Windy Standard 16 Sep 2015

Present: Davie C, Gus, Peter, Davie McM and Rex

Five of us assembled at the waterworks at the head of Glen Afton on a glorious sunny autumn September morning.  Having waited in vain for some considerable time for the Irvine contingent (where were you, guys?) and being pestered by the midges we eventually set off to make our ascent of Windy Standard (698m). We walked in our usual direction to the Afton dam, the water of which was gleaming in the morning sun and proceeded on our path which eventually led us to our first coffee stop at the wee bridge at the Water of Deuch. Peter had to return at this point as he had an appointment. Having suppled us all with chocolate eclairs he set off with a spring in his step, buoyed up by the knowledge we would soon be having another curry night in October to celebrate Davie C's 60th birthday.

The climb up through the firebreak in the trees onto Jedburgh Knees proved to be a rather wetting experience due to the length of the grass and the overnight rain but before long we emerged onto the wind turbine road above the trees which would take us straight onto Windy Standard.

 Lunch was taken leaning up against one of the "windmills"  and we enjoyed the expansive views on a wonderful day when the visibility was excellent: the Lake District hills to the south, the Rhinns of Kells, Arran and Ailsa Craig to the west and the Lowthers, Tinto, Queensberry, Culter Fell hills to the east. Compared with last week's walk at Dalry this was proving a worthwhile day to be up high enjoying the sunshine and the views.

After lunch, we set off down the fence towards the Afton Water and the south-east corner of Glen Afton reservoir. Davie McM suggested taking the east path back to the reservoir steps; unfortunately he hadn't  done this walk for some time and discovered that very little maintenance has been done to this path (so what's new?);  the fir trees on either side  of the path were closing in on each other and deep pools of water  ensured that progress without getting wet feet  was somewhat difficult. Other than that, the walk under Cannock Hill and Craigbranneoch Rig was still extremely pleasant. We arrived back at the cars rough;y 4 and half hours after setting out, not a bad time for a bunch of old codgers!

FRT was taken at the Black Bull in Mauchline.

21 May Windy Standard

 Davie C, Malcolm, Gus, Jimmy, Paul, Robert

The rains of last night went in the wee sma’ ‘oors and left us with a bright morning, a light south-westerly and crystal clear air. Given these conditions, the hill country to the south of New Cumnock was keenly anticipated by the six enthusiastic Ooters who gathered at the swimming pool car park in Cumnock for the short trip to the water works car park in Glen Afton. 

Walking up the road towards the dam

Ten o’clock saw us leaving the waterworks and taking the service road for the face of the dam. Here in the glen we were sheltered from the wind and the walk to the dam face was comfortable in the warming May sunshine. The dam saw us leave tarmac but not leave roads just yet. We took a track up the left-hand side of the dam to come into the sunshine overlooking the reservoir. The water was lightly rippled by the breeze and glimmered silvery in the morning sun – a perfect picture and one that seemed to captivate Gus who stood for a while absorbing the scene in front of him. But we couldn’t there wait too long for the hill was calling.

On the road above the reservoir

The climb of the road to the top of the pass might have been warm at this time of year but the breeze kept us comfortably cool and the walk up to the top was very pleasant indeed. It might have been idyllic had it not been for the rubbish tipped by some uncaring person in a wee quarry beside the forest track. Red tape and notices informed us that asbestos had been dumped here. What a sad comment of a small section of our society! However, such sights couldn’t dent our pleasure of the morning and our wider surroundings and we walked on in light spirits.

             
At the top of the pass we found a locked gate, a gate that was intended to keep motorised traffic out of the forest we were about to enter. It didn’t keep pedestrians like us out though, and we were soon dropping down the other side of the pass towards the infant Deugh Water. With the time moving on and breakfast some hours in the past, it was time for coffee and on the wee wooden bridge over the Deugh we sat down for a caffeine fix.

