3 January Annbank to Ayr

Davie Mc, Jimmy, Peter, Rex & Robert

            Five of the hardiest - at least five of the soberest - Ooters turned out for the first outing of the New Year. It was to be a short walk just to work off the excesses of the festive season and to blow away the cobwebs of inactivity. And when we gathered in Annbank, the breeze springing up threatened to blow away more than the cobweb; a chill breeze it was and one that threatened to be in our faces all the way to Ayr. We didn’t look forward to that. Yet it was into this chill breeze that we set our faces and started the walk. The walk has been described too many times in these pages to warrant further description here; suffice to say we would follow the River Ayr way all the way into the town.

No sooner were we dropping into the Ayr valley than the shelter of the trees cut the breeze and the day turned out quite pleasant. A couple of chaps of our own age were ensconced on a fallen tree having a bite of peece when we dropped down beside the burn and we spent a few minutes in New Year’s blethers with them for it was a day for such things. Then we set off down towards the river itself.

Peter’s warning that the path was mucky* was proving to be true. But, then, what else could we have expected given the rain of the last fortnight or so. But by skipping, jumping and holding on to tree trunks while we swung over, the muddiest parts were negotiated with only the occasional naughty word being uttered. More substantial footing was found in the grounds of Auchincruive where we were able to stride out for a bit. Coffee was called for by Rex and we settled down against the Burns Cairn in Leglen wood for refreshment. (Robert provided extra refreshment from a hip flask he had been carrying and those who like this kind of thing availed themselves of his hospitality. Thankshhhh Robert)

            Thoroughly refreshed, we wandered on. The track from Auchincruive to the Mainholm road was a mucky as we have ever seen it and in some places was inches deep in sludgy brown water. But are we not Ooters? We are not afraid of a wee bit of mucky water. We ploughed through what we couldn’t avoid and arrived on Tarmac relatively dry-shod.

            Somewhere along the road we came across an auldish fermer in his Land Rover, a cheery chap who was game for a blether and, as we are not averse to blethering ourselves, we stopped to hear his crack. He had been in Rex’s home town of Melbourne twice and thought it a beautiful city. Rex agreed, as did Peter who had also been ‘down under’. The Auld fellow might have blethered all day in his heated Land Rover but we were beginning to feel the January chill so we set off again. Unfortunately your scribe forgot to get the name of the auld chap but, since he was given a blog card, perhaps somebody out there will supply it for us.

Barely had we covered half a mile when the Land Rover pulled up beside us and the auld boy poked his head out. ‘I don’t come frae Melbourne’, said he, ‘I’m frae Benquat. Dae ye ken whaur that is?’ When we answered in the affirmative he seemed fairly pleased. This wasn’t the case of the woman in the car behind him though, who couldn’t get past for his Land Rover blocked the narrow road. When we pointed this out to him he moved his Land Rover and we moved ourselves.

There seems to be new spirit of adventure creeping into the Ooters for this New Year for, when we reached the Ayr bypass, we didn’t take the path we usually take down the left side of the river under Mainholm. No, we opted for the slippy pad down the side of the golf course on the right side. We carried on down this path as it gradually widened and developed into the broad well-made pathway in Craigie Park. Here we sat down for lunch – we had made it so we would eat it! Well, most of us had made it but Jimmy, who usually buys his sandwiches from the local garage, found the problem with the New Year holiday – the sandwiches would not be in the garage until the afternoon. Jimmy had a packet of dry tattie scones for lunch!

Lunch stop in Craigie Park

From our lunch stop it was only a matter of a fifteen minute walk to the bus stop on Ayr High Street for a bus back to Annbank. Yes, we’ve heard all the cracks about hill walkers taking buses but, hey, it’s the New Year so gie’s a break.

New Year’s FRT was taken in our usual Annbank howf, The Tap O’ The Brae where a toast was made to absent friends.

(*Not the word Peter used, but this blog might be read by people of a sensitive nature so mucky is the word used here)