Annbank 7th January

Alan McQ, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Dougie, Gus, Hugh, Jimmy, Johnny, Paul, Rex, Robert

The previous days had been really cold with temperatures not rising much above zero during the day and, although not as cold, there was a biting breeze as we assembled in Annbank. Derval Davie said he was just going to do the anticlockwise route to the Wallace and Bruce monument and come back the same way and was joined for company by Alan, Allan, Johnny and Robert while the rest chose to go in the longer clockwise direction.

The five made good progress in nice walking conditions, particularly when sheltered from the breeze, and encountered better than expected underfoot conditions with not too many muddy sections enabling them to reach the monument after fifty minutes. Coffee was taken during which Alan suggested continuing on a path down the river for a bit just to extend the walk. This was agreed on the understanding that it would not be too far as they were keen that Davie didn’t suffer too much discomfort with his back. This path was new to most but after ten minutes or so they decided that it was time to turn back and head to the monument and then up to Oswald House. From there they passed by the café and then took the high path back to the cars arriving back at quarter to one. On checking the internet to make sure it was open, they made the short journey down to the Tap o’ the Brae to await the magnificent? seven. Jings and crivens!, the pub was shut and, with no signs of it opening soon, a decision was taken to motor to the Black Bull in Mauchline. Robert managed to contact Rex and tell him of the plan and was informed that they were still at the monument. The five boys, arrived at the pub just after one and were, as usual, welcomed with open arms by Karen, the barmaid, and then settled in for a cosy wait.

The larger group had, as had been expected, experienced some mud on their journey and had also witnessed a cow somersaulting down a field much to its injury, true or was it just bullshit? Anyway, they had lunch at the monument before taking the shorter route back to their cars having covered seven and a half miles, two miles more than the others. It was two o’clock before they arrived at the Black Bull and all then relaxed there until quarter past three. We were treated today not just with sausage rolls, but mince pies and Quality Street sweets as well. Many thanks again to Karen.

A good start to the year and we hope that Hugh’s knee (he had fallen on an icy pavement before leaving Kilmarnock in the morning) recovers soon.

 

Images of the walk from Coylton to Auchincruive

featuring Alan McQ, Allan, Davie C, Dougie, Francesco, Graham, Gus, Hugh, Jimmy, Malcolm, Paul, Rex and Robert

Images of the walk between Annbank and Auchincruive

featuring Alan McQ, Alan S, Allan, Dan, Davie C, Davie McM, Gus, Iain, Ian, Jim, Jimmy, Kenny T and Rex

Some images of the walk from Annbank to Ayr featuring Alan McQ, Davie C, Gus and Robert.

    Definitely a day for umbrellas, but Gus seems to be having
     some difficulty in getting his up!


    Starting off our walk from Annbank and it's wet. Very wet.


    The trees helped to shelter us from the worst of the weather,
     but watch out for those big drips.


    Alongside the River Ayr...


    ...into Auchincruive.


    Taking a new route through the Newbarns Wood,


    and through the glaur!


    "This weather messes up my hair!"


    Taking a combined coffee and lunch stop beneath the A77
     at Holmston.


    It had certainly brightened up by the time we reached Ayr.


    In fact, it was shorts and T-shirt weather!

18 January Annbank - Auchincruive Circuit & The Burns Supper

Allan, Andy, Davie C, Davie Mc, Jimmy, Johnny, Paul, Rex, Robert & Ronnie

Today’s walk was to be short for this was the night of our inaugural Burns Supper and Johnny had to get home early to peel the tatties. Just as well for the weather was as it has been for a few weeks now, dull, damp and dreich. Surprisingly, given the weather and the nature of the evening ahead, most of us turned up at Annbank bowling club car park for a short walk over very familiar ground. This number included Rex who had returned prematurely from his holiday in New Zealand – he just can’t stay away from us for too long.

The walk has been well described in these pages the past ( December 2010 and 2 sep 2009 and others) so there is no need for further description here. Suffice to say we wandered down to the river and on to Auchincruive House and the Burns/Wallace monument for coffee. Considering the day, this was an appropriate place to have coffee. Some thought of returning by the same route, and one even thought of going downstream to the next bridge. But, when it was pointed out that the next bridge was on the Ayr bypass, he changed his mind and went with the consensus that we return on the south side of the river.

This is exactly what we did, returning by the River Ayr Way past Wallace’s Seat and Tarholm Bridge to the confluence of Ayr and Coyle. Here we stopped for a bite to eat then continued up the river to Privick Mill and back to Annbank.

There was no FRT today for Johnny would need all the time for his preparation for our shindig later.

Later than evening we gathered in Johnny’s place in Irvine for our inaugural Burns Supper. As you can see from Allan’s pictures below, the night was a great success with everybody contributing to the merriment. The scribe can say that the evening started off well but can’t say for certain how it ended. ‘The nicht drave on wi’ sangs an’ clatter and aye the usquabae grew better’. He can only hope that he was in a better state than the chairman when he got home. Johnny’s video should be very enlightening. But, Johnny, we are pensioners and can’t afford the blackmail money. ‘We were fu and unco happy’

Our collective thanks go to Johnny for hosting this event and we look forward to the next one.

1 June No, Not Ailsa Craig – Annbank to Ayr

Allan, Davie, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Malcolm, Peter, Paul & Robert

Weather-wise the month of May has been a disappointment; surely the month of June will be better. Not so today, though, for, even though the overnight rain had gone by the morning, the trip to Ailsa Craig was cancelled due to high winds in the Firth. So it was back to an old favourite for our walk today – that stretch of the River Ayr Way from Annbank to Ayr.

Despite the overcast conditions, nine of us gathered at the bowling green in Annbank. It was good to see Holly out with us again after such a long absence looking after her mistress with the broken ankle. And she seemed just as delighted to see us as we were to see her, running from one to another of us to announce her presence and fetching empty plastic bottles for us to kick across the car park. It would be pleasure to fling sticks in the river for her again.

Oh, and Davie was back as well.

We had a choice of routes to start the walk; we could go directly to Auchincruive by the woodland path, go down to the river at Privick Mill, or turn back on ourselves and go down to Gadgirth Brig and pick up the path from there. It was the middle option that was chosen simply because that’s the way that Robert and Johnny sauntered off.

The route has been travelled many times before (22/12/2010, 2/06/2010 et al) so needs no further description here, being very familiar to us all. Well, when I say familiar to all I mean to most of us. Johnny, who has travelled this way with us before couldn’t remember any of it. So for Johnny’s sake the first part of the route will be described. (Please commit to memory, Mr. Matthews.)

We followed Johnny and Robert south-westward along Weston Avenue for they obviously knew where they were going. But it would seem that Johnny wasn’t alone in not remembering the route. When we came to Braeside and the turn-off for Mill Road, both he and Robert were for walking on. But, considerate souls that we are, we called them back after a few minutes and pointed them in the right direction. Now, with the errant twosome back with us, we came down Mill Road and took the track down towards the Privick Mill and the River Ayr Way. Even when we reached the fishery, Johnny couldn’t remember ever having come this way. When we reminded him of the last time we had come this way in December 2009 when the road was covered in treacherous wet ice, a vague memory began to stir. But it was not until we turned off the road and came down to the river at the fisher’s hole called Millhole that a switch turned on in his brain and a full recollection dawned. Welcome back into the world Mr. Matthews.

The rest of the walk went by without great incident. We followed the River Ayr Way for the rest of it.

Coffee was taken overlooking another fishing pool called Big Beth. Peter left us at Tarholm Bridge for he had errands to run. Lunch was taken at the Leglen Wood Monument at Auchincruive. It was not until we were on the road by Mainholm Smallholdings that the next notable thing happened. We were split into two groups – the speedsters to the front and the sensible to the rear – when we heard a car approaching from the front. The first group stepped aside to let it the Range Rover pass and were acknowledged by the driver. At the coo’s-tail group the Rover pulled to a halt, the driver opened the window and asked ‘Are you the Early Ooters?’ Fame at last! ‘Ye-e-e-s’ we said, cautiously. It turned out that the driver of the Rover was a regular reader of this blog and was delighted to meet us in person. We were delighted to find out that we had a fan. So delighted in fact that we were remiss; we forgot to get our fan’s name so that we could give him a mention. So if you were that driver of that silver Range Rover please make a comment below and leave your name with us so that we can give you a mention in future.

The first group followed the road to the bypass and over the bridge; the tail-enders took a short cut over the stepping stones. The two groups came together on the south side of the river at the stepping stones. How different the conditions were from the last time we were here back in December. Then the river was chock-full with slabs of ice; today it flowed deep, slow and dark. Anglers fished it at various places between the steppies and the town. A cormorant fished it at the Dam then perched itself on a rock, shook the water from its wings and spread them wide to dry in the breeze. All this was noted as we came on down the river into the town.

The Annbank bus was due ten minutes after we arrived at the bus station and it duly arrived on time. It took it fully half hour to make the journey back to Annbank and a welcome FRT in The Tap O’ The Brae.