Coffee on the Deugh bridge

Jimmy had warned the two Windy Standard virgins to expect two wet sections on the walk. The first of these came just after coffee when we left the forest road and took to the steep fire-break that would raise us up to the height of Jedburgh Knees. The climb was steep and wet but not nearly as wet as Jimmy predicted. Neither was it particularly long and within a few minutes we were joining another road on the crest of the ridge, a road that was designed to service the wind turbines planted along the broad, grassy ridge but a road that would ease our way along this ridge and on to the summit of the Standard itself.

Climbing the forest break on to Jedburgh Knees

 
The road was smooth, the walking was easy and the views were extensive. We were able to absorb the view as we walked up with the road. Immediately in the west Cairnsmore of Carsphairn rose and to the right of this the high hills of Galloway formed the horizon with Merrick looking particularly close: To the east, between the hills of Glen Afton, Tinto could be easily picked out and the Culter hills: To the south-east were the Lowthers and the hills above Durisdeer: behind us stretched the Ayrshire plain – Auchinleck the nearest town visible: And in front of us rose the rounded summit of Windy Standard. 

The service road certainly eased our way and within half an hour of gaining the ridge of Jedburgh Knees we were standing at the trig point that indicates the summit of Windy Standard. Now the views to the south opened for us and Skiddaw and the Cumbrian Fells formed the southerly horizon. What a superb view can be had from this summit – from the hills above the infant Tweed to the Cumbrian Fell and the high Galloways the view today was superb. Yet to the north and west the view was restricted. Though we could look out over Ayrshire, there was no sign of the hills of the southern Highlands and though Ailsa Craig popped its head up there was no sign of Arran. Still we could make do with the vista we had, a vista that began to disappear as we dropped away from the summit to find a sheltered spot for lunch.  

 Coming along the road on Jedburgh Knees

 After lunch the route lay downward, towards the source of the Afton. A new mast (sorry, Paul, a new antenna) has been erected near the Source and conjecture to its purpose kept us amused as we dropped down towards the burn. Jimmy had warned us about the wet and this part of the walk was WET. No matter where we put our feet muddy water squelched from under the soles and often we trudged through sphaggy bog sometime even over boot level. Still as Davie C said ‘On a day like this, who cares if your feet get wet’. It was not until we gained the hard surface of the newly driven road that we got out of the squelch. And by that time we were back on the floor of the glen. We followed the forest road along the west side of the reservoir to come back to the dam.

On the summit of Windy Standard

           Somehow - don’t ask us – Paul and Davie C got detached from the rest of us as we walked along the road and when we continued on the road past the dam, they didn’t notice. We walked along to Castle William to be told the legend regarding its name and await the return of the prodigals. Though we waited there for a while the missing two failed to appear. We had dropped down to the dam road and were returning to the cars when the wayward due came sauntering down the road. Where had they been? Well, when we carried on to Castle William they thought (Bad move, this thinking – Ed.), they thought that we had come down to the dam and tried without success to find the road down. They ended up crawling through the forest down to tarmac. Yes, we know that there is a great big pile of stones and a broad forest junction marking the way but remember, it’s Ooters we are discussing here and not the Ooters with the best sense of direction.

Coming back down to the reservoir

    Not content with a superb walk in the sun, superb FRT was taken in The Sun in Cumnock.

Some Windy standard Photos

Looking south-west from Jedburgh Knees

Examining the wind turbines

Wind turbines on Jedburgh Knees

At the summit trig point on Windy Standard looking towards the Glen Afton hills

Approaching the last turbine on Windy Standard

22 May Windy Standard

Ian, Jimmy & Robert

Only three made the walk this week again. It might have been four had we waited at the meeting place long enough for Peter to join us, but we didn’t so there were only three today on the walk today.

            The weather was fair; the sun shone and the air was clear but the persistent northerly that has been with us for most of the month kept the temperature down. Still we anticipated a good walk as we drove to the water treatment works at the head of Glen Afton. In the glen we were sheltered from the full effects of the wind, and the start of the walk to the dam face was relatively warm in the morning sunshine. But, as we climbed up the path by the face of the dam, we could feel the wind rising. And a chill wind it was.

            Work is being carried on at the dam at the moment and men in hard hats could be seen mulling around the middle of it, too far away for our inquiries. Nor was there anybody about at the works headquarters - a port-a-cabin surrounded by land-working machinery and a temporary fence - so our nosiness about what work was being carried out went unsatisfied. We continued up the track to find the forest road that runs from here toward the Dalmellington to Carsphairn road.

            Now, as we climbed with the road, we could feel the full effects of the northerly wind – strengthening and chilling – and we were only too happy to crest the ridge and drop into the shelter of the trees in the valley of the Water of Deugh. It was here that we met the cyclist. A man of our own vintage was labouring upward pushing his mountain bike by his side. As you know, we are not the people to miss the opportunity for a blether so we stopped to encourage our new friend in our inimitable fashion. ‘Only another four miles to the top’, said we seeing how he was enjoying himself. We can only hope he made it.

            We walked on easier than he did for we were now going down into the valley of the Deugh. ‘Coffee’, said Ian and we stopped on the bridge over the Deugh for a break. The morning was warm in the shelter of the trees and we, even Robert, were happy to take our time over coffee.

            After coffee we left the forest road and stated the first serious climb of the day. This climb through a firebreak was wet underfoot and warm from the effort. But it was not as wet as it might have been given the weather of the last few months. Nor was it as warm as it might have been for, as we rose, we found the strong northerly again. By the time we cleared the trees and came to the first wind turbine on Jedburgh Knees the wind was strong and chilly. But, as we turned on the wind farm road towards Windy Standard, it was on our backs and we walked on comfortably taking in the view as we went.

It was the northerly wind that kept the air clear and the views took in the Ayrshire plain and as far north as Whitelee wind farm, as far east as the Lowther Hills, as far south as the Cumbrian fells and as far southwest as the high Galloways. But there was no Arran in the west. Somehow a haze hung over the sea and Arran was obscured today. And the view changed subtly as we walked along the road towards the short climb to the Standard itself.

We came across a turbine with one blade missing. The blade lay along the hillside awaiting repair or re-fixing and the turbine stood forlornly still while its neighbours waved at each other in the strong wind. The bladeless turbine needed investigating and we made the fifty metre diversion to examine it and the blade. This is where Ian’s engineering knowledge came to the fore. He used words like ‘ergs’ and ‘torques’ and ‘kilowatt hours’ and we nodded in intelligently and hung on his every word. Then we walked on before he could come up with more words.

The short climb to the top was easy and we found ourselves standing by the trig point with what seem like no effort at all. A figure was seen coming to the top from the opposite direction to us. She had come from the Ken Valley and was making her way along the wind farm roads to Clennoch bothy and back to the Ken. (She was asked her name but the scribe’s memory is not the sharpest and he has forgotten it, hasn’t he! If this lady reads this blog she might give us her name in a comment – Ed.) The wind was beginning to really chill now so we left our new friend to continue her walk and started our descent towards the Afton again.

Hunger was beginning to call as we came down the fence towards the Afton but the wind was strong and cold and there was no shelter until we reached the edge of the forest again. We left our downward progress and crossed to the edge of the trees where we were out of the wind and settled down to eat.

After lunch we came round and down the hill towards a sheep pen we could see in the valley bottom. This, said Jimmy, would avoid the wet of the bog that is the Source of the Afton. Avoid the bog we may have done but there were still some wet patches to be negotiated before the sheep pen was reached, and even after this. But negotiated they were and we found the path that would take us down the right of the burn to the head of the reservoir. Some work is being done here as well with a new road being driven in, but whether this has anything to do with the work at the dam we don’t know for there was still nobody about to ask. No doubt we will find out in due course.

A pair of sandpiper lifted from the bank of the burn as came down the road to find the forest road that would take us back to the dam. The walk along the road by the side of the reservoir was a delight in the afternoon sun and we arrived back at the cars sun-kissed, wind-blown and thoroughly pleased with the day’s walk.

