Tuesday, 25 August 2015

19 August Muirkirk to Sanquhar – Tenth Anniversary Walk



Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Jimmy, Paul, Peter & Robert.

On the third Thursday of August, 2005 (the eighteenth, if memory serves) three newly retired teachers from Kilmarnock Academy went for a walk. Little did they know that ten years later they would still be walking together for this was the genesis of the walking group known as The Early Ooters. The walk they chose was the old turnpike road from Muirkirk in Ayrshire to Sanquhar in Dumfriesshire. Ten years almost to the day we decided to commemorate the birth of the Ooters by doing the walk that led to its creation.
It was slightly disappointing to note that only seven turned out for what is a long but easy walk but those who did turn up were treated to an enjoyable day out. The walk has been described in these pages at least once before and really needs no further description here. It follows the long abandoned eighteenth century turnpike through the wild moorland of east Ayrshire to the more verdant pastures of Nithsdale in Dumfriesshire. We find that it is always better to walk from Muirkirk for the sign there says that Sanquhar is twelve miles away whereas the sign in Sanquhar says that Muirkirk is seventeen miles away and we object to walking further than we need to. So, Muirkirk was our starting point and we took the bus from Cumnock to Muirkirk.
            We set off along the old road passing the usual landmarks - McAdam’s Cairn, The Whisky Knowe and the Sanquhar brig. So far the old road has been well maintained and the going easy. But beyond the Sanquhar Brig, on the climb to the head of the pass, the road has been abandoned and nature is taking over again. The going was reduced to good sections of road interspersed with rutted, wet bits. The pace was slowed accordingly.
Half way up the climb we came across a new landmark: A shiny, new metal seat has been placed here in memory of Bert Bradford (1955-2015). That Bert was a fisher was clear from the fretwork of the back but why his seat should be placed here, well away from any fishing water, is a source of speculation to the imaginative amongst us.
At the top of the brae we came to the part of the old road that has been a long time abandoned - nigh on two hundred years abandoned - and exists now only as a level section through the moss. Only where water has cut across it can the surface of the road be seen; the rest has been returned to the moss – the soggy and wet moss. We squelched through this for the next mile and bittock, avoiding the worst of the wet as far as possible though wet feet were had by the unwary. At the cleft known as the Ra’en’s Cleugh we settled down for our first coffee of the day.
On the other side of the cleugh the going was considerably drier and the road more obvious again and we could look around us instead of constantly watching where we put feet. There was a suggestion that we take in the Deil’s Back Door while we were her but this was rejected by six votes to one. (Actually we didn’t take a vote: It was simply said to the proposer ‘Awa an’ bile yer heid’. Or words to that effect.) We walked on to the edge of the forest where we left Ayrshire and entered Dumfriesshire.
The last time we came this way the path through the trees provided some difficulty being wet, muddy and overgrown. Surprisingly, given the wet summer, this was dry today and not as overgrown as we remembered. We found the forest road without difficulty, the forest road that follows exactly the line of the old turnpike. A sign here told us that Sanquhar was eight miles way and Muirkirk seven. We would follow this road downward for the next three miles to Fingland. A mile or so later another sign told us that Sanquhar was eight miles away and Muirkirk seven. Eh! A third sign giving us exactly the same information would be found further down the road. A couple of red deer hinds were startled by our approach and took off down the road in front of us before taking to the open hill. (Unfortunately the pair at the front who stopped to remove jackets missed them.) The path up to the Blackgannoch conventicle stone was noted in the passing but there was no visit today. Then we arrived at Fingland and a lunch stop was called.
As has already been said, this was an anniversary walk and Peter, one of the original three, dug into his rucksack and produced an anniversary cake. Unfortunately it was too windy to light the candle but the cake was appreciated and devoured with relish. Thanks Peter.
We found the tarmac at Fingland, tarmac we would follow all the way into Sanquhar. We also found the second and probably the longest climb of the day. And the rain came. It was a hot steamy climb to the top of the Bale Hill pass under waterpoofs. Then the rain went and waterproofs could be dispensed with. And now it was downhill. We could see Sanquhar lying down in the valley some two to three miles way but no matter how far we walked the town never seemed to get any closer. Down we walked. On the other side of the valley a great swathe of drizzle obscured the hill but yet we were in the dry. Sanquhar never got any closer. Another mile down the road and Sanquhar didn’t get any closer. This state of affairs continued until we crossed the railway bridge and suddenly we were crossing the Crawick Water and entering Sanquhar.
The feeling was that we should get the next bus back to Cumnock for FRT. So we headed for the nearest bus stop, the one at the police station, and waited ten minutes for the bus to arrive. FRT was taken in our usual howf, The Sun, in Cumnock.
Now, for our twentieth anniversary ...............................

No comments: