Some images from the Lugar walk

 

Jimmy’s report on our wander round Cumnock

 Robert,Jimmy,Davy Mc,Davy C,Rex,Alan,and Hugh.

Two things we learnt from today’s outing: Firstly, what wealth of history we have in our county: And, secondly, how proud Jimmy is of his local area. We did this walk because the forecast for the Lowther hills was poor and we followed the alternative arrangement.

As we stood in the usual car park in Cumnock we were approached by a woman who told us we couldn’t park there as they were about to resurface it. So, we moved on, following Jimmy to a quiet car park in Woodroad Park for a wee ramble in the Cumnock area. While boots were donned and rucksacks arranged Jimmy regaled us with tales of Cumnock outdoor swimming pool. It seems that at one time this was a popular venue, not only for locals but for celebrity swimmers as well including Olympic champions Anita Lonsbrough and Johnny Weissmuller of Tarzan fame. There is no sign of there ever have been a swimming pool there now.

We walked through the park, climbed past Templand farm and out on to Rigg Road. Turning right here we moved on towards Lugar. At the entrance to what appeared to be abandoned factories we halted to let the slowies catch up. Then we walked through what Jimmy told us was the original iron works of Lugar, then the headquarters of NCB Ayrshire followed by the offices of Cumnock and doon Valley District council. Now it is a collection of small factories and works.

               At the end of this seeming dereliction was a narrow lane which we took and followed it to Brickwork Loch and an old railway. Since some tongues were hanging out for the lack of coffee, we halted in an abandoned signal box for re-caffeination. But the midges were annoying some and coffee stop was shorter than it might have been and we were soon on the move again. Tarmac was found just to the north of Cronberry an d we held to this for a while. 

We came down the busy A70 into the village of Lugar. We might have walked on but the bold Jimmy had us stopped the farm of Bello Mill where we were told the story of one William Murdoch. As we stood there the lady of the house came out. A very pleasant woman of our own vintage, she was delighted that we were interested in Murdoch and allowed us to go through the farm to view the original mill. When we came back up to the farm she asked us to sign the visitor’s book that has been kept t the farm since 1913. We were only too happy to do so. Our thanks go to the lady whose name we forgot to get. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/William_Murdoch

The next stop was at The Spoot, a natural spring where the folk of Lugar got their water before it was piped in in the 1930’s. A lot of work has been done here to make this an attractive picnic area with flower beds and seating. And all done during lock-down by a group of volunteers. Hats off to them for they have done a great job. 

We left tarmac for a while again. Crossing the bridge, we followed the river upstream, under the viaduct and down to another lovely wee picnic spot by the side of the Glenmuir Water. This is where we chose to have lunch. And, for a change, it was a relaxed lunch sitting on boulders and looking over the water to an immense vertical rock face topped by trees barely clinging to the earth above it. This was the Black Rocks.

Thoroughly refreshed, we continued to follow the river upstream, giving the bull and his harem a wide enough berth, to the ruins of Barlonachan farm where we picked up the old farm track. As we climbed up the side of the valley with the track, it was mentioned that it was a superb setting for a farm. What wasn’t quite so superb was the track we followed for it was showing the signs of tractor us and was covered in oozy mud. But, climbing a style into a field got us out of the glaur and it was only a couple of fields before we found a more solid farm road and eventually tarmac again. This we followed back into Cumnock.

From the high ground to the east of the town, Jimmy pointed out, across the valley, the site of a covenanter’s monument. And another was mentioned when we found the old cemetery on Barhill. This was to Rev. Alexander Peden who was brought here from his grave in Auchinleck six weeks after his burial to be hanged on the public gibbet in Cumnock, Thanks to the intervention of the Earl of Dumfries, this was never carried out but Peden was buried at the foot of the Gibbet as a common criminal.

We turned right at the old cemetery and came back into the valley of the Lugar, crossed the Rifleman’s brig and came back into the Woodroad Park. This had been a different walk from the planned one but it brought back memories for Davie Mc and was new territory for most.

Davie’s version of events 

Seven of us met at the carpark at Cumnock swimming pool although our stay there was short-lived owing to its imminent re-surfacing. Consequently we moved the cars to the carpark at the foot of the Woodroad Park.

The proposed walk to the Lowthers had been cancelled for reasons unknown to your scribe and Jimmy was appointed Chief Injun for the day and he already had plans as to which way we would go. This was to be a day of reminiscing for Derval Davie (the ooter formerly known as Cumnock Davie) as will be revealed.

First we walked up past the site of the old open air pool. Davie informed the company that for many years he did not partake of alcohol on a Saturday night so that he could be fresh and fit for an early morning swim on the Sunday. Nobody believed the bit about the alcohol.

