Arran 20 June 2012

Allan, Andy, Davie, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Paul, Rex

‘I’ll tak the high road and you tak the low road’

Schism : division into opposing groups because of a difference in belief or opinion, especially in a religious body. Well that’s us then!

Seven Ooters were discussing whether Jimmy had slept in again for the Arran ferry as it left Ardrossan on a fine, clear morning or, whether he had had enough of Arran the previous week, when the bold James suddenly appeared announcing that he had been on the deck below probably wondering if the rest of us had slept in. Anyway Jimmy had plans for the day and as we partook of coffee and rolls in the café he said that, given the clear conditions, he was going high, taking in the Three Beinns (Nuis, Tarsuinn and a’Chliabhain -  the scribe thinks!). Davie agreed to keep him company and, despite our protestations, he took Holly with him. What cruelty! She had only just met up with her pals and had had a good sniff at our rucksacks as we came on board to ascertain what delights there might be for lunch.

The remaining six took the bus down to Lamlash before heading back up towards Clauchlands Point and the climb up to the trig point on Dun Fion. Here lunch was taken whilst we took in the views of the Holy Isle, Brodick and the hills beyond. Despite our best efforts we were unable to spot two men and a dug on the hills in the distance but, as Jimmy’s photos show, they were being blessed with superb views of their own.

Soon it was time to continue over Clauchlands Hill and down towards the main road. We did this walk back on 28 July 2010 and even since then the landscape had changed due to swathes of trees having being felled. Over the road we went and continued down the forest road towards Glen Cloy only stopping briefly for drinks before turning towards Auchrannie and back to Brodick.

Here we partook of ale at Mac’s Bar, as we do, but, being less than satisfied with the beer there, we reconvened at the Douglas which was more to our satisfaction.

A four hour walk on a fine summer’s day was complemented with chips on the boat home. The splinter group had set a target of the later crossing and we look forward to their minority report.

Report from the high* toppers

Even before the ferry left Ardrossan Jimmy’s mind was made up. The fact the he had done the proposed walk the week before and the fact that the morning was bright, sunny and warm and that the light morning hill fog was already burning off the hills made up his mind for him: He was for the high tops. When he mentioned this to Davie when he eventually found the group (having waited patiently on the lower sun deck while the rest waited on the upper one miscalling him), the latter agreed to accompany him. Even Holly looked pleased with this change of plan. And as we got nearer to the island and the hill fog continued to break up, the resolve hardened. We were definitely for the high tops.

The walk up Glen Rosa in the late morning sun was very pleasant indeed. Good natured chitchat was exchanged with like minded folk as we passed them and even birds were identified for those who were unsure what they were watching. A chap from Kilmarnock – sorry we forgot to get your name – followed closely behind us. He, likewise, was bound for the ‘Three Bens’ horseshoe and followed us along the glen to the bridge on the Garbh Allt. At this bridge we left the floor of the glen to start the first steep climb of the day, up the side of the burn on to a high moorland stretch.

The Garbh Allt or Rough Burn is just that, a steep flow of rushing water tumbling over and gushing between granite boulders in foamy white waterfalls or flowing more gently over smoothed granite slabs. The path alternately brought us to the burn side or raised us high above it depending on the drop of the water. Then it dropped us down into a deep gully, across the burn and up the other side and we could see our first objective, Ben Nuis, rising steeply in front of us for the hill fog had now completely gone and the peaks were free and clear.

It’s amazing how much steeper and higher they have made this climb in the twenty-six years since Jimmy last did it, or even in the ten years since Davie last did it. The climb was steep and hot and long but we consoled ourselves with the fact that our new Kilmarnock friend hadn’t passed us yet. Then, quite suddenly, we were on the top and could settle for a bite to eat. We were joined few minutes later by the Kilmarnock chappie.