30 December Annbank to Auchincruive Circular or An Ice Day For A Walk

The snow that caused the cancellation of last week’s walk lay for over a week and, except where feet and wheels had compressed it, it lay soft and powdery. A slight thaw yesterday and an overnight frost combined to turn the compressed stuff into ice, and light rain this morning added a watery skim to the surface of this making underfoot conditions treacherous. Later in the day we were to discover just how treacherous. Still, at least the roads were clear which meant we could travel today. That saw seven of us make the trip to Annbank for the short walk to Auchincruive and back.
We gathered in the ice-covered car park of the Annbank Bowling Club. Some say that the Ooters are old and set in their ways. Today we were to disprove this theory, well at least in part. A momentous decision was made. We would do the walk in the reverse of the way we usually go. Does this foretell a change in the attitude of the Ooters? We will wait and see.
Anyway, slithering our way over the ice of the car park we came to the cleared tarmac of the main road. Walking up the middle of the road seemed the safest option and this is what we did, straggling up the main street and only stepping on to the icy snow to let traffic past. Not that we were a danger to traffic in any way for Davie had his luminous yellow jacket on, a jacket that can probably be seen from the moon on a clear night, so should be eminently visible to oncoming vehicles here on earth. We proceeded in relative safety along the road.
It was noted with some surprise by the cynics that the Christmas tree in the village square, though unguarded, still had all its lights intact. ‘Aye, but ye’re no’ in Kilmaurnock noo’ was the response from our east county man. But full credit must go to the citizens of Annbank for this.
The good walking on tarmac took us through the village to Mill Road. Now we left the safety of the black tarmac and took to the icy Mill Farm track. This runs steeply downhill towards the river and proved extremely tricky today especially to those with Vibram soles. The few spots of rain falling on the ice made it particularly slippy and feet had to be placed judiciously to avoid mishap; on the McGarry scale this was definitely a ten plus. Davie, just to prove the point, decided to demonstrate his old ice skating skills by landing on his arse on the wet ice. Not content with this, he showed us his impression of ‘Dancing on Ice’ as he tried to regain his feet. Did we laugh? Course we did. Wet arse for Davie though.
Allan was being particularly careful on the down slope and the brave/rash/stupid* waited on the more level ground at the foot of the hill for him to catch up. It was now that the rain came seriously and added its wetness to the lying ice. And ice covered the path down to the river. Great care had to be taken once more. Even on the level, feet slipped and slithered, and it was fortunate for us that there was a path-side fence to hang onto or more might have had wet bottoms. We never thought that crampons might be useful at this low level. But they might have been, if we had them.
But the rain didn’t last long and the ice eventually gave way to crunchy snow. We were now on the holm by the fishing pools of Wee Beth and Big Beth, and some decided the best option was to cut a corner and cross this holm. But Jimmy and Rex were out for a walk and kept to the longer pathway by the side of the river. We thought they might just want to be alone so left them to it and crossed the field. A cormorant stood on a snow covered boulder in the river like it was frozen to the spot. Rex stopped for a picture. Jimmy walked on to join the rest of us where the path enters the trees by the riverside. Rex joined us a few minutes later.
The path narrowed in the trees for it crossed a steep slope running up from the river and we were strung along it in Indian file. Some ice did patch the path but overall it was good walking until we left the shelter of the trees. We were now on another holm with other fishing holes. Again, the fence was an aid on the slippery ice-covered path.
Perhaps this was where Jimmy sustained the damage; we will never know for sure for even he doesn’t know where it happened. All we know is that when we stopped for coffee in one of the anglers' shelters, blood flowed freely from the back of Jimmy’s hand and dripped into the dry sand. Whether it was to celebrate the impending New Year or to ward off any shock that Jimmy might be experiencing we are not sure but Allan produced a hip flask and proceeded to fortify the coffees with Chevas Regal. Those without coffee, including the injured Jimmy, just took the crature neat. The remedy worked for the blood dried on Jimmy’s hand and not one of us fainted at the sight it. We feel that Allan should bring his hip flask more often – just in case of emergencies like this.
Now, well bolstered against the cold, we set off again.
We crossed the holm to the corner of another wooded slope. Again, the path narrowed as it crossed the slope, and again we were reduced to single file. Nothing as easy as a grassy bank this time though. Cliffs of limestone underpinned by friable shale rose vertically above us on the right, and on the left, the bank fell nearly as steeply into the river. This has never given us a problem before for the path is wide enough and the ground is stable underfoot. But today was different. The path was icy and slippery. New rock falls – the result of the prolonged cold snap?- spilled over it and these also were coated in watery ice. The going was treacherous and a slip here would surely have precipitated the unfortunate into four feet of freezing water. This was surely the most hair-raising part of the walk – so far. However, by carefully finding a rare half-inch of less frozen snow and by grabbing at tree trunks, roots and tussock of lank grass growing out of the shale, we managed to cross our hundred metres of mauvais pas without mishap, much to the relief of everyone. Easier going now brought us to Tarholm Bridge.
Some thought about turning back up the road to Annbank but Bob’s assertion that the path would be ice-free from now on, ‘because it’s through the trees’, brought them back into the fold. We all crossed the bridge to the south side of the river. Robert, with the eye of the artist, saw the watery winter sun light up the snow and reflect in the still water of the river and stopped to photograph it. We look forward to seeing the resultant picture on the blog.
Bob was nearly right in his assertion. For the most part the path was ice-free but, on the rise toward Wallace’s Seat, we came across more of the slippy stuff. This wasn’t nearly as difficult as we had encountered earlier but it was enough to have Allan scrabbling about on all fours trying to avoid a wet bum. Fortunately, most of the group were to the front and missed Allan’s antics but those who witnessed it sympathised in the usual way.
We didn’t stop at Wallace’s Seat – another first for the Ooters – but continued on the low path for Auchincruive. Davie, Robert and Rex set the pace with Allan and Jimmy bringing up the tail. Ian and Ronnie, for reasons known only to them, decided not to follow the leaders on the path but to continue along the old railway but, being hailed from above by the advance group, soon learned the error of their ways. Ian climbed the steep bank to join the rest of us but Ronnie, having nothing to do with such strenuous activity, continued on his way. The rest of us headed down toward the river again.
Rather than risk the icy path beside the river, we took to the field and came to the fishers’ shelter for lunch. Here we found the lost Ronnie. He had taken a shorter way than we had and arrived at the shelter immediately before us. We took our peece in the shelter.
From the shelter to Oswald’s Brig was a matter of fifty metres or so, but icy metres. Again, with a little care we covered the distance without accident. We crossed the brig, and turned right onto the drive of Auchincruive House and immediately found the ice again, even on the tarmac of the drive. But the worst was to come when we left the drive and took to the walkway under the gardens. Wet, rutted ice covered the path between the garden wall and the riverside parapet. It was almost impossible to find secure footing. And totally impossible to avoid the ice. However, by keeping to the edge of the walkway and finding the occasional loose patch in the ice, we slithered our way past the retaining wall and the informal garden to the garden wall. Now came the most difficult part of the entire day. The stone-built stile in the wall was coated in two or three inches of wet ice. Cautiously placing one foot before moving the other and hanging onto the wall as best we could, each took it in turn crossing the stile, being supported, and guided by the others. (Remember, ‘compassion’ is the new watchword of the Ooters) It is pleasing to note, and somewhat surprising given the severity of the obstacle, that all came safely over the stile.
We left our difficulties behind us at the style for we were now back into a wooded area and the ice was less severe; we could almost walk normally. We followed the path past the remains of the old railway, up beside a burn whose name has been forgotten by the scribe and back into Annbank.

