23 June Grey Mare’s Tail, Loch Skene & Lochcraighead

Every good spell of weather comes to an end eventually. But why today, Lord? Of all days, why today? The morning was overcast when we met at Davie’s in Darvel. This didn’t trouble us unduly for every morning this week has started off overcast but the sun has burnt the cloud off and left us with glorious mid-summer sunshine. So why should today be any different. We decided the planned walk was on.
We made the long drive through to Moffat and the Grey Mare’s Tail. The Moffat water was dry, a sign of how dry and warm June has been. Yet the sky remained overcast and the mist hung low on the hill. But it would burn off. Wouldn’t it? A coolness in the air greeted us when we left the cars in the Grey Mare’s Tail car park. Some happed up against the chill but the experienced knew that within a few minutes the effort of the climb would have us warmed up nicely so remained in short sleeves. Anyway the sun would come out shortly. Wouldn’t it?
The climb did warm us up for the path is steep, a well constructed stone-paved path but steep. As we expected, not a lot of water came over the falls today, just sufficient to give the new-comers an impression of possibilities and we continued the steep climb with only a few halts for ‘view stops’. As the path levelled out above the falls, we came into the mist. Not to worry though, for the sun would surely burn it off shortly.
The intention was to climb White Coomb, follow the ridge round the top of Loch Skene and drop off Lochcraighead but in the fog our twin navigators for the day, Davie and Jimmy, missed the pad we should have taken and we found ourselves wandering through the drumlins to the shore of the loch. Naturally, the pair denied any hint of being lost, saying that it was their intention to walk to the loch to give the clag time to burn off. It will burn off shortly, wouldn’t it?
We had coffee in the fog on the shore of Loch Skene. We only knew we were on the shores of a large body of water because we were told so for the damp grey clag obscured everything more than twenty metres away and the calm, grey water stretched away into some lost world. Then the fog lifted; not completely lifted yet, but lifted enough to let us spot the tent and the campers some fifty metres away. And this lifting gave us fresh hope for the day. We just knew it would burn off, the sun would come out and we would have a great, clear day on the hill. Then it closed in again and the campers and the wider world were lost to us once more.
A decision was made. In the absence of Robert, the decision was made by our joint leaders that we walk round the loch, find the path that leads towards the drystane dyke on Lochcraighead and see what the day did next. So we walked round the loch to find the path to Lochcraighead.
What path to Lochcraighead? They did it again didn’t they! They lost the path. We ended up tramping though the heather trying to find short grassy areas to ease the travail.The clag lifted again and with it so did our hopes. But it lifted only enough to tantalise us; only sufficiently to show us the loch and the lower slopes of the hill beyond. Then it closed in again and our hopes for a clear day died. We trudged on across the heather slope towards the dyke. And as we did so, we walked further into the fog, trying to ignore the first spots of rain.
But the rain would not be ignored. Long before we reached the drystane dyke, we stopped to waterproof.
The drystane dyke climbs the steeper flank of the hill and a pad of sorts climbs beside it; not so much a constructed path but merely the result of feet on the soft hillside. When we reached the pad another decision had to be made – should we concede to the weather and beat a retreat? Or should we brave it out and climb the hill? The rain eased and the sky appeared to lift again. We would climb the hill.
The climb was steep, hot and sweaty but at least we gained height quickly. But the slope took its toll and the group was split in two – the sensible (Allan, Jimmy and Johnny) bring up the rear at a sedate pace while the show-offs (the rest) took to their heels and shot off up the slope. As the slope eased each group caught a glimpse of the other, one appearing through the clag lower down and one higher up disappearing into it again. And disappear into the clag we did for there was no sign of it improving. Then the rain came again. But the laggards needn’t have worried for, though we couldn’t see it, we were pretty close to the top of the hill and the cairn that marks the summit. In the fog, we huddled round the cairn for lunch, rain pattering on the hoods of waterproofs and nothing to be seen beyond twenty metres.
Another decision was made after lunch. (We seem to be getting the hang of making decisions now.) We would cut the walk short and drop down to the side of the loch again. But we wouldn’t do it directly for the crags of the Lochcraig lay in that direction. No, we would walk round the ridge a bit, above the crags, and come over the Mid Craig ridge.
The sky lifted again as we set off, tantalising us once more with glimpses of the loch below before closing in again. And the rain went. And the sky above the mist seemed lighter. We dropped down off the top of Lochcraighead and found quad bike tracks that eased the way onto the Mid Craig. The sky was definitely brightening and the air had a drier feel to it. Then the clag split and slowly cleared for us. We knew it would for that was the forecast. But it was now too late to retrace the steps and finish the planned walk for we were now on the top of the Mid Craig. The view down into the loch was special even in the overcast conditions and we were glad we didn’t come down the crags of Lochcraig for we could now see them. They were impressive indeed.
Another decision was made – we will come this way again but on a clear day when the weather is settled and the sun is with us for a while. Something like this week?
We dropped down the side of the Mid Craig ridge and came back to the side of the loch where we sat down for a break just in time for the sun coming out and lighting up the ridge we were on. Is this not typical? We have lost count of the times we have just come off the foggy hill and the sun has come out. I dare say we will lose count of the times this will happen in future. Oh well.
Allan was champing at the bit to be off so we roused ourselves and followed him down the path by the Tail Burn back towards the falls. Just above the falls we met a couple with binoculars. ‘We’ve just seen a ring ouzel go into that bracken over there’. The birders seemed excited but we had to ask ‘A ringed whit?’. It was explained to us, but one wee chooky bird is pretty much the same as another to us. While the birders would have stayed for hours to ‘twitch’, the rest of us showed our interest in things ornithological by moving on down the path. The birders were forced to follow and the ‘ringed whatever’ remains unseen.
The path dropped us just us quickly down the slope as it had raised us earlier in the day and we found ourselves back in the National Trust car park slightly after three.
Despite the conditions, this was a fair walk. We will be back, hopefully on a better day.