It was two o’clock when we eventually made the summit of Ben Nuis - the climb taking longer than Jimmy thought - but it was well worth putting in the effort for the views presented to us today were spectacular. (See Jimmy’s pictures below) Yet, for a wee while it looked as though we would be deprived of these views for, as we climbed to the summit, a drift of cloud floated in our direction and we thought the worst. But, as we sat, it broke up around our summit revealing tantalising vignettes of the western hills and Loch Tanna below. To the east though, the high tops leading on to Goat Fell were clear and bathed in sunshine. Our ridge to the north looked ominously steep and forbidding under the cloud that broke up around us. Then the cloud was gone and a wonderful hillscape opened up for us, with vistas as far as the Galloway hills in the southeast, Ireland in the southwest, The Paps of Jura in the west, the Goat Fell ridges in the east and the ridge on to our next top, Ben Tarsuinn, running away northward.

It was along this ridge that we wandered after lunch, stopping frequently as Jimmy tried to capture with his camera the impressive scene of rock walls and steep gullies that make up this ridge. We passed a structure of fractured granite slabs known as the Old Man of Ben Tarsuinn and of course this just had to be photographed as well. Then, just as suddenly as on Ben Nuis, we were on the summit of Ben Tarsuinn.

Ben Tarsuinn gives great views of the peaks and rock faces of all the northern hills of Arran and we spent a wee bit of time identifying the tops and possible walks over and amongst them. But we didn’t spend too long doing this for we were conscious of distance and time, and the last ferry. We left the top of Ben Tarsuinn a little after two-forty-five.

Now there came a steep and rocky descent where we lost the path, found it beyond a granite slab and almost immediately lost it again. This pattern continued for a good quarter of an hour of ever downward progress. Eventually, after a few more drops off granite slabs, we found the path on a more level slope. This descent was not easy and was made very much with use of hands as much as feet but it did drop us on to the path coming through the Bowman’s Pass. Through the rock arch and we were on better footing again on the path for Ben A’Chliabhain.

We reached the summit of Ben A’Chliabhain at four o’clock – bang on Jimmy’s schedule – and another halt was made to replace lost fluids.
The descent from Ben A’Chliabhain is by way of a gritty path through the peaty areas and by many easy-sloping granite slabs, ‘The Pavement’ Davie’s children called it all those years ago. Now there’s one thing about Davie; there’s no holding him back on an ascent but his dodgy knees and sair back prevent him from exercising the same speed on the descent. The down slope was taken in three distinct groups of one – Holly to the fore chasing mice and voles in the long bent-grass by the side of the path, Jimmy striding casually down the ‘pavement’, hands behind his back, and Davie bringing up the rear trying hard to protect his knees. Then the ‘pavement’ gave way to wet moorland and the group was together again. But the path down the Alt Garbh caused Davie the same problems and Jimmy and Holly had to wait at the bridge in Glen Rosa. Davie wasn’t too far behind though, and we all gathered at that bridge at five o’clock. Again, bang on Jimmy’s estimate.

It was at the bridge here that we were joined by David from Bishopbriggs. He had done the first part of our walk but instead of turning to Ben A’Chliabhain he had continued towards Cir Mhor, a walk we had identified on Tarsuinn. But, said he, he had bitten off more than he could chew and had come back down into the glen by a steep path on the flank of Cir Mhor. David kept us company for the rest of the walk.

The walk down the glen was taken at a more leisurely pace than the walk up it earlier in the day. The six kilometers or so back to Brodick took just over an hour, plenty of time to replace lost fluids in Mac’s Bar before the evening ferry back to Ardrossan.

This had been a long day – seven hours – but it is one that will live long in the memory of the two who did it. We feel sure that they will have recovered in time for next week’s walk.

*For the benefit of our Californian readers (and Ronnie), 'high' here refers to altitude not to chemical enhancement.

