11 April The Lowther Hills – All three of them

Alan, Allan, Davie Mc, Ian, Jimmy, Paul, Peter, Rex, Robert & Ronnie

Hubris is not a word that you will read often in these pages, mainly because most of us don’t have a clue what it means. Still, according to our linguist, a classic case of hubris got its comeuppance this morning.

The morning was bright but lightly overcast when we gathered at the fire station in Wanlockhead for a climb of Lowther Hill, a walk we have done a few times and will probably do a few times again for it is a favourite. The morning was bright but a snell northerly breeze kept the temperature down reminding us just how early in the year it was. However, it was this same breeze that kept the air clear and we looked forward to the views from the tops.

Paul was reminded, as if he needed to be, of the first time he did this walk with us (16 Jan 2008). I quote from the blog of that day: ‘Paul, having failed miserably to demonstrate his long-jumping skills, now attempted to demonstrate his paddling and bank climbing skills’. He fell in the burn. Not that we took any great delight in the misfortune of poor Paul. Oh no, we didn’t.

But to get back to today’s venture. We set off along the old railway track towards the Sanquhar road at a fairly brisk pace to stir the blood and build up a heat against the chill breeze. Unlike the time when Paul went for a swim, we didn’t stay on the Sanquhar road. Davie Mc, who knows this area better than any of us, had us turn off and up a shooters' track on to Middle Moor. Already we were rewarded with views for the landscape began to open up to us. The Nith Valley was clear, as far as Corsencon in the west but the hills around Glen Afton still held their morning mist. We had hopes that this would clear by the time we reached the top of our hill. But Paul was reminded, rather gleefully we thought, by Davie not to get carried away by the views for he still had the burn to cross. And remember what happened the last time!

The descent from Middle Moor was steep and the party fragmented as each took his own time coming down. Davie, walking with Paul, reminded him again that the burn was at the foot of this slope. Perhaps Davie should read The Book of Proverbs especially the one that says, ‘Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall’. Hubris ill becomes an Ooter. Still in our ones and twos we came down to the burn which, to be fair, most crossed with little effort. But Davie reminded Paul of the difficulties of crossing it. No problem to Paul this time though, his long legs making short work of the crossing. Not so Davie, however. Pride certainly goes before a fall. Not just metaphorically but literally in his case. Down went the proud Davie, down on his backside in the middle of the burn. Did Paul laugh? You bet he did. And so did the others when the drookit Davie joined them at coffee at the start of the Dempster Road. Davie had to remove his wet breeks and walk for the rest of the day in waterproofs.

After coffee we followed the Dempster Road as it rose gently above the Mennock Pass. Then we left it to make its way down towards Dalveen and took to a well walked path on the flank of Threehope Height. Then we climbed towards Auchenlone or East Mount Lowther - ‘Why is it called East Mount Lowther when it is the most westerly of the group?’ asked one. ‘How the blazes should we know, we only walk the hills, we don’t name them!’ was the curt response. Anyway, as we climbed we could look back and see the sun shine on Nithsdale, and the rain shower blowing on the breeze towards us. The whole of the Nith valley from The Ayrshire boundary to the Solway was spread out below us, Corsencon marking its north-west entrance and Criffel the south. Jimmy set the poser; in which of Burns’s poems does he say, ‘Nith shall rin to Corsencon and Criffel sink in Solway’? The other Burnsian in the group, Davie, smiled a knowing smile but held his peace. Answers please by comment to this post.

The climb wasn’t too arduous and we crested the top of Auchlone without a great deal of difficulty. But before we could get to the viewpoint indicator that marks the summit, the rain and hail that we could see coming down Nithsdale hit us with ferocity. All we could do was turn our backs to the breeze and let the rain and hail bounce off the waterproofs while we waited for party to regroup. Then it was down as quickly as we could.

‘Down’ was the short drop to the head of the Enterkin Pass. Even before we got there the rain had gone. But the going of the rain only exposed the steep face of Lowther Hill looming before us, a patch of snow still clinging tenaciously to a high cleuch. Now the going would be tougher. Fortunately a track led up to a corner of the ‘golf ball’ service road and this eased the climb somewhat though nothing eased the burn in the old legs and lungs. Even when we reached tarmac the slope was taking its toll and once more the group was fragmented as each took his own time on the climb. At the door of the ‘golf ball’ we collapsed to the ground and had lunch.

It was during the peece stop that the hill fog arrived. When we left the ‘golf ball’ on the service road for the masts in Green Lowther, the fog was still with us so the view wasn’t. All we did then was walk on talking Ooter stuff with each other. A pair of birds ran across the heather before taking to the wing into the fog. ‘Golden Plover’ said our ornithological friend. Then, just as quickly as it had come, the fog started to break up. By the time we had climbed to the Green Lowther masts, the fog was gone and we were left with crystal clear air, clear air that allowed extensive views.

When all around was named and commented on we looked further away. The Moffat hills held patches of snow but most snow could be seen on the hills and mountains marking the highland line some seventy miles away.

Below us we could see the wee unnamed reservoir that would be our next objective. Despite the cool breeze, the afternoon was turning pleasant and the progress now was downward and relaxed. We wandered down that slope taking in the changing landscape around us. Then, at the reservoir, we sat down for an afternoon break, the first such this year. Alan spent the time watching wee fishes jump for insects and Ian finished his umpteenth sandwich but most just sat around enjoying the early spring sunshine. Then it was time to move on.

The short stretch of moorland between the reservoir and the service road for the ‘golf ball’ was upward and rough, testing already tired legs. While the fit charged on, some plodded manfully behind and were more than relieved to find tarmac at the top of the slope. We came on to that tarmac barely quarter of a mile from the Wanlockhead fire station and the waiting cars.

Though there was a point half way through the day when we had a poor spell, on the whole this was a super day, one of the best of the year so far – hubris and wet breeks notwithstanding.

FRT was taken in our usual howf, the Crown in Sanquhar.