Since the big freeze went, the weather has been mixed, sometimes frosty, bright and sunny but mainly damp and dreich. Today was to continue the dreich pattern.
The intention of the day was for a walk on the Lowther Hills before the snow went completely and when a fresh fall came earlier in the week, we were hopeful of a pleasant snowy walk. But, when we gathered in Jimmy’s place in Cumnock, the day was dreich with damp air and a lowering sky. Some were for a local walk round Cumnock fearing a repeat of last week but Davie suggested that we go to Wanlockhead and if the conditions for a climb were poor we could have a low level walk. It was Jimmy who pointed out that Wanlockhead sits somewhere above the fourteen hundred contour and there could be no ‘low level’ walking around there. However, we knew what Davie meant and his suggestion was accepted. We headed for Wanlockhead.
The village was free of snow but great icy drifts lay in the cleuchs and we suspected more lay on the tops; suspected, for there was no way we could see for sure for the tops rose into claggy hill fog the base of which was barely a hundred feet above our heads. There was no way we would get the veterans of last week’s soaking up into that fog so a ‘low level’ walk it would be.
The first spots of rain hit as we prepared to leave the cars, not heavy rain nor long lasting but enough to make us waterproof from the outset.
We set off down through the village, down past the old lead works buildings – ‘I helped excavate this in the nineteen seventies,’ said Paul and we were suitably impressed – and down the valley of the Wanlock Water. The drizzly rain went as we approached Meadowfoot Cemetery. We have amongst us those who love to explore old cemeteries. (It has been said that we only do this because, at our age, we are only sussing out future lodgings.) We interrupted our walk to investigate. That the cemetery is still in use is evident from the modern gravestones but its antiquity – it dates from 1751 - is also evident from the old stones. The earliest we found today dated from 1774 and the grandest was that of the mine manager on the late eighteenth century. The historian suggested that, if Maria Riddel’s account is to be believed, this may well have been the man who showed Burns and the Riddel group round the mines here in January 1792. We have only his suggestion for this but it is an interesting theory.
By the time we had exhausted the cemetery’s possibilities the rain had gone but the sky still showed no sign of lifting. We walked on down the valley on a forest-road type track that dropped imperceptibly down beside the burn, opening and closing jackets as the drizzle continued to come and go. Even when it went there was no drying and sweat built up inside the waterproofs. Then the track crossed the burn by a bridge and started to climb the valley side.
The abandoned farmhouse of Duntercleuch sits above the burn, on the side of the valley. Since it was mow nearing eleven, we stopped here, leaned our backs to the wall of the house and had coffee.
It was a good choice to have coffee at Duntercleuch for a few minutes after we had started on the climb again the rain came once more, this time in more serious mood. And it was up through the rain we climbed to enter the plantation clothing the side of Duntercleuch Rig. Our weatherman had suggested that the rain would go for it was just a front passing through but, at that moment, it didn’t look like it. The rain came straight down and it looked as though it was bringing the sky with it and we would be walking in fog again. Yet we climbed on with the road, Rex and Davie setting a cracking pace on the upward, splitting the group into two parties. And we continued to climb on what most thought would be the last on this ‘low level’ walk.
Somewhere in the mizzle and the trees the fast waited for the slow to catch up, and then they were off again. We continued to climb with the road. Quite suddenly and unexpectedly, the trees gave way and we came into a more open hillscape. The rain eased and was the sky clearing? Would our weatherman be right after all? It certainly seemed that way. We left the road and, at another abandoned, and this time ruinous, farmstead a hundred yards across the hill, we sat down for our peece.
Davie, being first to the ruin, found the only bit of shelter from the remaining drizzle under the still intact roof of the porch and the rest had to make do with an outside wall. But the rain went, and we were first to see the sunshine. A patch of blue sky floated above us and the first shaft of sunlight swept across the hill, to light and warm us. Were we jealous of Davie’s shelter? Were we heck! Now that the rain had gone, some took the opportunity to change into dry shirts. It’s a good job we had finished the peece for semi-naked Ooters are not a pretty sight and we of a delicate nature may well have been put off our food. As it was, we were finished the peece and were ready to set off again.