We proceeded up through the park and under the Templand Viaduct onto the rough road which meets up with the Auchinleck - Lugar. Here Davie recalled his first dalliance with the opposite sex on one of the pit bings which proliferate in this area. He became positively misty-eyed about it.

At Lugar, instead of going down the Peasie Brae Jimmy took us in to what remains of Lugar Iron Works which spread over a considerable area but is now sadly home to weeds and all sorts of rubbish. Another memory was brought to Davie’s mind of when he worked at the briquette works for the summer before heading off to university. Anything you want to know about briquettes, Davie’s yer man.

Jimmy had us cut through the old works and soon we were on an old railway line heading towards Cronberry. A stop was called for at the old signal box but the conditions were ripe for midges so we didn’t taigle too long.
At this point Davie pointed out his Alma Mater ie Cronberry Primary School which he attended only for P1 in 1953/4. He had to confess he got the belt (in P1) for peeing through the playground railings after being shopped by a wee lassie. Davie C told us he got the belt on his very first day in P1 for standing on top of the desk.

As we headed up past where Cronberry Rows used to be, Davie discovered that only he and Jimmy had ever heard of William Murdoch the inventor of gas lighting who “lit up the world”. Consequently Jimmy determined to show the ignoramuses the place where Murdoch conducted his experiments. On entering Bello Mill Farm we were met by an extremely pleasant lady who allowed us to go down to the ruins of the old Bello Mill. Unfortunately because the Lugar Water was in spate we couldn’t go down to the water’s edge and along to the cave where Murdoch experimented with lighting coal gas. Maybe another day. Davie told us incidentally that Muirkirk was the first town to have gas lighting but the last to be connected to the Natural Gas Grid. On our return to Bello Mill Farm the lady (Mrs Craig) met us again with a visitors’ book. It was a massive tome and the first signature was dated 1913!

Down the road we had a look at Lugar Boswell Thistle’s ground which was looking very spruce indeed. Jimmy informed the company that they were the first team to adopt the 2-3-5 formation which was universally adopted and lasted till the sixties.

Further down the road Jimmy showed us a lovely wee garden at the Spout, re- created by the locals before we crossed the bridge at Hollowsholm and turned left up to the viaduct  before dropping down to the river to have a spot of well-earned lunch. This is a most picturesque spot as the accompanying photos show.

Carrying on we eventually ended up coming down into Logan and before long heading down Bank Glen and back into the  Woodroad Park. The walk had taken just over 4 hours and although it had smirred occasionally and some of the going had been wet and glaury, on the whole this was an enjoyable walk and thanks are due to the Chief Injun, Jimmy.

More about Lugar on the Cumnock History Group site
http://www.cumnockhistorygroup.org/gallery-presentations.html  Life in Lugar at the bottom. You can click past the boring bits to the old photos! (Kay)

18 August A Brief History of Cumnock

Malcolm, the new lad, made a mistake. When Jimmy offered to show us some of the historical sites in the Cumnock area, Malcolm quipped, ‘What History? In Cumnock? Cumnock hisnae got a history!’ This was enough to spark Jimmy off and treat us all to the history of every bump, stone and blade of grass in the area. And what Jimmy missed out, Davie, also a native Cumnockian, filled in.

It was the day of Paul’s bus pass do and a short, local walk was called for. So when Jimmy suggested the Cumnock area, this was accepted and we all met at his place for a nine thirty (ish) start. OK, before the Talbot boys get their undergarments in turmoil, some of the walk was in Auchinleck Parish but it was still the Cumnock area.

The transport was left in the car park at the swimming pool (the new one apparently) and we set off along Auchinleck Road towards the town centre. Barely two hundred metres later we were stopped outside a tall, grey sandstone building for the first lesson. This was Lochnorris and was the home of James Keir Hardie, the founder of the Labour party. (See www.spartacus.schoolnet.co.uk/PRhardie.htm) It is still a private home but a small plaque on the wall commemorates Keir Hardie’s connection with it and the town.

Lesson one past, we continued along the street, still heading into town. At the Lugar Bridge we left the main street and took the road for Woodroad Park. ‘All Our Yesterdays’ kicked in with the Cumnock boys for this was the scene of their youthful frolics. The outdoor swimming pool was here (built 1936 and one of the first and finest outdoor pools in the country - see John Strawhorn, A New History of Cumnock, 1966), the putting green was here, the carnival was held here – Ah, nostalgia! As Davie wiped a nostalgic tear from his eye, we walked on through the park. Her Majesty, the Queen visited here in 1956 and made a speech from the bandstand. ‘Us weans thocht she was juist a wee wummin’, said Jimmy, ‘We were expectin’ flowin’ robes an’ a crown at least’. And with this observation ended lesson number two.