FRT was taken in The Sun in Cumnock, a vastly improved place since the first time we came here seven years ago.

27 October So This Is Windy Standard Then

Distance 13.8 km (or 14.2 km if you believe Ian's GPS)



Allan, Davie, Ian, Jimmy, Johnny, Paul, Rex & Robert

Some would argue that the air of confusion that hangs over a meeting of the Ooters would indicate a complete disorganisation within the group or perhaps the early onset of senility. Others would see it as an ability to think on the hoof, re-evaluate the situation and act accordingly. Whichever your viewpoint this was another morning of confused chatter when we gathered at Ian’s place in Kilmarnock in the dark of a late October morning
In the convivial surrounds of the Crown in Sanquhar last week we hatched a plan. The intention was to travel to Loch Katrine, take the steamer to Stronachlachar and walk back; this would be our last chance for the year for the boats stopped sailing on Halloween. It also explains why we gathered in Ian’s somewhere before dawn. But, when the day arrived, so did the weather. A depression centred off Iceland was throwing rain bearing fronts in our direction and the area round Loch Katrine was to be subjected to some heavy rain. While one or two were still keen to make the trip north, there were those who, given the rain of yesterday and the forecast, preferred not to go so far for a soaking. And when our weather-man said ‘No’, we were inclined to take his word and cancel our Trossachs sojourn. The boat trip will need to wait till next year.
The foul weather alternative was to walk along the old railway from Kilmarnock to Irvine. Now, we have done this walk before and it is just that – a slog along an old railway through not particularly interesting territory (The scrappies yard at Knockentiber notwithstanding). A change of mind was creeping in. When the weather-man said it might be drier and brighter further south, we sought alternatives in that direction. Ayrshire coast? Loch Doon area? Ness Glen? We eventually settled on an old favourite - Windy Standard from Glen Afton.
The sun shone as dawn broke but cloud still hung on the hills as we drove towards New Cumnock and it looked for a bit like this was going to be another ‘Windy Standard day’ (see 31/01/2007 & 11/03/2009) But there was blue sky above this and as we drove up the single track road of Glen Afton we could see the clag break up in the sunshine. We might be lucky after all. The only fly in the ointment of the morning was the cool westerly we experience when we left the cars at the waterworks. (The fishers' car park was closed due to ‘Dangerous trees’ so we were forced to find a spare piece of ground by the waterworks)
The route taken was the same as previously – up to the dam, find the forest road and walk westward on this toward the base of the hill. The pace was brisk on this upward section, brisk enough to raise the pulse and keep us warm against the westerly blowing in our faces. What made today different from other times we have come this way though, was that today there was a view. Near the top of the rise we stopped to take in that view and recover some breath. Behind us lay the deep blue waters of the Afton Reservoir and beyond this the winter yellow hills of Davie’s ‘Four Tops’ walk. To our left the ‘windmills’ on Windy Standard turned on the fresh westerly. And to our right the rubbish dump of generations of Glen Afton farmers – tangles of wire and fence posts, old fridges and cookers, tyres and wheels, and drums of unidentifiable liquids. ‘It’s the view that makes it all worthwhile’ said Rex. But we didn’t spend too long admiring it, even if the old wardrobe looked interesting, for the wind was chilly and sweat was turning cold. We moved on.
We thought that when we entered the forest plantation we would be sheltered from the wind. Not at first though, for the road ran directly into the wind and the trees acted like a funnel for it. But as the road turned and veered and dropped toward the Deugh, the strength of the wind was lost and the walking was a bit more pleasant. At the bridge over the infant Deugh Water, where we always stop for coffee, we stopped for coffee.
After coffee, Robert made a quick check to make sure nothing was left at the bridge – yes, Jimmy had his specs – and we moved on.
No more than a quarter of a mile along the road we came to the base of our hill, left the road and took to a steep fire break that would raise us to the heights of Jedburgh Knees. That this is Allan’s favourite part of the world became obvious as he again took his time savouring every upward step through the dripping grass and soggy peat mosses while the indifferent rushed on to the top. Only Johnny waited (eventually) to share Allan’s pleasure in the climb. When the two cleared the trees and came on to the open hill they saw the speedsters waiting for then on the crown of the ridge barely fifty metres away beside one of the many wind turbines that occupy this top.
Windy Standard is well named. Even on its lower subsidiary top of Jedburgh Knees we felt the strength of the westerly. We suppose that is why they planted wind turbines here. One advantage of having the wind-farm here (‘There are advantages?’ asks Jimmy) is that there is a service road right along this ridge and on to the top of the hill. We followed this upward towards the summit, taking in the view as we did so. To the east were the hills of Glen Afton – Black Craig, Black Lorg, Alwhat and Alhang with the lower rocky peak of Steyamara looking down the glen – and behind rose the Lowthers with the ‘golf ball gleaming white in the sun. To the north Glen Afton ran out onto the plains of central Ayrshire, Cumnock and Auchinleck being the most obvious settlements. To the west Cairnsmore of Carphairn looked very close much to the surprise of some of the group whose spacial awareness wasn’t to the fore today. But beyond this the Rhinns of Kells and the high Galloways still hid in clag and the sky in that direction was greying. We could only hope that this wasn’t the start of the forecasted rain coming in our direction.

