Tumbin’
broon, the burn comes doon,
And roars
frae bank tae brae,
And bird and
beast in covert rest,
And spend
the heartless day.
For the third week in a row the weather gods conspired against us. The
deluge of the night continued into the day and left us with a torrent of rain
at our rendezvous in Sorn. Therefore, our plans for the day – Blacksidend Hill
- were abandoned in favour of a lower
level walk along the banks of the River Ayr from Sorn to as far as we thought
sensible. We have covered this walk so many times that it needs no further
description except to say that it was wet and we have never seen the river so
high on this stretch. Over the old brig we went following the River Ayr Way.
We thought we had nearly lost Jimmy here. He stopped to photograph the
river at the old brig and the branch he was using as support as he clambered
down the bank gave way and we thought we would have to recover his body from
the river at Ayr harbour. But the benefit of being a short-arse with a low
centre of gravity meant that he regained his balance, took his picture and re-joined
us none the worse for his experience.
The rest of the walk was uneventful but wet and we plodded on
downstream towards Catrine with only the occasional halt to photograph the
river in spate. The water was curling back on itself as it tried fall over the
dam at Catrine and this afforded another stop for pictures before we plodded
soggily along. Some suggestion was made
for coffee and cake in the Cotton Trail in Catrine and, given the conditions
this was gratefully accepted by all. Well nearly all for Davie Mc, thinking the
dog would not be welcome (erroneously as it happens), decided to walk on a bit
further. Oh, how the warmth and the dry of that tearoom was welcomed and fairly
cheered us up and our thanks must go to Eddie and his staff for making us feel
welcome.
But all good things must come to an end and we were soon back out in
the rain where we were joined by Davie and Holly. The decision, sensible it
seems now, was to return to Sorn by the same route and this we did but with
fewer picture stops this time.
We returned to the cars before the noon bells had chimed and in fact
some of us were taking FRT in the Black Bull in Mauchline before this. The
Black Bull is rapidly becoming a favourite howff of ours and is well on its way
to becoming our pub of the year for the hospitality extended to us. We will be
back.
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