Hurlford Galston 28 February

The Walk

Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Malcolm, Paul, Peter, Robert

Nice day for a walk!

There was an encouragingly good turnout given the ‘Baltic’ weather conditions and, as we assembled at the bowling green, many layers were donned. Overhead was bright and sunny with fresh snow providing good grip underfoot as we set off along the Grougar Path towards Loudoun Kirk. We were able to leave the road and follow the river on this occasion, an option that is usually determined by how muddy it might be, and good progress was made despite being against the snell wind. The Kirk was reached after an hour and a half, just in time to see a hare being chased across the kirkyard by a big dug whose owner was not too bothered. Holly, also, was not too bothered, thinking possibly about what scraps she might get from our coffee break.

Rather than taking the road option up to Loudoun Academy, we turned right on leaving the ruin and took the path towards the outskirts of Galston, before crossing the main road and heading up past Grant’s factory to the cycle track (Chris Hoy Way). This track took us back to Hurlford with the wind on our back, although we did stop, briefly, at the viaduct for lunch.
We were back at the cars after three hours and thirty-five minutes having covered just over nine miles, almost the same as last week. We had been lucky with the weather having encountered dry, bright overhead conditions and, with large parts of the walk being sheltered, the breeze/wind was not an issue. Neither was the snow an issue, ranging from little to six inches. A good walk, considering!
We did not partake of FRT as we were looking forward to our curry night in honour of Derval Davie’s 70^th.

The Curry (or Not the Curry!!)
The above, less Paul but with Dougie, Ronnie, and Alan McQ

When we arrived at the Jewel in the Crown in the evening we were greeted with a sign, saying ‘Closed due to severe weather’. Disappointment all round but understandable, probably. Having adjourned to Wetherspoon’s we had a meal there, after a good few attempts to place the order. “Sorry, only four big steaks left. Sorry, no mixed grills left.” Nonetheless we enjoyed what we had, and what we had was washed down with an ale or two!

Well done to everyone for getting there in such bitter conditions and making the night a success!

“What are we going to do next week?” “How about a wee* walk and a curry to make up for tonight’s disappointment?” “Now there’s a good idea!”
*This word is used loosely


Setting off

"Take a picture of this", they said

Striding on

Coffee stop

Johnny shows his tiredness at lunch

Down by the riverside

Davie prays for a helping hand

Crookedholm to Darvel 9 March

Alan, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Kenny R, Kenny T, Malcolm, Paul, Peter, Robert

We met at the bowling club in Crookedholm on a bright, chilly spring morning and were glad to welcome Jimmy back into the fold. Our route was to be the familiar one following the Grougar path and as, far as possible, staying on good ground or tarmac. However, Davie Mc and Peter took Holly down to the riverside path ignoring the suggestion that it would be mucky. They emerged relatively unscathed to meet us further up the road and remained with us to Loudoun Kirk where coffee was taken.

On leaving the kirkyard there was a schism with half the company following the high road up to Loudoun Academy whilst the rest turned right and took the shorter, but potentially muddier route (in fact it wasn’t an issue), to Galston. There was a coming together at the sports ground where the riverside path was taken to Newmilns. This path was in the process of a major upgrade and what a difference had been made to the first stretch of it. The story was that it would form part of the Chris Hoy Way.  We trust that some money will be put aside to maintain it!
On reaching Newmilns consideration was given to Jimmy’s wabbitness by agreeing to let Johnny, Peter and him return to the cars from there. However, him that knows these things said that it was only twenty minutes or so to Darvel, so we stayed together and set off on the last leg. O.K. it was twenty-five minutes to the outskirts of Darvel and a bit longer to the bus stop, but there was warm sunshine on this stage, so no harm was done. The weather had been dry and, at times, warm but, when the sun had gone in or we were in the shade, there was a distinct chill in the air.
Having taken the bus back to the cars, we went on to Wetherspoon’s in Kilmarnock for lunch and FRT.
Another grand day out!

Some images from the Irvine Valley walk

Johnny explains to us all about his high earth and big holes. Wern't we impressed!

Snowdrops at Loudoun Kirk.

Coffee time at Loudoun Kirk.

Hurlford to Galston and back 6 January

Alan McQ, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Kenny R, Malcolm, Paul, Peter, Rex, Robert

We welcomed Alan McQuiston to the group today, just to show him what he has got to look forward to. Unfortunately, he would have matters educational to attend to on a Wednesday for the foreseeable future.

The weather was dull and overcast but, given the rains of the last few days and weeks, we were glad it was dry for our walk up to Galston and back. Following the Grougar path from our meeting point at the bowling club, we followed the river up to Milton Road where we turned and headed for Loudoun Kirk. It had been decided that we would stick to tarmac as far as possible today so we ignored the cross-country shortcut and stayed on the road until the Kirk, where coffee was called for. Robert provided Christmas cake and a dram for us whilst Jimmy supplied shortbread. Well done, and thanks, guys!

No Peter, you can't leave the room!

and now with our resident scribe

Davie Mc left before the rest of us as he was dropping off Holly with Kay in Galston but we weren’t far behind, again staying on the road as far as the main road and the entrance to Loudoun Castle. Turning right here we headed into downtown Galston and continued up to Grant’s haggis factory before turning on to the Chris Hoy Way and heading towards Hurlford. Further down the path we teamed up with Davie who was waiting patiently? for us. We stayed on the path right into Hurlford, again ignoring our usual shortcut across open ground.

We were back at the cars three hours after having set off and, other than some slight moisture in the air when we left Loudoun Kirk, we had got it dry, In fact, on the Chris Hoy Way jackets were removed, so mild it was.

FRT and lunch was taken at Wetherspoon’s in Kilmarnock where we managed to confuse the bar staff with our lunch order. Well done to them, however, for recognising that we had overpaid and giving us a refund. Another very convivial time was spent here!

Anyone for chicken strips?

Irvine Valley Walk

Starting off near Crookedholm

A rest by the riverside (Actually waiting for the slowcoaches to catchup.)

Robert leads the way along the riverside.

Loudoun Kirk

Let us Pray. Grace before lunch?

In the Burn Anne Wood

Climbing up the valley side near Threepwood

Leaving our lunch stop on the lip of the Irvine Valley

The Darvel 'mast' on the Ga'ston Muir

Alan, Allan, Davie C, Davie Mc, Gus, Jimmy, Johnny, Malcolm, Rex, Robert

Most of us met at the Bowling Club in Hurlford where we awaited the country cousins. They, however, parked on the road and anxiously awaited the arrival of the rest of us. You couldn’t write the script, well you could but no-one would believe it!

Nonetheless, sanity prevailed, we found each other, and we were on our way on the Grougar Walk following the River Irvine. Most of this was thankfully on tarmac as the off road part suffered from the previous night’s rain i.e. it was muddy. The weather today was to be bright and reasonably warm in the shelter but, when exposed to the snell wind, it was decidedly Baltic.

We passed by Ladyton Loch and coffee was taken at our usual stop at Loudoun Kirk before crossing the A71 into Galston. Now, some of the company, names are not needed, but can be guessed, hoped and assumed that we would take the low, shorter route along the river up to Darvel, but our leader for the day, when will we ever learn?, decided that we would take the high road and head up towards the Burn Anne (or Burnawn) Walk. Through Burnhouse Wood we went and across to Cessnock Wood before emerging at our normal lunch spot. The benches here had deteriorated and were not fit for purpose so someone was heard to say there was a wee spot round the next corner. Now, have we not heard this before?

We continued on the Burn Anne Walk up to its highest point near Threepwood where lunch was taken. Allan eventually arrived extolling the virtues of this more scenic, hilly route!

It was too exposed to wait long here so we made our way to the road and turned left up past Cairnhill before turning off left again and making our way through the plantation and up to the Gallow Hill road. Here we turned right and headed up towards Eastfield where we turned left and headed down towards Lanfine Estate, taking a few minutes to observe the wild boars. The Black Bull in Darvel was a very welcome sight indeed.

This had been a long walk, five and a quarter hours, and the bodies were weary when we eventually arrived back at Hurlford (by bus of course).

For more information on the route google ‘Irvine Valley Walks’ and choose ‘Ayrshire Paths – Walking from Hurlford to Darvel’. There is also a description of the Burn Anne Walk available.

11 August Anither Irvine Valley Walk

The best laid schemes o’ mice and men
Gang aft agley
An’ lea’e us naught but............

.....................................................Anither Irvine Valley Walk

We looked forward to a walk in the Campsies, a walk that would be new to most of us. All week long we looked forward to it. Paul looked forward to it, even to the extent that he did a ‘reccy’ at the week-end and posted i t on the blog just to keep us looking forward to it. Oh, how we looked forward to that walk in the Campsies.

Came the day, came the weather. A depression in the North Sea was dragging rain southward across the country. Paul, very unlike himself, was reluctant to go to the Campsies suggesting that the rain would reach there around eleven, just about the time as we would. Should we really go that far for another soaking? Or would it be more sensible to stay local and get another soaking? Yielding to Paul’s reticence, we opted for the latter. We would walk from Robert’s house along the Irvine valley trails.
We were joined today by Malcolm Campbell a recent escapee from the chalk face who, in the exhilaration of his new-found freedom, had a sudden rush of blood to the head and decided to join us. Time will tell if this was a wise decision.

As for the walk we did undertake, it followed a route we’ve done before (20 August 2008) taking us by Kay Park along McKenzie Drive and McPhail Drive over the bypass by a footbridge and on to the Milton Road. Not a lot happened that was worth reporting over the next hour or so. We walked to Templetonburn where some of us might have missed the route such was the conversations and our interest in the surroundings. But Davie called us back and had us down the fisher’s path by the river. And we kept to the riverside for a bit eventually finding tarmac again at Greenwood Bridge Then we came by Grougar Row and Burnbank to the ancient kirkyard of Loudoun Kirk where coffee was taken.

While most of us sat and conversed socially (blethers again – Ed.) Jimmy took himself off in search of a particular grave, that of Janet Little poetess of this parish, leaving behind his rucksack and camera. Now, haven’t just we learnt a new jape from young Davie Clunie? (see Allan’s poem of 28 July last) When it was time for us to go, we shouted to Jimmy, handed him his rucksack and walked on.

We came down a track to Ga’ston. It was suggested that we might walk on to Darvel as we did the last time we came this way and take the bus back to Killie. This nearly caused apoplexy in Jimmy who had left his wallet and bus pass in his car. So, to keep theold soul happy we decided to return by the old railway, now a cycle path, to Hurlford. So it was up through Ga’ston then.

The old railway is now The Sir Chris Hoy Cycle Way. ‘Why Chris Hoy, Why not Graeme Obree’, asked one. We had to agree that the local man should have been commemorated rather than the Edinburgh fellow. However, it was along the Chris Hoy Way that we went.
Cycle path or no, this is still the old railway, straight, level and uninteresting in itself. The highlights included a yellow plant that our botanist could identify * and our meeting with Boydy.

The yellow flowers grew profusely in clumps around forty centimetres high on both sides of the tarmac but what they were stumped Jimmy. ‘You could always photograph the flower and look it up when you get home’ suggested Davie with something of a twinkle in his eye. But Jimmy was for none of this. ‘My camera’s in my bag and I cannae be bothered getting it oot. Anyway I’ve got a fair idea in my mind’. So we walked on.
Boydy was a collie and was accompanied by a wee lassie of around eleven on a bike. ‘Boydy?’ we queried. ‘Aye, ma faither’s a Rangers supporter’ came the reply. ‘But Boydy disnae play for Rangers ony mare’ we smirked. ‘S’no ma problem’ said she, threw her head high and cycled haughtily up the track with Boydy trotting alongside.

By this time Ian was reminding us that it was lunch time. So, when we reached the viaduct over the Cessnock, we sat down and took the peece.

The amusement during lunch was the men painting the electricity pylons. ‘That would make a good photo’ said Robert in Jimmy’s direction. At this comment Allan took the opportunity to wander round the group photographing everything in sight. For some reason he seemed particularly interested in taking Jimmy’s picture. Not until he asked Jimmy if he liked his new camera, did the latter realise that it was his. The bold Alan had picked it up at Loudoun Kirk when Jimmy went walkabout and Jimmy hadn’t missed it until now. I refuse to repeat what he called us all when we burst out laughing, such things are not for sensitive ears. But he has sworn revenge. We quake in our boots. See what you’ve started, Davie Clunie.

From the Cessnock viaduct we followed a path behind the houses of Hurlford. This took us to the main Valley road and turning along this we came to Hurlford cross where we crossed the river. Then taking a footpath beside the river, we came back to the Milton Road and retraced our steps back into Killie.

The ultra-observant among you will have noticed that there is no mention of rain in the above narrative. That’s because there was none. The sky was overcast but there was no rain. But Paul assures us that it would probably be chucking it down on the Campsies.

*The mystery plant would appear to be a thing called common toadflax – not so common in this area.

20 August Killie to Darvel - The Long Way Round

Davie, Jimmy, Johnny, Peter & Robert

‘With you, dear Jenny, I would pass some hours,

Amongst its shady walks and fragrant bow'rs.’*

This was the day we welcomed Johnny back for his first outing since breaking his femur in April. And the walking wounded of last week were not fully recovered either. So this was to be a short and easy walk. It suited Peter for he had appointment to keep and was cutting the walk short anyway and it suited the rest as well for we were in the mood for a short walk .

It was raining when we met at Bob’s place in Kilmarnock. Not that it mattered at that time for Bob had prepared a slide show of his Canadian adventure and Peter had pictures from Australia. And Bob made coffee so we didn’t care whether it rained at that time so long as it dried up for us going out. By the time we had been to British Columbia and Alaska, Perth and the west of Australia it was the back of eleven and the rain had dwindled to a steady spit. Still, we waterproofed just in case and set off for a short walk.