'So this is what the view from Windy Standard looks like', said Paul taking it all in as we walked.
But we didn’t stop to take in the view for the wind was fresh and cooling, and we pushed on for the top. Well, one of us pushed on to the top. Davie left the road and took a path directly for the summit trig point while the rest of us stuck to the road. Davie would like it recorded that he was the only one who reached the summit today for the road swung round the top and missed it by fifty yards and some thirty feet of height. Did we care? Did we heck! We’ve been there before – we think!
‘It’s all downhill from here’, said Davie when he rejoined us, ‘Follow me. I know the way down’. No offence meant to Davie but on a clear day such as this, the way down was obvious to us all. So down we set. Now that we were on the lea side of the hill, a suitable place to eat was sought. Robert, Rex and Johnny found a spot on a dry, well dryish, mound sheltered from the breeze. But Davie had a better place ‘just down here’ so we walked on. ‘Just down here’ turned out to be down beside a fence* for quarter of a mile, over the fence and up the side of another slope, Millaneoch, and down through a boggy area toward the Afton Water. Half an hour after we left the original lunch stop, we stopped for lunch on a boulder some hundred feet or so above the floor of the valley.
The car park at the waterworks was barely an hour away from or peece-stop. We came down through the bog to a wee cleuch (gorge, Rex) on the Afton. The burn had to be crossed; there was no other way to find the track that would take us to the forest road round the reservoir. A place was found near a sheep fank and the burn crossed without mishap, though not without consternation in some quarters. The quad track was found easily enough and took us down past the old fruiterer’s van now serving as some sort of storage shed for the shepherd, a fruiterers van which, for some reason or other, always causes amusement in our ranks. Rex stopped to photograph it while the rest walked on. The track took us down the side of the Afton Water to the forest road where we waited for David Baillie to catch us up.
Now it was just a half hour saunter round the reservoir to the dam and back to the cars. And still the sun shone on us.
This was a good day, better than the forecast suggested and easily the best of our outings to Windy Standard. ‘Just over 14 Km at just over 5Km/h’, said Ian consulting his sat-nav. We were happy enough with this.
Another instance of our trying new things came when we went to the Craighead in Cumnock for FRT

* Holly found out the hard way that this was an electric fence and was live. Some of you in New Cumnock might have heard her squeals as she retreated sharply from the offending object.

