4 August The Striding Arches

‘Blows the wind today, and the sun and rain are flying?
Blows the wind on the moor today and now,

R.L.Stevenson

The magazine article that drew Jimmy’s attention to the Striding Arches walk said that it would be about ten miles, the official leaflet said six and the internet said nine kilometres. So today’s walk would be anything between five and a half and ten miles.
The morning wasn’t promising with overcast skies and drizzle blowing across the landscape in waves in the gentlest of breezes. This was against a forecast that promised sunshine with the occasional shower but, when we gathered at Jimmy’s, the drizzle persisted and there was little sign of it lifting. There were some (well, Davie and Jimmy, actually) who were for wimping out of the planned excursion and suggested a local walk. It’s a good thing to have Robert with us. ‘Look, the forecast’s good. We’ll just go for it’, said he, authoritatively. So the six of us (wimps included), made the journey south to Moniaive and the valley of the Dalwhat Water.
The hills surrounding the head of the Dalwhat are the platforms for one of Andy Goldsworthy’s art installations, Striding Arches, and this is what we made the long journey down Nithsdale to see. And as we journeyed south, the weather improved slightly – at least the drizzle went off.


The abandoned farm of Cairnhead seven miles north of Moniaive provides the car park for the arches and the start of the walk. It also hosts the first of the Striding Arches. So the first part of the outing was to walk the whole hundred yards or so to the farm and ‘Byre’. ‘Byre’, funnily enough, makes use of the old farm byre. Goldsworthy has cut a window in the end wall through which strides his first arch – a seven metre broad, four metre high arch of sandstone blocks held up by nothing more that friction and the gravitational pull on the keystone at the top. Robert, the only artist with us today, was slightly surprised by the scale of the installation but admired Goldsworthy’s insight. And we had to admit that this arch at least, whether insightful art or not, is an impressive piece of work. We only hoped that the rest would be worth the effort.
Fifteen minutes later we were back in the car park and ready for the real walk. Alternative routes are described by the magazine and the leaflet; through a gate, down over the burn by a bridge and up a fire break by the Dibbin Burn to Benbrack, or by the forest road to Colt Hill. Simply because we couldn’t find the start of the route of the magazine, we opted for the forest road.
By its very nature, this road was devoid of any views except the forest – not that we would have seen anything anyway for the valley here is narrow and the hills steep sided - but it did lift us gently up the hill and made the walking easier than it might have been. At one point a break in the trees gave us a view of more forest extending up the sides of the valley.
This easy walking, though, didn’t prevent the group being split. Robert and Jimmy set off like exocets on speed leaving the sensible four trailing on behind. They did stop at one point but only sufficiently to let us catch up, throw us a liquorice sweety and then they were off again. Even when the slope steepened as the road rose up towards the head of the pass, they didn’t ease up. But we were content to let them go and enjoy whatever the forest allowed us to see.
Apart from the ease of the climb, one other good thing happened on this section. As we rose, so did the sky. The cloud that tickled the hill-tops was now well above them and breaking up. At one point there was a patch of blue, a small patch admittedly, but blue it certainly was. Was Robert’s optimism for the day being fulfilled? At least we hoped so.
The next time we caught up with the fast pair, they were standing at the head of the pass between Colt Hill and Black Hill beside a wooden indicator post with three arms pointing to different arches; uphill to the right, Colt Hill; uphill to the left, Benbrack; and downhill, the way we had just come, ‘Byre’. Since Colt Hill was less than a mile distant, we decided this was our first objective. So, leaving the firmness of the road behind, we took the well trodden pad up the steep flank of Colt Hill.

