Troon 15 August

Alan, Alan McQ, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Dougie, Gus, Jim, Jimmy, Johnny, Kenny T, Malcolm, Peter, Rex, Robert

Many thanks to Malcolm and Ann for their hospitality in providing coffee and bacon rolls for us prior to our walk. Much appreciated!

The walk was scheduled as our usual Smugglers’ Trail outing, but Derval Davie didn’t fancy the muddy track over the hill or the walk along the main road through Loans, so he suggested a circular walk starting at Fullarton Woods. We drove down, parked the cars, and set off in a slight drizzle. The weather forecast was for heavy showers but, in the event, the drizzle stopped within a few minutes and there was to be no more rain during our walk. In fact, the weather improved as the day went on, and we finished in warm sunshine.
But to our tale, or trail. We weren’t sure where Davie was leading us, but our first stop was at the wooden sculpture in the woods in memory of a young lad, Lachlan, who had died a couple of years earlier having fallen from a tree whilst playing in the woods. A couple out walking their dogs obligingly related the story to us. From there we started heading in to Troon and were surprised when we didn’t veer off just over the railway bridge and take the cycle path up towards the Pow Burn, as Davie had mentioned this earlier. Marching on we eventually came to McKay’s Bar, passed it by and made a beeline for Morrison’s. All was now revealed! Davie had forgotten his peece and needed to buy sandwiches. Aye, auld age disnae come itsel’.
Moving on we headed for the harbour but crossed over just beyond the Anchorage Bar and made the shore just south of the Ballast Bank. A decision was made (by someone) that we should turn right and go over the bank before turning back, and this we duly did. Just before midday we reached the public toilets where we commandeered the benches for a rest, brunch, lunch, whatever. The next stage was indeed to follow the Smugglers’ Trail in the reverse direction, along the beach and over the golf course before heading for Crosbie Kirk and the walk back to the cars.
The walk had taken about three and a quarter hours and was a tad over eight miles, allegedly! Those of us who had not taken their lunch earlier availed themselves of the picnic benches whilst the remainder set off home to prepare for the evening’s curry at the Taj in Prestwick to gloat at, commiserate with, celebrate Alan McQ’s imminent return to the chalk face.
We were joined for our meal by Francesco, Rex’s son in law, who spoke better English than some of us from the hinterlands of Ayrshire. Good to see him again! A most enjoyable time was had. We really should do this more often!
(see Alan's pictures below)