1 April Glen Afton – The Four Tops for the fourth time

The year's at the spring

And day's at the morn;

Morning's at seven;

The hillside's dew-pearled;

The lark's on the wing;

The snail's on the thorn;

God's in His heaven -

All's right with the world!
~Robert Browning

We were promised another splendid day on the hill when the sun shone early in the morning, bathing the hills in warming spring light and filling Glen Afton with cloud. It looked as though we might have a superb sunny day with a temperature inversion to look out on from the heights. We all relished the thought. But, as we gathered at Jimmy’s place in Cumnock, the cloud had gathered and the sun was gone. And when we drove into Glen Afton, the temperature inversion had gone as well. It now looked like another overcast day on the hill.
At ten minutes to ten we left the fisher’s car park in the glen and walked the mile and a bit down the road to Blackcraig Farm road-end and the old pony track for Kirkconnel. We were for Davie’s ‘Four Tops’ again. This was old ground for most, only Allan and Ian were newcomers, but it is a good walk and one worth doing again and again. And we were doing it again, for the fourth time as Ooters.





Davie set the pace down the road, and a brisk pace it was. We think it might have something to do with the new boots he was wearing for the first time today. But he assured us he would slow up when we started the climb of the old track. We accepted his assurance albeit reluctantly for we know Davie. He may well have slowed up on the climb but it was difficult to tell as he and Rex disappeared into the distance leaving the rest of us gasping in their wake. Robert in particular felt the pace on this upward section, going from the front to near the rear in a matter of minutes. And the fast two continued to set the pace until they were eventually hailed from the rear by the struggling group demanding a coffee break. They screeched to a halt at the sheep fank where we all gathered for a breather and a caffeine boost.
The landscape was beginning to open up for us and the view to the top of Glen Afton was good, even under the cloudy sky. Steyamara was the main focal point. This was pointed out to Allan as our last top of the day. Allan’s response was that now we have seen it can we go directly to the pub? His new-found love of the hills is beginning to show.
Despite the overcast sky and the coolish southerly breeze, the air by the sheep fank had the feel of spring in it. This feeling was heightened by the burbling of a whaup, heard but not seen, and the singing of the skylark above our heads. We had a very pleasant coffee break. We might have remained seated at the sheep fank for much longer but the mountaineers were eager to go.

We were to follow the old pony track for a while yet. This old Victorian pony track is now in various states of repair. From the farm to well above the sheep fank it has been gouged out by modern machinery and has been left rough and strewn with boulders. This was hard going and we were stretched out once again. But we eventually came to the old, smoother surface and this made for easier walking, especially when as the slope eased. However, we also found the first wet patches of the day. The track-side ditches are clogged up and the moss spills over the track in many places. These soggy areas were unavoidable and tested Davie’s new boots to the limit. And through this wet, we came to the summit of the track.
Now we had a view northward over the East Ayrshire farmland as far as Auchinleck. Eastward, Nithsdale was filled with the cloud we had seen in Glen Afton earlier in the morning but the hills beyond were clear - perhaps the folk of Nithsdale were getting the temperature inversion we had hoped for. And this eastern view increased in scope as we continued the walk.
We left the track to run its course towards Nithsdale and took to the hill. This was the steepest part of the day according to Jimmy. We took him at his word and trudged ever upward. Steep it might have been, but it wasn’t a long steep and it soon eased onto the broad, flat top of Blackcraig. This is an interesting top, the only rocky one in the group and extends over a considerable plateau. Rocky outcrops break the thin soil providing shelter for alpine plants. Deep hollows hide sphagnum bogs and lure the unwary into knee deep mires. We had no option but to wade through some of the shallower of these bogs to come the half mile or so across the top to the trig point that marks the highest point of the plateau.
The view was westward now. Immediately in front of us was Windy Standard. (‘So that’s what it looks like’ said those who had been on this top earlier in the year.) Behind this, Cairnsmore of Carsphairn still held a cornice of snow making it look higher than its two and a half thousand feet. Beyond this, the northern end of the Rhinns of Kells also held snow cornices. The Awful Hand range in the blue distance was patched with snow, showing Merrick at its best, and it was suggested we should go there some day. The sun shone on these western hills and it looked as though it was heading in our direction. We were hopeful.
Some wanted to lunch at the Blackcraig trig point for this was the highest point of the day but we were in a cool breeze and others suggested we wait for the next top, Blacklorg. A compromise was reached when it was suggested we ate in the col between the two tops where we might be out of the wind. Full marks must go to the advanced pair of Rex and Robert who found us a dry, sheltered spot with a view eastward over cloud-filled Nithsdale to the Lowther Hills and Tinto. We ate and rested long. It was turning into a day for long stops.

