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| At Drummochreen Cairn |
Allan, Davie
C, Davie Mc, Gus, Ian, Malcolm, Rex, Robert
Believe it
or not, the last time we did this walk was three years past in April when
we were ‘treated’ to some lunchtime entertainment by watching Souter Johnnie’s
Inn going up in flames.
Today
promised the highest temperatures of the year so far so with a plethora of
shorts, an ocean of sun cream, and an amazing assortment of hats, some of which
were possibly the fashion many moons ago, we set off down the Coral Glen and up
Allan’s Hill before following the path up past Kildoon Hill. The monument to
General Sir Charles Fergusson (Governor-general of New Zealand and Lord
Lieutenant of Ayrshire until he died in 1951 at Maybole) stood proud on the top
of Kildoon Hill but as on previous occasions we ignored the path to the
monument and continued on our way. It was hot with many sweaty bodies, but,
thankfully, there were plenty of occasions where we had some cloud cover to
make things a bit easier.
Our descent
allowed us to take to grassy fields beside the overgrown path and it wasn’t too
long before we hit tarmac again taking us past Sunny Brae and into the Ghaist
Glen. A short stop in the shade for coffee was called for, but, in truth, most replenished the fluids with water or juice.
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| Looking back to Fergusson's Monument |
Eventually
we ran out of the track and continued on a damp grass track beside the Green
well before emerging on to open landscape just prior to Drummochreen Cairn, a
reminder of Carrick’s bloody past. By now we were on a decent track and had a
view down into Dailly, but Kirkoswald was our target and we pressed on. As we
encountered a gate, Holly decided to hop over the fence at its side only to get
her leg trapped on the fence and for a second or three dangled upside down
until she freed herself. Sympathy and compassion was shown to her on a scale
unknown when an Ooter meets misfortune, but thankfully there was no visible
damage done and she was soon on her tireless way again. At the end of the track
we came to the gate where on our last outing here, there was some friction
involving a local farmer and his wife, but the less said about that the better.
Back on
tarmac, we walked along this quiet road until we reached the main road heading
for Kirkoswald. Taking a left soon after we found the grass track down in to
the village. Unfortunately, this path had become somewhat overgrown and those
i.e. the majority, wearing shorts had a difficult job trying to avoid the
nettles. At the bottom of this track we found the ford over the burn and made
our way up past the church and down past the now rebuilt Souter’s Inn.
As we
lunched in the graveyard, three hours after having set off, thought was given
to how we would get back to Maybole. Given the temperature, even Holly was
wabbit by now, the decision was made to travel back by bus. We decided to take our time over lunch and let the first bus go, giving us time for a lazy and
well-deserved beer in Souter’s. The next bus duly arrived and dropped us at
the station in Maybole, a stone’s throw from the cars. Needless to say, another
beer was called for at the Greenside, but since meals were being served, Holly
was not allowed in, so we went round the back to the less than salubrious beer
garden with its array of waste bins and broken down garden furniture. It did
its purpose however and we stayed there long enough for the first drops of rain
to arrive. The rain came to nothing and we headed home after another guid day
oot.
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| April 2012 |
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| July 2015 |
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