We've done this walk many times before and it has given us no problems in the past. But, given the underfoot conditions today, it was a severe test and we suspect some stiff legs in the morning.

FRT was taken in The Tap O’ The Brae, but this time inside and not on the veranda.

*Delete as you think appropriate.

2 September Auchincruive 4 - Another Halcyon Day or 'Whit Bloody Kingfisher'

There was a roaring in the wind all night,
The rain came heavily and fell in floods,
But now the sun was shining, calm and bright,
The birds were singing in the distant woods.
William Wordsworth

Peter had a sare back so missed the walk today. This was a great pity for it was Peter’s kind of walk, it was in one of his favourite parts of the county and, for something of a change this summer, the sun shone and the air was warm. But he had a sare back and missed it. However, nine of us gathered at Annbank Bowling Green car park for an excursion by the River Ayr. (Ronnie was the other absentee, having had a better offer)
We have done this walk many times before as a group yet was still new territory for some of us and we looked forward to an easy and interesting walk in the sun.
Holly led us away from the car park down through a wee wooded area on a footpath still wet and muddy from the summer’s rain. She obviously remembered the route well for she took us down through the wood to the path beside the river, a river that ran deep and brown, swollen once again by another night’s rain. But the sun shone on us this morning and we enjoyed the walk down the river into Auchincruive policies.
We stopped as we cleared the trees, came through the perimeter wall and the river scene opened out to us. Some sat on the riverside wall, some stood around, but all enjoyed the view downriver and the welcome sunshine. Somebody mentioned coffee but Davie suggested we wait until we get to the Burns Monument for there were seats there. And, anyway, that’s where we always have coffee. We all agreed to wait but this didn’t stop Ian devouring his first roll of the day.
We came to Auchincruive House. Davie and Robert were for walking on but a shout from the rest brought them back for we were for a closer view of the old house. The original part of the house dates from the middle of the eighteenth and was built for the Oswald family to a design by Robert Adam. Though it has been extended and altered since then, the original facade is still obvious. A header on one of the rone-pipe bears the date 1767, possibly the date the house was finished. As Oswald Hall, it was incorporated into the Scottish Agricultural College as halls of residence but it now houses a banqueting hall, conference centre and various business offices.