One thing Jimmy forgot to mention in his speech was that the Cumnock Cycling rally was also held here during the forties and fifties. It was their hill climb section that we tackled next as the road climbed steeply through the wood to Templands Farm.

Holly was amused by the chickens and ducks in the farmyard and some of the rest of us were more amused by the pigs and goats. We feel sorry for those who don’t get out often.
The last time we came this way as a group, it was chucking down with rain. Today made a pleasant change for the early morning rain had gone and the sun was trying to make an appearance. We took to the Broombraes footpath and continued the climb. Somewhere up the slope we halted to remove fleeces as the heat of the day and the slope took its toll. But the climb didn’t last long and we were soon dropping down through the trees to meet the river again. Jimmy had us halted for another lesson. ‘This is where they quarried the stone for Dumfries House back on the mid seventeen hundreds’ (Lesson three). Peter, our lithophile, wasn’t content with seeing the quarry from the top, he was for down into it to examine the rocks. Ian went with him. The rest stayed where they were and awaited the interesting report.

No report was forthcoming so we wandered on. The path came down to the river and brought us out to the main A70 at the west end of Lugar village. We turned through the village. The neat rows of single storey, brick-built, cottages - iron-worker’s cottages originally - and their gardens were admired as we wandered along to the other end of the village.

Lesson number four came at Rosebank Park, the home of Lugar Boswell Thistle FC. The gate was open and we wandered in. Paul, our expert on all things junior football, was asked about Lugar Boswell’s claim to fame. ‘They used to play in the senior leagues’, said he, confident in his answer, ‘playing the likes of Rangers and Hearts’. But this was not the answer the inquisitors were after. Apparently Lugar developed the tactical system of playing two full backs, three midfielders and five attackers using two flying wingers, a system that was used universally for fifty-odd years before the Italians came up with four – two – four and effectively killed the game. Well, were we gobsmacked or what? We Walked on.

Fifty metres along the road we were stopped again, this time it was to have a look at Bello Mill Farm. Bello Mill was the birthplace on 21 August 1754 of one William Murdoch, inventor and engineer. (See en.wikipedia.org.wiki). Murdoch (later Murdock) whose most famous work, gas lighting, was developed here at Bello Mill, in a riverside cave under the present farm. (Lesson five) This cave just had to be explored. But the burn was high and access today would be difficult and would probably result in wet feet, so the visit was postponed. We did however see the original Mill where Murdoch was born.

Fifty metres beyond the farm, at the entrance to the gorge of Bello Pass, are the remains of a Neolithic stone circle, evidence of a very early history for the place. Had Jimmy not pointed them out as such (lesson six), we would have walked past and noted only a pile of stones.

Then we were into the gorge. Bello Pass was the scene, in 1688 of a skirmish between covenanters and government troops when a party of covenanters ambushed the troops taking the covenanting minister David Houston from Ayr to trial, and probable execution, in Edinburgh. Houston escaped but local man John McGeachan was mortally wounded. He is buried on his farm of Meikle Auchengibbert above Cumnock. (See www.cumnock.net/) We would maybe see his monument later. Until then, we walked on.

Up through Bello Pass we went then, on the busy Muirkirk road. At the top of the pass we took a minor road on the right. Lack of coffee was beginning to tell on the caffeine junkies for it was now after eleven and at least an hour since coffee in Jimmy’s so, somewhere along this wee road, on the parapet of a bridge over a wee burn, we stopped for coffee.

The road rose sharply after coffee; rose beside a wee wood into which Peter constantly looked in search of mushrooms, another of his passions. But, mushrooms there were none so we continued up the hill without hindrance to top out in a flattish, mossy area. A few spots of rain hit us, only a few spots but the sky behind was ominously black and the few spots were sufficient to make the wary don the waterproofs. This however was enough to make the rain go off in another direction and that was the last we were to get for the day. It wasn’t the last we would see, though.

The moss we encountered at the top of the hill was dominated on the right by the spoil-heap of another opencast coal works. This elicited some interest for it just wasn’t here the last time either Davie or Jimmy came up this road. Peter, he of the interest in things rocky, was interested in this, as was Ian, our physicist so a short stop was made here to examine the workings, or what we could see of the workings. ‘Part of Cumnock’s new history’, said Jimmy. Lesson seven?

We followed the road yet. Along past where Glenmuir School used to stand (now swallowed by the opencast), down to a bridge on Glenmuir water, took a right turn on Glenmuir Road and climbed again by Darmalloch Farm. At the top of this hill we left tarmac for a while and took the service road for Avisyard (pronounced Aisyard) Farm and the phone mast we could see on the summit of Avisyard Hill.

