk was changed at the last minute from Durisdeer to Darvel – cut down the long car journey – but to the tale). The day was to remain grey and cold with hardly a breeze(until the top of the hill). We set out walking up the south side of the valley out beyond the sand quarries and then turned across the main road towards the car park for the picnic area besides the monument to Wallace. From this vantage this volcanic plug impresses. Dropping down to cross the stream that is to become the Irvine the climb threatens, but guided by he who has done this thousands of times we made a quick and easy ascent – 25 minutes from the monument to the trig point at the top(Davie reckons he took 15 minutes in his prime). The remains of our pack lunches having been finished off we set off towards Darvel along the north side of the valley. Cattle have churned up much of the walk that trails the old railway line. The frozen ground saved us from ankle deep mud but made the footing tricky. It seemed no time before we had gained the outskirts of Darvel but unbeknown to us the main street in Darvel had been lengthened by about 2 'Jimmy' miles since we set out that morning – well it certainly felt that way! Eventually we made the Black Bull. A relaxing libation, bonhomie all round, crisps! Not a bad way to spend part of the last day of 2008.

30 April Irvine Valley

Not a lot can be said about today’s outing. As can be deduced from the lack of pictures, it was a walk in the rain. The intention was to travel through to Moffat for a high level route round Loch Skein. But, when the five of us - Peter was busy, Johnny was still hobbling around on crutches and Rex was in sunnier climes - gathered at Davie’s in Darvel the sky was lowering and heavy with expected rain. Paul, our weather man, said rain wasn’t to clear Moffat till around half past two . ‘I don’t fancy going that distance to get a soaking’, said one. ‘We can stay local and get a soaking’, commented another. So the resolution to stay nearer home was adopted and Davie’s suggestion of Loudoun Hill was accepted. Then the rain came on. It came straight down for there was barely a stir in the air, but it did come down. Waterproofs were worn from the off.
We left Darvel by taking the bridge at the end of Ranoldcoup Road. This took us to the south side of the river where we turned east on the road that runs upstream. Robert, who had just given us all a row for the speed at which we’ve walked over the last few weeks, had to check himself here for he, with Jimmy, found himself fifty yards in front of the others on the first short climb. But, after giving himself a severe talking to, he managed to stay with us for the rest of the walk. We walked on as a group.
The new house at Greenbank was commented on for we have watched it from construction and it is now occupied. This is where the tarmac ran out and we took to a track. Davie warned that it would be mucky in this weather but the ground was firm for the weather has been dry of late and only the top inch gave under the weight and the walking was not as bad as Davie expected. And, at the top of the hill, we could see our target hill in the distance, misty through the rain but visible nevertheless. We walked towards it, dropping into the valley to find tarmac again to thw south of Bransfield.
Came a cattle grid on the road. Robert, pointing to a deep bending in the grid where something heavy had crossed, commented, ‘You’ve come this way before then, Davie.’ Davie was hurt to the marrow. This comment and others of similar vane were the only thing to brighten the day for the rain was now incessant and the breeze was rising.
We came to Loanfoot where tarmac ran out again and the track by the Long Cairn was followed. Jimmy asked what were the chances of crossing the burn under Loudoun Hill given the present weather. Davie said there was now a bridge. There was supposed to be a bridge built over the burn at Long Cairn for the walking festival but this hasn’t been done yet. We turned the corner and there was the bridge that wasn’t built yet. We crossed this bridge that wasn’t there and came over the moor to the weather station. The wind was now in our faces and the rain was stinging.
When we found tarmac again a summit was called and it was decided, in the present miserable conditions, to cut the walk short. We stayed on tarmac and dropped into the valley at Priestland. The rain did ease as we came into Darvel but it didn’t halt. We followed the path down the side of the burn and the river to come back to the bridge at Ranoldcoup Road.
A much shorter and considerably wetter walk than we’ve been used to for a while. Internal wetness was supplied by the bar of the Black Bull.