With the brightening weather came a brightening in the attitude of the group. A brightening until we found out that we had another mountain to climb. We slanted up grassy field to find a green track slanting up the hillside. Davie was being called all manner of uncomplimentary things. He said it was to be a ‘low level’ walk and here he was dragging us up another mountain. But, at least the track was good and well graded up the slope and, with the clearing weather, the views began to open out. The effort of the climb was rewarded by a super view from Wedder Hill. South-west, the hills around Moniaive showed well and in the west Nithsdale ran into Ayrshire with the Afton Hills on one side and Corsencon guarding the other; in the east, the bulk of Tinto looked close; due north, Cairntable and the Muirkirk hills had the wind-farm at Lesmahagow as a backdrop and through a gap, the Ochils were bathed in sunshine. This was a remarkable view for so low an eminence, one which was completely unexpected for us today given the weather at the start. Yet, to the south the Lowthers still held onto the clag as they would for the rest of the day so Davie’s choice of the ‘low level’ walk turned out to be a good one. His ears stopped burning as the comments turned more pleasant and perhaps we will let him choose some other walks in the future.
Wedder Hill was the high point of the day. Now we had to drop back into the Wanlock Water valley. The path found another track. We would follow this downward. This wasn’t as straightforward as it would seem for great wreaths of icy, rotting snow lay across it and these had to be negotiated with some caution for they were slippy. The Irvine two certainly took their time. But this is to be expected of those from the coast who think a heavy frost is a severe winter. But, remembering (eventually Rex and Davie) the new axiom of the ooters, we waited compassionately for them on the bridge over the Wanlock.
An easy saunter saw us back up the valley into the village. But Rex and Davie hadn’t finished with their exploits. In front of the main group, they were seen to veer away to the right, onto the old railway track. But enough was enough for the rest of us who kept to the road through the village. Wrong move! Davie knew exactly where he was going and the fast pair beat us all to the cars, having taken the shorter route.
A good end to a poor start today but as yon English fellow said, ‘All’s well that ends well’. And all was well with us as we took FRT in the Crown in Sanquhar.
The intention of the day was for a walk on the Lowther Hills before the snow went completely and when a fresh fall came earlier in the week, we were hopeful of a pleasant snowy walk. But, when we gathered in Jimmy’s place in Cumnock, the day was dreich with damp air and a lowering sky. Some were for a local walk round Cumnock fearing a repeat of last week but Davie suggested that we go to Wanlockhead and if the conditions for a climb were poor we could have a low level walk. It was Jimmy who pointed out that Wanlockhead sits somewhere above the fourteen hundred contour and there could be no ‘low level’ walking around there. However, we knew what Davie meant and his suggestion was accepted. We headed for Wanlockhead.
The village was free of snow but great icy drifts lay in the cleuchs and we suspected more lay on the tops; suspected, for there was no way we could see for sure for the tops rose into claggy hill fog the base of which was barely a hundred feet above our heads. There was no way we would get the veterans of last week’s soaking up into that fog so a ‘low level’ walk it would be.
The first spots of rain hit as we prepared to leave the cars, not heavy rain nor long lasting but enough to make us waterproof from the outset.
We set off down through the village, down past the old lead works buildings – ‘I helped excavate this in the nineteen seventies,’ said Paul and we were suitably impressed – and down the valley of the Wanlock Water. The drizzly rain went as we approached Meadowfoot Cemetery. We have amongst us those who love to explore old cemeteries. (It has been said that we only do this because, at our age, we are only sussing out future lodgings.) We interrupted our walk to investigate. That the cemetery is still in use is evident from the modern gravestones but its antiquity – it dates from 1751 - is also evident from the old stones. The earliest we found today dated from 1774 and the grandest was that of the mine manager on the late eighteenth century. The historian suggested that, if Maria Riddel’s account is to be believed, this may well have been the man who showed Burns and the Riddel group round the mines here in January 1792. We have only his suggestion for this but it is an interesting theory.
