Muirkirk is not a viable option tomorrow.

New arrangements in view of the forecast.
Meet in the car park beside the old swimming pool on Prestwick shore. Meet at 10.00.a.m.  The walk will be along the shore to Troon with the option of walking back or getting a bus back if weather is atrocious. Weatherspoons in Prestwick for F.R.T. ( Peter phoned to tell me that the road to Muirkirk was blocked this afternoon ) Rex suggested lunch in Weatherspoon's could be an option.

Some images from Cumbrae trip.

Cumbrae 10 January

Alan, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Dougie, Gus, Ian, Johnny, Kenny R, Kenny T, Malcolm, Paul, Rex, Robert

It was a rather dreich morning that saw us assemble in Largs for the 9.45 sailing to Cumbrae. However, the forecast was for a steady improvement, so the only issue was whether we would do the walk clockwise or anti-clockwise. Most assumed that the latter was the preferred option, but since the pull up to the Glaid Stone was less strenuous going our usual route and given the fact that it would get the climb out of the way first, Davie and the dug led us clockwise.

There was little breeze, but it was still cold enough for most to keep all layers on as we marched up to our coffee stop at the top of the hill. The eagle-eyed spotted a submarine being escorted up the firth, too small methinks to be a Trident boat.
Ten minutes later we were on our way again and before long we were in Millport, a bit of a ghost town at this time of the year. Lunch was taken at the benches overlooking the still waters of the bay, not at the shelter further along.
Allan and Johnny were the first to move since they were beginning to get chilled, and as they passed the afore-mentioned shelter, they noticed that it had been refurbished, at least all of it except the benches, very strange! The rest caught up within a mile and overtook them for the chase up the far side of the island. The weather had picked up and we had some winter sunshine as the tarmac was pounded. A mile and a half from the slipway, Davie, having consulted Holly, declared that we would not make the 1.30 ferry, so we could ease up and take our time, and thus the remainder of the walk was done at a more casual pace. Not that some of us noticed of course.
The slipway was reached at 1.40, three and three-quarter hours after having set off.
Those of us who were listening to the announcements on the ferry realised that they were going to do a man-overboard drill on the way over, so when the alarm went off we were not concerned. A dummy was thrown into the water and we watched as it was retrieved by seamen with a large pole and then hauled aboard. The drill seemed to satisfy those who were observing from the bridge and no doubt the H&S box could be ticked for another year or so. It took Robert a wee while to get dried off and he was glad that they didn’t try the kiss of life on him.
FRT was taken at the Paddle Steamer in Largs aka Wetherspoon’s, where, for some, this became a TPD. The hour and a half spent there was a good laugh and the chips were good! By the time we left the weather had turned damp and dreich again.

Arrangements for Wed 17th Jan

Hail ,Rain ,Snow, or anything that Scotland,s weather can muster,the walk will be the Lunkey Hole walk from Muirkirk . Meet at 10.00.a.m. at Kaimes.

Tarbolton 3 January

Alan McQ, Alan S, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Malcolm, Paul, Rex, Robert

Twelve Ooters met in Tarbolton and got kitted up for a wet morning before setting off for Tarbolton Woods. Having gone a hundred yards or so, a black Mercedes came hurtling towards us. Oh, yes, the Rex man had cometh! Since compassion is our middle name, and since we are at the stage where we can’t remember the motto, we waited at Hamilton’s yard for him to catch up, and to our astonishment, he had come without a note from his mammy for being late.

As we passed the war memorial and headed along the minor road, umbrellas were to the fore, as the promised rains had arrived. Alan McQ then took us to the right and up a muddy track and into the woods. Underfoot conditions were very wet, and it was with some relief that we gained some height and emerged on to tarmac at Middlemuir Caravan Park. This seemed to throw our leaders as we didn’t really want to be there. We eventually made our way out of the park, turned left, and headed up the road towards the B743, but spotting where we should have been, Alan took us off to the left and over a paddy field towards Coilsfield Mains Farm, where we turned left and headed down to the Water of Fail. As we assembled on the wee bridge we had options to consider i.e. whether to continue up to Failford or to simply head back to the cars. The majority had had enough of the conditions, so we re-entered the woods and followed the track above the river. This, itself, proved challenging as the narrow path was on a slippy slope and we were relieved to find level ground for a coffee stop. Fortunately, the rain had stopped for the duration of our stop, giving us ample time to recharge batteries and to inspect the start that had been made to the Ooters retirement village, watched over by our guardian angel.

We followed the very muddy Fail (the amount of good soil washed off the adjoining fields must be a concern who those who earn a living from the land) back up towards Tarbolton, eventually emerging on to the road leading up to the war memorial and back to the cars.
By Ooters standards, this had been a short walk, two hours and about four or five miles, but it had been enough given the conditions. At least we got it dry to get changed and move up to the Black Bull for a very convivial FRT.
As per usual the chat was lively, diverse, and humorous but there was a rare five-minute spell when everyone’s attention was focused on the one subject, and that subject was a Humblebum*. Evidence was trawled by our leader for the day from the internet aka the bush telegraph, and the subject was discussed, and indeed drooled over, at length, or should it be, at a distance!
Eventually it was time to go home, at an unusually early time of the day. Nonetheless, despite the walking conditions, the social aspect of the Ooters had prevailed, and won the day, yet again.

*The Humblebums consisted, at various stages, of Billy Connolly, Gerry Rafferty and Tam Harvey. Say no more!