The farmer stopped his car and rolled down the window. ‘Are you heading for the mast?’ he asked. When we replied in the affirmative he told us there were kye with young calves in the field and warned us that they could be dangerous. ‘Especially wi’ the dug’, said he. It looks as though he didn’t want us to be there. We told him we would take our chances and were ready to spout the freedom of access laws to him. But without further comment, he rolled up his window and drove on. We walked on.

Just after we parted company with the farmer Holly disgraced herself. Jumping the fence, she entered a field with young beasts. When nosy young cow approached her, she started barking and chasing. No matter how much Davie called her, she refused to give up the fun. Well, that is until all the other cattle joined in the chase. This time it was Holly who was the chased. Discretion being the better part of valour, even in the canine world, and especially with twenty cows running after her, Holly beat a hasty retreat and joined us back on the farm road. She knew then that she was in disgrace for she was leashed.

The field, up through which the track to the mast ran, did contain kye, young beasts and nosy. But they presented no threat to us and we walked up to the mast with a mini herd of young cattle going before. And we reached the mast and trig point on top of Avisyard Hill dead on Jimmy’s schedule of 12:30.

We didn’t stop at the mast, the breeze was cool and there was no shelter. We walked westward down the hill to find the remains of a drystane dyke along which we sat and had lunch.
It had been commented often that you don’t have to go particularly high in Ayrshire for a view. Here was another. From Corsencon in the south, through the Afton Hills, Blackcraig and Windy Standard, Cairnsmore of Carsphairn, Ben Beoch above Dalmellington, Brown Carrick at Ayr to Blacksidend in the North, the whole of central Ayrshire was laid out. Cumnock lay below us and the towns of East Ayrshire could be picked out as the low ground of the county stretched down to the sea. Yet, the day was such that Arran, normally a prominent feature of Ayrshire views, remained hidden.

We took our time over lunch, enjoying the view and resting in the sun. And as we sat, we watched another heavy cloud drifted in from the west dragging a dark streak of rain below it, obscuring the landscape as it came. But we were in sunshine and we watched as the rain fell on Auchinleck and parts of Cumnock before heading up the Lugar water towards Muirkirk. But we were in sunshine and so it would stay.

It was all downhill after lunch – literally. We walked down to the corner of a wood where we found another track. ‘Do we follow this track?’ asked Robert. ‘Aye, it’s bound to take us somewhere’, replied our leader. It took us down to the farm of Borland Mains. Over to our right was the farm of Auchengibbert and in a field surrounded by trees could just be seen John McGeachan’s grave.

The farm road took us down to tarmac again. Turning right then left, we crossed the railway bridge and came to Craigens. ‘All Our Yesterdays’ kicked in again. This was the boyhood haunt of Davie and Jimmy and they revelled in nostalgia. ‘Do you remember the duck pond?’ This asked as we passed Craigens Farm. ‘Oh, aye. An’ the horse? Whit wis its name?’ ‘Auld Davie’ ‘Auld Jimmy Craig wis the fermer, crabbit auld bugger’. Ah, the good old days.

In this bout of reminiscence, they had had us down into Netherthird where they were brought up. Twisting and turning through the streets, they had us past where Davie stayed; then where Jimmy stayed. It seemed to keep them amused. What amused Robert though, were the Unionist flags hanging out of windows. For this was the middle of the marching season. He immediately broke into a swagger and started whistling The Sash much to the amusement of some, not least himself. But the sensible amongst us just admired the carved wooden birds in a garden. And the two natives wallowed in nostalgia as we wandered down through Netherthird.

At the bottom of Netherthird sits The Thistle Inn. Adopting our new philosophy of doing something different, this is where we took today’s FRT.
But we weren’t yet finished with the walk, or the history lessons. We left The Thistle and came down Glaisnock Road past the cemetery. ‘That’s where James Keir Hardie is buried’, nodded Jimmy. (Lesson eight)

We stopped outside the town hall to admire Benno Schotz’s bronze bust of Keir Hardie. And outside the Dumfries Arms Hotel for lesson nine. ‘Finished around 1771, it was where Burns stayed once on a journey from Dumfries to Mauchline. But it’s not the oldest building in the town’. The oldest apparently was the one facing us as we crossed Ayr Road, The Craighead Inn. ‘Don’t know the exact date but it’s pre-seventeen hundred’.

Then we entered The Square. ‘You’re walking on top of the old medieval cemetery. The present church dates from 1866 but there’s been a church on this site since the middle ages’. (Lesson ten).

From the Square we made our way back along Auchinleck Road to the cars, not quite exhausted from the walk but totally ‘history’d oot’. Bet Malcolm won’t make that mistake again!














Distance: 16.6 kms by Paul