If it wisnae for the Ooters where wad ye be,
You'd be sittin' in the hoose or in the librarie,
Sae get aff yer chair, get oot the door an' come alang wi' me
For we're goin' for a walk wi' the Ooters.
(Tune: Gin it Wasnae for the Weavers)
Alan, Davie C, Davie MC, Gus, Jimmy, Rex & Robert
Despite the gloomy morning the forecast
was good. We were all slightly bemused by the light rain falling as we gathered
at Loch Doon castle for another round for the weather was supposed to clear
long before our appointed gathering time. Still, ever the optimists, we were
prepared to do the round of the Four Lochs as planned, even if it meant
waterproofs from the start. But just to be on the safe side, we chose to cut
out the two-three miles of road walk down the side of the loch to the Loch
Finlas road-end, instead leaving one car at the castle and driving down the
tarmac.
The surface of the forest road to
Finlas was slightly slimy thanks to work being carried out along it but it
might have been worse given all the rain of the last month or so. So we were in
carefree mood as we started off along it at a fairly brisk pace to get the
blood circulating after the car journey. Care had to be taken, though, when
passing the machinery clearing the ditches and brashing the road-side trees;
huge machines they were and capable of doing severe damage to any one of us or
to all of us together had they been used for that. Still, these monsters were
negotiated safely thanks to their drivers halting their work to let us pass.
Thank you, forestry workers. The footing
was firmer beyond the machinery and, wonder of wonders, the rain was gone. And
was that a brightening in the sky? We strode out along that road in light-hearted
mood, Jimmy and Robert setting a cracking pace. But they had the sense to call a
halt overlooking Loch Finlas. This let the sweaty dispose of their waterproofs;
there was no need of them for the rest of the day. Then on we went, leaving the
forest road behind and taking to the open moor.
The moorland was looking grand
today, the winter-dead grasses almost glowing in warm shades of yellow and
brown under the overcast sky. Loch Finlas looked cold though, the water slaty
grey and ruffled by ripples and wavelets blown northward by the freshening
wind. But there was no need for us to test the temperature of the water and the
wind was on our backs so we were cheery enough as we climbed the path to the
pass over to Loch Bradan. We met a couple coming in the opposite direction and,
as usual, stopped for a blether. Unfortunately the scribe forgot to get their
names so if you were the couple with the dog and are reading this could you
drop a comment with your names and we will give you a mention. This halt
allowed us all to come together again and together again we set off.
The unity didn’t last long though, the
slope up to the head of the pass taking its toll. From somewhere in the rear
Rex called for coffee (Why is it always Rex who calls for coffee? – Ed.) only
to be told there was a better spot ‘just up here’ barely ten minutes away. Half
an hour later we stopped for coffee on our usual spot overlooking Loch Bradan.
We were sheltered from the wind and our
surrounding were peaceful. A good half hour was spent having coffee/brunch
while we took in our surroundings, reminisced and listened to our bard sing
another three verses of ‘The Ooters’ Song’. But time wore on and it was time
for us to move on as well.
Down then we went, following the path to
the side of Loch Bradan. (Is there not a path all the way round this loch? –
Ed.) Once on the lochside path Rex and Jimmy took off like supercharged whippets
leaving the rest of us struggling in their wake. It’s a good thing that Davie
Mc is used to walking on his own for he stopped to tie a lace and found himself
way behind as the racers strode out in front. He walked on his own all the way
along the lochside. Even his faithful companion Holly abandoned him and it
wasn’t until we reached the Ballochbeatties forest road and a halt was called
that he managed to catch us up. Was he pleased or what? Still, we were all
together again and we walked on cheerfully enough, even if we had to suffer
Dave Mc’s complaining.
The next halt was called on the picnic
area overlooking Loch Riecawr. The walk from our halt overlooking Bradan had
taken barely an hour and a bittock but there were calls for still more coffee
and anther bite. Once again the surrounding were spectacular, even under a
cloudy sky. The cloud, though, was breaking and shafts of winter sunlight were
spotlighting the landscape. A break in the hill fog revealed snow cover on
Shalloch on Minnoch and Kirriereoch and we suspected on Merrick as well but
this peak held its cloud cover. Another blink of sun and the grey waters of Riecawr
were transformed to liquid silver before returning to gunmetal as the cloud
thickened again. And the patches of sunlight were becoming larger and appearing
more often. There was hope for a pleasant afternoon to finish the walk
Again the time came and we had to move on.
Leaving Riecawr behind, we kept to the forest road. Though we started off as
one group we were soon split again, this time into two groups. Rex, DavieMc,
Robert and Gus made up the fast one while Jimmy, Alan and Davie C made the more
leisurely one. Down through the forest
we came, down past the Blackcock lek, down out of the trees and onto the moor
to the south end of Loch Doon. Indeed a corner of the loch itself could be seen
as we wandered down the road. Then the full loch appeared as we rounded a
corner and looked down on the bridge over the Eglin Lane. Now a few hundred
metres lay between us and the single car parked at the castle. This last
stretch was taken at a leisurely pace for now the sun shone on the northern landscape
and lit Black Craig hill at the north end of the Kells range though hill fog
tenaciously clung to the rest of it.
Back at the castle, a logistical problem
had to be overcome. How do we get seven people down the road in one car? We
couldn’t of course so Rex drove the two other drivers down to the Loch Finlas
road-end and they in turn returned for the rest of us.
This was a thoroughly good day and we had
been blest with the weather yet again this week.
FRT was taken in our usual howf for this
area, the Dalmellington Inn in the town of that name.
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