The Railway Inn in Moffat provided the FRT for the day. The big screen above the bar was showing the third English match of this world cup. Nothing less than a win would do England and are we happy to report that they got it. You guess!

photos by Allan

14 May Loch Skein and White Coomb

The dry, sunny weather that has characterised May this year lingered on but today there was a cool easterly wind to take the edge off the late spring sun. Still, the sun was shining hazily from early morning and we anticipated a good walk. But, when we got out of the car at the Grey Mare’s Tale car park in the Moffat valley, the sun had gone and the easterly was cold. Though shorts were worn, jackets or jerseys remained on. And we moved quickly to warm the blood.
We took the well constructed path towards Loch Skein, climbing high on the east side of the burn. This path was steep and the climb caught the breath and tested legs still stiff from the car journey. But it did warm us up and get us height quickly. And it afforded some superb views of the main valley and the waterfall from the hanging valley in front of us. Woodland flowers - primroses, dog violets, woodrush and stunted bluebells - showed how the area was once wooded, part of the ancient Forest of Selkirk. Now these woodland plants flower in the open for the area is treeless, dry heather moorland. And our path climbed through this. Then the fall was below us as the path continued to climb. But the walking became easy once the sharp climb was over and we had gained the level of the hanging valley of Loch Skein.
We never made Loch skein. Near the drumlins we crossed the burn and found a path - a pad really, tramped by feet rather than properly constructed - up beside a drystane dyke. This dyke was to be our guide for the rest of the day. ‘Cloudberry!’, exclaimed Jimmy, almost excitedly, as he found a cluster of these Arctic brambles, a relic of the ice age, growing beside the path. We were to find more as the day and our walk progressed. But just at that time hunger called and we found a grassy knoll in sight of the loch on which to have elevenses.
The slope steepened considerably again as we started the climb of White Coomb proper. As is usual after coffee, Davie took off at a fair old lick. Robert threatened to do something anatomical to him if he didn’t slow his pace and Davie complied. We could see metaphorical tears come to his eyes at the very thought of what was threatened. So the pace was slowed. And the views were enjoyed for we stopped frequently. A pair of wheatear hedge-hopped the drystane dyke in front of us and when Davie explained the derivation of the name, the others became more interested to see their white rumps. Maybe we’re all becoming twitchers despite ourselves. And, as we crested the summit of White Coomb, the sun came out to add to a very pleasant part of the walk.
He sun brought with it clearer air, at least to the north for the southward prospect still held the haze and visibility was restricted in that direction. But to the north the view was extensive, from the closer hills of Talla and those around Culter, to Tinto and the Lowthers and the Galloways in the distance. Just across a deep cleugh Blackhope Scaur looked tempting and a suggestion was made for a future excursion here. But the wind still blew and it was too cool to hang around for long.
The walking on the tops was easy, on a sward of sheep cropped grasses. And we followed our drystane dyke down from the top and along the broad grassy ridge surrounding Loch Skein. We were not alone. Four or five hundred metres in front of us were three men. We caught up with them when they stopped and sat behind the dyke for a break. They were from Cumbria, come up to Moffat for the peace and quiet for the Lake District was getting too busy. We left them to their peace and quiet and walked on. They were the only folk we saw on the hill though many made the climb to the loch.
Jimmy wanted to look down on the loch so we left the dyke and paralleled it some fifty metres to the south. We certainly got to look down on the loch for the slope here was steep. And in the shelter of the rocks of a boulder field, over looking Loch Skein, we sat down for lunch, a leisurely lunch for we were sheltered from the wind, the sun was warm and it was a day for leisurely lunches.
After lunch Davie took off again. (We are convinced he has more than coffee in his flask.) The rest climbed casually through the boulder field to find the bold David waiting on the top of Lochcraighead. Robert didn’t threaten this time. He didn’t need to for we were now on the downward slope and Davie is slower on the downward. The views were now northward and eastward over Talla. And they were to stay with us for a while on the gentle descent of the hill. But the slope steepened and the view disappeared and we dropped quickly to the level of the loch.
This is where we thanked the weather god* for this fine spell for the path at this level lay through peat hags and sphaggy bogs and could have been much wetter. As it was it was mainly dry and any wet bits were easily avoided. Robert and Alan spotted great patches of cloudberry in full flower on this stretch and identified it correctly. There’s hope for them yet.
Holly was first to reach the loch. Well, in it really for the stick chasing swimming game was on. Davie and Alan threw the stick while Holly did the swimming and Bob and Jimmy did the watching. Had it not been for the cool wind, we might all have done the swimming for the afternoon sun was hot. And it got hotter as we walked through the drumlins, down the side of the burn and dropped steeply down beside the Grey Mare’s Tail to the car park in the Moffat valley.
A great day in superb country.

* It should be noted that this deity is not Paul. Paul is just an Apostle.

We took refreshment in the black Bull in Moffat. This was much to Jimmy’s delight for it is an ancient establishment with Burns and other historic connections.

PS. This was the day of the EUFA cup final in Manchester and the motorway was busy with Rangers supporters travelling to the game, vehicles decked out in team colours. From above the road must have looked like a river of red, white and blue.