The forest still barred any views on the left but on the right was open ground now and this gave views to the south, over the Dalwhat valley. Not that we could see much of the views for the slope took its toll and heads were down as we pushed upwards towards the summit. We had been warned in the magazine to prepare for wet feet. Yes, the path was wet in places but no more than could be expected given the rain we have had over the last few weeks, and no more than your average hill walk. And it dried off as the slope eased. And, as the slope ease, the forest on the left gave way and there was our next ‘striding arch’ barely fifty metres away on the summit of the hill. The time was now approaching twelve-thirty so we sat down on the summit of Colt Hill with our backs against the Striding Arch and had the peece.
Was it worth the effort? Yes it was, not only for the arch but also for the superb view that is had from the top of Colt Hill. The sky had lifted enough to allow us an extensive panorama in nearly three-sixty degrees. To the south lay the valley of the Dalwhat with the arch on Bail Hill sanding sentry over it. And beyond this, Screel Hill at Castle Douglas and Criffel at the mouth of the Nith stood over the silver streak of the Solway. In the east, the Durrisdeer Hills and the Lowthers, with their unmistakable radar installations, filled the skyline above the valley of the Nith. In the North Corsencon guarded the northern entrance to Nithsdale, looking somewhat smaller from our height than it does from the valley floor. In the north-west, the hills around Glen Afton, Blackcraig, Alwhat and the ‘windmill’ topped Windy Standard, looked very close, spots of sunlight dappling them as the cloud broke up. Yet, in the west, Cairnsmore of Carsphairn still brooded darkly as cloud hung over it’s top. And the landscape beyond this was obscured as rain swept across it. But we didn’t look west; we looked north to a brightening sky and thanked Robert for making the decision to ‘go for it’.
From Colt Hill we had a choice of walks; either south to the last arch on Bail Hill or west to the last arch on Benbrack. From where we were, we could see both arches and, since Bail hill seemed further away and we were now in the mood for a relaxed walk, we opted for Benbrack.
Back down the slope then, back to the forest road and the three armed signpost. Without halt, we crossed the forest road and started on the slope of Black Hill. This wasn’t nearly as steep or as wet as the Colt hill path and we gained the height of Black Hill easily enough. Here we picked up the Southern Upland Way path. The going was easy, the grass short and the way relatively dry. Only the occasional wet patches needed circumnavigating. But on the whole the path is good and allows time to take in the views.
For us the views were northward and westward now. The Glen Afton hills came closer than before, just over the valley of the headwaters of the River Ken, the ‘windmills’ on Windy standard waving cheerily to us in the mild breeze. Even Cairnsmore cheered up as the sun hit it. And now we could see to the west. Over the Glenkens, the long ridge of the Rhinns of Kells appeared through its curtain of rain. But in the south-west, the whale-back of Cairnsmore of Fleet still rose darkly under a heavier sky. But we were in sunshine now and enjoyed the easy walking along the broad ridge to Benbrack and the last of our Striding Arches for the day.

The way off Benbrack to Cairnhead should be straightforward. But this is the Ooters we are talking about here. A set of quad bike tracks took us away from the S.U.W. path, following the fence. So far we were in the right direction. But as we approached the edge of the trees again, the quad tracks and the fence parted company and the fence seemed to be going off in the wrong direction. Our navigator for the day, despite reservations in some parts, decided we should follow the quad tracks. This seemed sensible enough at the time so we all followed. Sure enough, the quad tracks took us into a firebreak. But as we dropped lower and the grass grew thicker, the tracks disappeared. Still all we had to do was follow the firebreak. All was going well until the firebreak split. Which one to take? Jimmy, in the lead again, decided to follow the broader. Slipping and sliding on slimy ground, we still followed the break but less than comfortably now. This brought us to a clearing in the steep glen of the Black burn. Here the vegetation was rampant, thick, tussock grass and tall bracken fronds. And there was no path. We struggled down that burn side as best we could.

Eventually we were decanted onto a forest road, the forest road that left our earlier on just a hundred yards or so from the bridge. We were happy to follow this back to Cairnhead.

This was new territory for all and a walk enjoyed by all. We will definitely be back but next time we will follow the fence off Benbrack.

The usual watering hole of the Crown in Sanquhar provided the FRT for the day.