By the time we had exhausted the cemetery’s possibilities the rain had gone but the sky still showed no sign of lifting. We walked on down the valley on a forest-road type track that dropped imperceptibly down beside the burn, opening and closing jackets as the drizzle continued to come and go. Even when it went there was no drying and sweat built up inside the waterproofs. Then the track crossed the burn by a bridge and started to climb the valley side.
The abandoned farmhouse of Duntercleuch sits above the burn, on the side of the valley. Since it was mow nearing eleven, we stopped here, leaned our backs to the wall of the house and had coffee.
It was a good choice to have coffee at Duntercleuch for a few minutes after we had started on the climb again the rain came once more, this time in more serious mood. And it was up through the rain we climbed to enter the plantation clothing the side of Duntercleuch Rig. Our weatherman had suggested that the rain would go for it was just a front passing through but, at that moment, it didn’t look like it. The rain came straight down and it looked as though it was bringing the sky with it and we would be walking in fog again. Yet we climbed on with the road, Rex and Davie setting a cracking pace on the upward, splitting the group into two parties. And we continued to climb on what most thought would be the last on this ‘low level’ walk.
Somewhere in the mizzle and the trees the fast waited for the slow to catch up, and then they were off again. We continued to climb with the road. Quite suddenly and unexpectedly, the trees gave way and we came into a more open hillscape. The rain eased and was the sky clearing? Would our weatherman be right after all? It certainly seemed that way. We left the road and, at another abandoned, and this time ruinous, farmstead a hundred yards across the hill, we sat down for our peece.
Davie, being first to the ruin, found the only bit of shelter from the remaining drizzle under the still intact roof of the porch and the rest had to make do with an outside wall. But the rain went, and we were first to see the sunshine. A patch of blue sky floated above us and the first shaft of sunlight swept across the hill, to light and warm us. Were we jealous of Davie’s shelter? Were we heck! Now that the rain had gone, some took the opportunity to change into dry shirts. It’s a good job we had finished the peece for semi-naked Ooters are not a pretty sight and we of a delicate nature may well have been put off our food. As it was, we were finished the peece and were ready to set off again.
With the brightening weather came a brightening in the attitude of the group. A brightening until we found out that we had another mountain to climb. We slanted up grassy field to find a green track slanting up the hillside. Davie was being called all manner of uncomplimentary things. He said it was to be a ‘low level’ walk and here he was dragging us up another mountain. But, at least the track was good and well graded up the slope and, with the clearing weather, the views began to open out. The effort of the climb was rewarded by a super view from Wedder Hill. South-west, the hills around Moniaive showed well and in the west Nithsdale ran into Ayrshire with the Afton Hills on one side and Corsencon guarding the other; in the east, the bulk of Tinto looked close; due north, Cairntable and the Muirkirk hills had the wind-farm at Lesmahagow as a backdrop and through a gap, the Ochils were bathed in sunshine. This was a remarkable view for so low an eminence, one which was completely unexpected for us today given the weather at the start. Yet, to the south the Lowthers still held onto the clag as they would for the rest of the day so Davie’s choice of the ‘low level’ walk turned out to be a good one. His ears stopped burning as the comments turned more pleasant and perhaps we will let him choose some other walks in the future.
Wedder Hill was the high point of the day. Now we had to drop back into the Wanlock Water valley. The path found another track. We would follow this downward. This wasn’t as straightforward as it would seem for great wreaths of icy, rotting snow lay across it and these had to be negotiated with some caution for they were slippy. The Irvine two certainly took their time. But this is to be expected of those from the coast who think a heavy frost is a severe winter. But, remembering (eventually Rex and Davie) the new axiom of the ooters, we waited compassionately for them on the bridge over the Wanlock.
An easy saunter saw us back up the valley into the village. But Rex and Davie hadn’t finished with their exploits. In front of the main group, they were seen to veer away to the right, onto the old railway track. But enough was enough for the rest of us who kept to the road through the village. Wrong move! Davie knew exactly where he was going and the fast pair beat us all to the cars, having taken the shorter route.
A good end to a poor start today but as yon English fellow said, ‘All’s well that ends well’. And all was well with us as we took FRT in the Crown in Sanquhar.
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