Glenbuck and Hareshaw Hill 27 July

Alan, Alan McQ, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Hugh, Malcolm, Paul, Rex, Robert

As a group, we had done this walk, from Glenbuck over Hareshaw Hill, last August, and today we were presented with similar bright and sunny conditions, albeit a few degrees cooler than last time. Walking up from the heritage village we were looking down into the ‘big hole’ after half an hour or so, whereupon Derval Davie took Alan McQ and Paul down to the water’s edge whilst the rest remained outside the fence.

 

 

Being creatures of habit, we stopped for coffee at our usual spot at the flat stones before our climb up the windfarm road to the top of the hill. Just as we stopped, Isla spotted a leveret, or was it a baby rabbit? and tore after it. Luckily, Davie managed to call her off before any damage was done and the wee creature ran away seemingly unscathed.

The climb sorted the men from the boys, or maybe the sheep from the goats, and whereas DD indicated that, on looking at his watch, Mickey Mouse said that it had taken him and his minders twenty-one minutes to do the climb from our coffee spot, your scribe took half an hour and, remarkably, he wasn’t the last. The views of the surrounding countryside were excellent, and Robert suggested having lunch at the top, but with it only being about twenty to twelve, he was overruled in favour of stopping at the side of Glenbuck Loch.

 

And so, the steep descent of the grassy hill began, with it suiting some, whereas others found the descent to be the hardest part, given the pounding that the knees were taking. Forty minutes later we were well settled for lunch and a bit of relaxation.

  

Normally we would have walked round the loch before heading back to the cars but, surprisingly, not today, as the consensus was to simply make our way back from our lunch spot. We were back at the cars at one o’clock having covered about six miles and looked forward to our FRT at the Black Bull in Mauchline.

A very enjoyable hour was spent in the sitooterie at the back of the pub where, as usual, the world was put to rights.