Bob led us through the houses on a road that only he among the group had travelled. He was to lead us for the first part of the walk, into the Irvine valley, and Davie was to take over from there. So, through the houses he led us, over the busy A77 by a bridge and into a wee country lane. Too early yet for the brambles which hung in orangey-green clusters in the hedgerows but we now know where to get them. And too early for the scribes growing on stunted trees beside the old Crookedholm school. Our indignation was raised again to see how this substantial Victorian building was being allowed to decay. It had obviously been used as some sort of council department until recent years but was now abandoned and showing signs of wear. We wondered how long it would be before it was demolished and the land sold off to housing developers. Sad.
Peter left us when we reached a path for Crookedholm. A couple of locals blethered at the end of the path and we stopped to blether with them and to remove the waterproofs for the rain had now gone. They pointed Peter in the right direction. He took the path through the wood and we carried on along the road. We were for the Old Loudoun Kirk so stuck to tarmac.

Past Templetonburn we went. Jimmy suggested an association with the name and the Knights Templar. Paul agreed. Then it was past Grougar Row, still on tarmac. And we would have stayed on tarmac but Davie wanted to show us Burnbank Loch so we diverted along a footpath. He promised Jimmy that he would point out a comfortable chair along this path. Johnny thought this was a good thing for Jimmy might not recognise a chair, comfortable or otherwise. Its good to have him back with us. We stopped beside the comfortable chair which overlooked the loch for Davie also said that, in winter, this was a great place for watching wildfowl. Today there were only two swans on the far side of the water. Not much to hang about for so we walked on.

We came back to tarmac and to the ancient Kirkyard of Loudoun Kirk (founded 1415 said our dates expert). Jimmy related the story of Janet Little (1759-1813), ‘The Scottish Milkmaid’, who is buried here and Davie told of Lady Flora Hastings (1806-139) who also lies here. But Robert and Johnny heard none of it, they were off in search of a comfortable seat on which to have lunch. So we all took lunch here, sandwiches eaten between throwing sticks for Holly. This might have been to stop her looking for bones.

Davie led the way after the peece. Waymarkers pointed us down a track towards Galston and this is the way we went. The way marker pointing to the left after a few hundred yards was noticed but it was assumed that Davie knew a better way since he strode on past it. We followed him. We have done this before and with the same sort of result. We came to a barbed-wire fence separating us from the main road. There was no sign of a path. We looked but there was no path. Surely Davie wasn’t lost? Not a bit of it, he just wanted to show us the new Irvine Valley flood defences. And they were well worth the seeing, weren’t they? But there was no path. We climbed the aforementioned barbed wire fence carefully, clambered up the bank, walked along the verge of the busy road and came into Galston.

A quick conference was held to decide our way back to Darvel with Davie offering the options and the walking wounded being given the casting vote. We opted for the high road.

Galston was left by the Sorn Road. A few spots of rain were felt and, by the time we reached the entrance to Burnhouse Brae Wood and the start of the Burn Anne walk, it was getting heavier. We walked up through the wood, the steep slopes catching out the infirm who hobbled their way to the tops. And the rain came seriously. Even in the shelter of the trees it was serious. Waterproofs were donned.

The trees of the ‘Burnawn’ were left, tarmac was regained and we started the climb of the valley side in the rain. Up by Middle Third and Moorend we went, and up towards ‘the mast’. The day wasn’t particularly cold and the climb was steep and heat built up inside waterproofs. It was a sweaty climb. Johnny (he of the broken femur who was having his first outing for a while) upped the pace on this climb. He was to suffer for it later but he upped the pace now. And this was to stay brisk as we climbed by the Galla Hill path-end and on towards the transmitter. Johnny started to flag. A halt was called to divest of the outer garments. ‘Meh beck is sooming’, said Jimmy and the rest said likewise for it had been a long, fast and hot climb and sweat had failed to evaporate in the damp air. A breather was also called, for Johnny‘s benefit.

At the smallholding of Keiland we left tarmac and turned downward into the valley. Then came a Davie diversion. Instead of sticking to the track like sensible folk would do, he turned right on a path. Certainly it was signposted as a part of the Valley network but it was narrow and wet. And, as we came into the trees it turned mucky as well. And slippery. We all slid at sometime along this part. Johnny slid. He cursed for now the fast pace was telling on recovering joints and a jar was the last thing he needed. Jimmy slid. He cursed more silently than Johnny. He had jerked his back and was reduced to a painful, slow progress. The rest waited to give him a rest but he preferred his slow progress and gradually, as the downward slope eased, he recovered. We reached tarmac again and the wounded were recovered sufficiently to make a slightly faster pace but still lagged behind, each sympathising with the other. We waited for them in Darvel and we all returned to Davie’s together. We changed out of sweat-wet clothing and felt more human again.

We retired to take refreshment in the Black Bull where the suffering sat and were waited upon. Such is our concern for our fellow Ooters. We hope the b*****rs are recovered for next week as we cannae keep this show of concern going for too long.

*Janet Little. From 'Epestle to Nell, Wrote from Loudoun Castle'