9 September Arran - Laggan Cottage and the Sannox Coast

The seals sunning themselves on the rocks above the high tide provided some interest for the passengers on the bus. ‘Gets our seal of approval’ said our wag. We ignored him but it caused some amusement among the rest of the passengers and he was pleased enough with himself. We were pleased with ourselves as well for nine of us were on the bus travelling the coast road northward from Brodick towards Lochranza; we were for another day on Arran, this time for a lower level walk round the coast from Lochranza to Laggan Cottage and Sannox. And this time the sun was shining. (See 01/07/09)
We had taken the 9:45 ferry from Ardrossan and the connecting bus service in Brodick and found ourselves travelling along the coast, over the pass of Boguillie to Glen Chalmadale and disembarking at the golf course in Lochranza.
Apart from the seals spotted from the bus, we also saw deer, red deer, as we came over the pass from Sannox, groups of fours or fives browsing the heather slopes above us. But this was nothing to the numbers we saw on the golf course of Lochranza, not fours or fives in this area, but tens and dozens in different groups along the fairways completely undisturbed by the hackers trying to play through. An obliging stag came close to the road and posed for our cameramen. It will be interesting to see who took the best photo, that is if they don’t all turn out the same. We will wait and see.
The deer provided the topic of conversation for the next few minutes. The wildlifers extolled the beauty of the stag, while the golfers wondered about the ruling if your ball stuck somewhere on its anatomy.
Such conversation took us to a sign designated ‘Laggan Cottage’ pointed us up a gently sloping track. We wandered up the track leaving the floor of Glen Chalmadale and the golf course behind us but we weren’t on this too long. Another signpost saying ‘Laggan Cottage 2 1/2 miles’ directed us up a well constructed path, a steeper path but not unduly so and we climbed casually with it through the heather.
Our wildlife spotting continued with insect life. An iridescent blue damselfly darted across the road in front of Davie but remained unseen by the rest of us. Nobody could fail to see the butterflies, though such were the numbers. Red Admirals, Peacocks and different species of Whites flitted in the heather around us, landing to feed and sun on the maturing blossoms. We also felt the need to feed and sun ourselves. So, beside a wee bridge over a wee burn, on an outcrop of sunlit rock, we stopped for coffee.
We stopped, but the wildlife interest didn’t. A buzzard could be heard but not seen on the far side of the glen and a dragonfly, a Common Darter, dashed past us into some bracken as we sat. And we sat for some time; it was a day for that.
When we roused ourselves after coffee, we continued to climb with the path. It rose more steeply now and lifted us high on the side of Glen Chalmadale. The high, rocky peaks of the north Arran mountains began to show on the far side of the glen - Suidhe Fearghas (Fergus’s Seat), Ceum-na-Caillich (Witch’s Step) and Caisteal Abhail (The Castles) with the Goat Fell ridge behind. And the view improved the higher we got.
We rose beside the Allt Chailean. Some suggested we were rising in the allt for the path here ran with water. After the kind of summer we have had, this was less than surprising but that didn’t stop the hydrophobes complaining. However, this was to be the only wet bit of the day and we were on drier footing when we came through the pass of Tom a’ Buidhe and found ourselves high above the sea, looking out to the Isle of Bute and the north Ayrshire coast.
As the relic of a sea cliff of glacial times, the ground fell steeply away from our feet to the raised beach some seven hundred feet below but the path slanted much more gently down the flank of the steep. The path was narrow but well constructed and graded, and feet could be placed with confidence. This gave us ample opportunity to look about us. The view was mainly to the seawards for the ground sloped equally steeply above us but what a view it was to the seaward. The low-lying ground of Bute lay immediately across the water and to the south of this the cliffs of the Wee Cumbrae stood out; the coast of Ayrshire ran away southwards and in the north the ‘lum’ of Inverkip power station marked where the Clyde Firth turned towards Greenock. Superb.
Gannets fished just offshore and amused us no end by plunging arrow-like into the sea only to bob to the surface a few moments later swallowing their catch. They continued to amuse us, especially he with the binoculars, as we dropped down the slope towards Laggan Cottage.
A young couple came towards us up the path. Recognising one of our number as a former teacher of theirs, they stopped for a blether. While teacher and pupil reminisced, the rest of us walked on and waited out of earshot. The gannets kept us amused until the blethers rejoined us. Then it was downward yet, to the cottage at Laggan.
Three pinkish grey and black ‘hoodie craws’ lifted from the ground as we approached the cottage adding to our wildlife for the day.
Lunch was called at the cottage and we settled down in the sun once more. A man was already there when we arrived and a few minutes later he was joined by a woman*. ‘Did you find them?’ he asked her but she answered in the negative. Then she asked us which way we were heading. When we told her, she asked if we could keep an eye out for a brown leather spec case with a pair of specs inside. Being the obliging kind of folk we are we promised to keep a lookout for them. She thanked us in advance and left contact details with Allan who promised to leave them in the ticket office on the pier at Brodick. ‘They’re either beside a large boulder where I stopped to spend a penny’, said she, ‘or in the ladies toilet at Sannox’. There was no shortage of volunteers among us for a search of the ladies toilet. ‘Also, keep an eye out for the basking sharks’, said he changing the subject, ‘There’s two of them near the fallen rocks’. Then they thanked us once again and went on their way towards Lochranza.
We however, turned our steps southward along the raised beach towards Sannox and we were to stay on this raised beach for the rest of the walk. The going was level, dry and easy and we strolled along the path looking seaward, ever hopeful of spotting sharks. Holly played water-sticks with anybody who could throw the stick as far as the sea. Down the shingle beaches she ran, over the slippery rocks she clambered and all the time splashing into the sea and swimming to retrieve the stick. How we wished we had half her energy. But we had energy enough to wander along that path taking pleasure in a rare day of warm sunshine.
We approached the Fallen Rocks with still no sign of specs, or sharks. A sudden yell of ‘Shark!’ had us all stopped looking seaward at the blue-black dorsal fin slicing through the water. This disappeared and reappeared, shrank and grew according to the swell. It was occasionally joined by a tail fin. We estimated the distance between dorsal and tail to be around three metres, giving a total length of around five metres – a fair sized fish and, had Rex been with us, he would have been calculating how many shark steaks this would have made. Then another dorsal appeared some twenty metres away. There were at least two sharks patrolling that stretch of water.
Not only were there sharks here but, as we watched, a large salmon leapt from the waves adding another sighting to our wildlife list for the day. ‘We just need a snake or a lizard and we’ll have covered the five orders of the animal kingdom’, said the naturalist, but we felt this was just asking too much, considering what we had already seen.

