Alan, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc,
Dougie, Gus, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Kenny T, Rex, Robert
The day’s plan was to meet at the
entrance to Chalmerston opencast mine on the outskirts of Dalmellington and climb
Benbeoch (464m). We were graced with good weather for the third week in a row
and soon were on our way, led by Derval Davie, resplendent in new boots.
There was a steady relentless climb
up the mine roads (the mine is now disused and so other than a farmer in his
4x4 we had no traffic to contend with) and soon, as tradition dictates, we were
strung out over a fair distance. Those with cameras took time to stop and take
in the ever-improving views as the early morning mists and low cloud cleared
from the distant hills. When our chosen track ran out we took to the open
ground and made our way up a rough overgrown path which followed a stone wall.
Care had to be taken as there were holes and wee gullies hidden underfoot, but
we reached the base of the summit relatively unscathed. The final leg led to a
schism with most taking a leftward turn to make the steep climb and the other a
right. This section was harder going over the long grass but all made it to the
top, eventually, with those taking the sinister
route just beating the dexters.*
At the cairn, coffee was taken whilst
the panorama was enjoyed. Over to Loch Doon, Carlin’s Cairn and Shalloch on Minnoch
and beyond, across to Mochrum Hill, Maybole, Ailsa Craig and Arran, round to
Whitelee and much to Jimmy’s annoyance, Auchinleck! We obviously had a bird’s
eye view of Dalmellington and Burnton, (or was it Craigmark?) and could see the
mine workings in all their glory.
When it was time to move off, the
main group decided to go down the side of the hill and extend the walk, whereas
Allan and Johnny retraced their steps and were back at their car three hours
after setting off.
The Irvine boys made the right decision for
sections of what followed would not have been to their liking at all. We
decided to drop down in a north-easterly direction following Davie Mc’s
instructions; ‘We’ll make for that road for it looks as though it will take us
back to the opencast road we came up’. So make for the road we did. We came
down a steepish slope of lank grasses and deep moss. This should have been easy enough but the
moss held hidden boulders and holes lying in wait to trap the unwary. And some of us fell into (literally) the
traps. But we all made the bottom of the slope eventually with only the occasional
expletive uttered.
How come things that look close from height somehow
move further away once you lose sight of them? Once we had reached more level
ground it seemed ages of trudging through tussocky moorland before we reached
the comfort of the road. But make the road we did, a broad road and fairly level,
and the walking was easy.
Any thoughts we might have had that our leader for
the day knew exactly where he was going were dispelled at the first fork in the
road. ‘Which way?’ we asked. ‘That looks as though it will take us round to the
trees and the road we came up’ he tentatively suggested. We took
his advice and took the left hand branch. It ran out after half a mile or so.
But, and it was a ‘but’ that saved our leader from utter ignominy and the gibes of those who know
better, another ‘road’ was spotted barely four hundred metres away. Another
yomp was called for. It was a harder yomp than the first and considerably
wetter but we all made the safety of the 'road' and with comparatively dry feet.
Again the going was easy.
Once again the ‘road’ gave out and another trudge
through the moor grasses was needed for we could see a much broader and more substantial
road not too far away. We made that road without incident. Well most of us did.
Barely ten metres from safety Rex decided to do a summersault and landed spread-eagled
on his back in a hollow. Lying there like a stranded sheep, Rex could only call
for help while those of us with him stood around and offered advice. The poor
soul was eventually rescued by the compassionate Robert and Rex was soon in the
upright again none the worse for his mishap.
Our new road proved to be the one we should have been on in the first
place and it did take us down past the opencast workings and back to the start.
What a delight it was walking downward into the late October sunshine.
There was no
sign of the Irvine boys and we guessed what had happened to them. However, even
without them, an enjoyable recovery was made in our usual howff in
Dalmellington where we were treated as long lost friends by the hostess. Our
thanks to the Dalmellington Inn for the snacks provided.
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