15 November 2023 - Greenock and Kelly Cuts

 Hugh, Gus, Davie C, Kenny R, Paul, Rex, Dougie.

The pouring rain had your scribe questioning his sanity as he packed his car for the drive to Wemyss Bay.  The drive to Largs and beyond did nothing to assuage those thoughts yet, miracle of miracles, arrival at the railhead coincided with a complete lack of precipitation. The Kilmarnock and Troon contingents had arrived at the assigned hour, the Elderslie one was already aboard the Drumfrochar-bound train, but of the Ayr/Prestwick pair there was no sign ... though word had been received that they were behind schedule. They weren't concerned, they said, since they thought there would be no way we would be doing the planned walk. Mistake. As it was they made it with 4 minutes to spare.

There was a light drizzle when we alighted at delightful Drumfrochar and that's how it was for much of the day. Maps of the paper and electronic variety were produced and eventually we navigated our way off the platform. 

It's a steep climb from the station to Overton where we joined our familiar Greenock Cut circuit. We took the clockwise route to Cornalees.  If we'd had a leader we could have blamed him for going wrong at a bifurcation but as we climbed, Paul remarked that the view of Loch Thom wasn't the one we were used to - it looked smaller and further away - so the lead group about-turned, gathering up the stragglers on the way.

Cornalees was reached in time for coffee.  We found sheltered and covered seats in the lee of the buildings.  Seats for the first 5 to arrive, that is.  A kindly ranger invited us all indoors and after we politely turned down his offer he brought out two seats for the perpendicular pair.

From Cornalees we crossed over to the Kelly Cut.  Whereas the track to Cornalees was fully tarmaced the Kelly Cut path is rather more au naturel. The heavy rains had taken their toll and we had to pick our way through the floods and gushing burns feeding into Loch Daff.  "It's a bit bleak up here" mused Hugh as if it were a bad thing. To be fair it couldn't have been mistaken for Málaga but you could have been in the North West Highlands and you could certainly understand why the area doubles for Shetland.

There was no obvious spot for lunch so we just plonked ourselves down at the side of the path. 

The last three miles was a doddle, downhill to the caravan park just outside Wemyss Bay.  Here we left the main track and followed the river down through woodland. Pleasant enough although a few fallen trees had to be negotiated. And so we arrived back at the station - damp but far from drookit.  In fact it was a great walk through rugged terrain.

FRT was taken in the station bar where a pleasant hour was spent. Davie thought his first pint tasted a bit odd but it didn't stop him ordering another of the same.