We crossed Oswald’s bridge and came to the Leglen Wood and the cairn commemorating the area’s connection with both Wallace and Burns. Here, we took coffee.
After a longer coffee break than we have been used to these past few months, we left the cairn, crossed the road and took the fishers’ path up the river. Two herons flapped their lazy way downstream and a buzzard could be heard ‘meowing’ above the trees. The latter was seen as we started the climb to the old Ayr to Annbank railway.
The walk through the woods above the railway cutting was a delight. ‘The light is super’, said Johnny, our official photographer ‘almost spring-like’. He wasn’t wrong. The sun shone through the foliage turning it bright spring green and dappling the tree trunks with spots of summer light. His camera clicked as he tried to capture the scene for us. We look forward to seeing the pictures.
The woodland continued as we climbed above the river to Wallace’s Seat where, on the crag high above the water with superb views up and down the river, we halted again. Ten or fifteen minutes we sat there while the newcomers admired the view and the old-timers blethered in their usual manner. But, wooden benches are hard on auld bones and either sair bums or itchy feet began to tell. We were off again.
The trees gave way briefly and we emerged onto the road at Tarholm bridge. From path on the other side of the bridge appeared a man with a dog that barked furiously at Holly. The dog was reined in to be put into the car parked there and the man stood aside to let us past. In passing, Allan said to no one in particular, ‘That chap’s from Fenwick’, and walked on. Of course, the shy Jimmy and Robert had to make inquiries. By the time the inquisitors had done their stuff and found out once more that it was nice to have a dry day for a change; yes, the man was from Fenwick – forty-one years ago; yes, he remembered Allan when his name was mentioned - his sister and Allan’s were friends, the bold Allan was a hundred metres up the fishers’ path with the rest of the uninterested.
As the crags gave way to a broad grassy holm, the need to eat was felt. On a seat by a shallow sloping bank opposite the point where the Coyle adds its waters to the main river, we sat to eat, to eat and to laze in the sun. Holly was for none of this lazing about; she is far too young for that. Robert obliged by throwing a stick into the water for her. Playing water-sticks is one of Holly’s favourites. This ploy was successful until the time he threw it slightly too far and the puir dug was swept downstream in the flood making landfall some fifty metres below us. Robert gave up at this point, not so Holly. Johnny was next choice for games and stood by the bank while Holly showed him how to swim. And the rest of us lazed and watched. For a good while we lazed and watched.
‘Kingfisher!’ yelled Allan and all eyes turned towards the river to watch a dot of sapphire and orange streak up the water; all eyes except Robert’s that is. ‘Where, where?’ shouted he, but such was the speed of the bird that by the time it was pointed out to Bob, it had moved on. He missed it. He still hasn’t seen a Kingfisher and is beginning to doubt the existence of such a creature, accusing us of inventing it just to tease him. As if.
The birders were delighted though, for not only had we seen a kingfisher but five herons, two buzzards, a single kestrel and a grey wagtail had also been spotted.

Irrespective of the length of the walk or the warmth of the day or the luxury for this year of lazing in the sun, there comes a time when we have to move on. We had reached this time now. We walked on.
We were now on the sunny side of the river, on the fishers’ path that took us underneath the sandstone and shale crags that are a feature of this stretch of the water. The sun was warm and bright on our faces and edged the ripples of the water with silver. More than one of us took the opportunity to get some good pictures.
Then the crags gave way to another grassy holm. Two hundred metres or so upstream stood two men, blethering. When we got nearer, we could see a fine big salmon lying at their feet. One of them, Owen Clark, had landed it earlier in the day. An eleven pounder it was, and took some time to land according to Owen who was ‘seeventy-two' and had ‘been oot fae seeven o’clock this mornin’’ and was ‘knackered’. Like most fishers, Owen doesn’t eat the fish he catches but gives it away but despite pleas from the fish eaters amongst us, he refused to give it to us for he had somebody in mind for it. Johnny took his picture and gave him a blog card so that he could see the picture on the internet. Then we wished him well, left him to blether on to his companion and walked on upstream.
We were now barely a mile from the cars, a mile that was taken at a leisurely pace as befitted the day and we arrived at the cars around two o’clock.

Fluid replacement therapy was administered in The Tap o’ the Brae. We sat outside on the decking taking in some more sun and looking down the valley of the Ayr to the coast and Arran beyond. ‘A good day’, was the general opinion. ‘And nice to see the kingfisher’, said one. ‘Whit bloody kingfisher!’ exclaimed a frustrated Robert.

PS. The rain came back around five o’clock

02 Sept 2009 Annbank - Auchincruive