We left the fallen rocks and the fishes behind and came into the trees of Sannox Wood. Here, on the arm of a bench was the missing spec case complete with specs. Allan collected it, texted the owner and promised to leave them with the ticket office. Then, feeling that we had been of some use to humanity, we walked on though one or two were disappointed that we wouldn’t get to search the ladies toilet now.
A break was called when we reached the toilets and car park at the foot of the Sannox Water. A man with binoculars stood looking out to sea. We thought perhaps he was looking at more sharks but the two spots we could see turned out to be two more seals, heads up looking back at the man with binoculars. How disappointed we were that they were only seals.
Robert said, ‘We don’t need to go onto the road. There’s a path round the shore from here’. Yes Robert, there may well be a path round the shore but good as we are, we haven’t yet mastered the walking on water bit. We had to turn back a little, come up the side of the river for two or three hundred metres to find a bridge and come back down the other side. We were now only forty metres from where the master spoke but he was right - there was a path round the shore.
The path took us under high sandstone cliffs where some of our number learned the techniques of abseiling. But that was before time and beer added a few more pounds to their frames and we wondered if there would be an abseiling rope strong enough to hold them now. They chose not to hear this thought and walked on.
We emerged from the scrubby woodland surrounding our path at the bus stop. We had five minutes to wait for the bus back to Brodick. The five minutes was taken up by measuring the length of a basking shark in the gravel (there are at least three sizes for the same fish depending on whose stride length you believe) or by planning future outings on the high peaks. Two walks have been added to our ‘to do’ list - The Witches Step and The Castles from North Glen Sannox and The Ben Nuis horseshoe. Before any more could be added, the bus arrived.
The bus took us to Brodick in time for the 16:40 ferry to the mainland. We didn’t think it would so we got off the bus before the pier to take FRT in Mac’s Bar. But then we saw the ferry and made a dash for it. Such was our hurry that Allan very nearly forgot to leave the found specs and had to make a hasty trip back to the ticket office. But he managed the ferry just in time.
FRT was taken on the ferry on the way back to the mainland and next weeks walk was ‘planned’.

*The lady in question was Judy Angel and the man was Henry Ferris both of whom have placed a comment on the blog under arrangements for the next walk. All we can say is that it was a pleasure Judy and despite our appearance and misogynistic approach to women in our group, we really are nice people.