And as we sat, the sunshine arrived. It was to stay with us for the rest of the day and turn the afternoon pleasantly warm.
In terms of distance, we were more than half way through the walk but in terms of time and effort we were well through our day with the bulk of our climbing behind us. The climb from the peece stop to the top of Blacklorg was easy, well much easier than it looked, and we found ourselves on the second of our four tops standing in the spring sunshine, admiring the view, almost in three-sixty degrees now. We might have spent some time here but we have amongst us those who would rather move on. So, on it was.
Down the line of the old dry-stane dyke we went, beside the fence, through more soggy patches and came to a col between Blacklorg and Cannock Hill. There is a superb view down the glen from this col and Jimmy stopped to take a picture. He was consigned to the rear of the group thereafter for the Ooters are not known for waiting for snappers. Now came the short climb onto Cannock. Rex showed his athletic ability by running up the slope. Some wished him well in his attempt and some reminded him he was an auld man. But this burst of athleticism was only so that he could get high to the front to take a picture. Oh! How we suffer for our art! We hope the picture was worth the lung-bursting effort. Needless to say Rex was first to the top and Jimmy was last.

‘We’re making good time’, said the wise one, he of the new boots. Robert looked at the rocky stub of our last top some mile and a bit away, down and along the ridge. ‘Twenty minutes should see us there’, said he. Jimmy said, ‘A good half and hour’. We set off to test their estimates.
Robert and Alan took off like men on a mission, determined to prove the twenty minute theory. Jimmy, Allan and Ian took their time. They knew it would be half an hour. We were strung along the ridge as the fast sped on and the slow took their time and everybody else straggled somewhere in between. Who was right? Well, Alan and Rex made it in twenty with Robert a minute behind. The slow panted up six minutes later with Jimmy gasping that he hadn’t ettled on some p_p_p_person trying to set a land speed record. (These weren’t his exact words but it’s what he meant. He still reckons sensible folk would take half an hour.) We rested on the peak for a few minutes taking photographs and allowing the speedy to recover before attempting the descent through the rough grass and boulders we knew to be waiting for us.

The descent isn’t as we remembered it. A rudimentary path has been established by local hill-men and this eased the down-slope for us. Rex led the way but it was the tail-enders of Davie and Allan who saw the wildlife. A large hare sped off from under their feet making their hearts pound, as if the slope hadn’t already been doing just that.
Twenty minutes later, and fluttering hearts a bit calmer, we gathered at the dam of Glen Afton Reservoir.
The usual comments on the disgraceful state of the fountain and road weren’t made today for we were full of the joys of a good walk on the hill on a super spring day. We walked casually down the few hundred metres to the fisher’s car park.

Once again, the watering hole chosen for this area was the Mercat in Cumnock. Sadie, the good lady of the place, had promised stovies and duly obliged. While mine host, Ian, poured the refreshment, Sadie served platefuls of the warming stew. We were royally treated by the pair and all for a very reasonable cost. (There was still a smile on our treasurer’s face.) And the ale was good. There is little doubt that we will be back here

.

Report by Jimmy
Photos by Jimmy, Rex, Johnnie

11 March Windy Standard, we think

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In January 2007, the Ooters went to Windy Standard and saw nothing but wind turbines and fog. Nothing much changes in the Ooters. Today, the postponed walk of last week was put back on schedule and seven of us gathered in Jimmy’s house in Cumnock. Despite the unpromising start to the morning, we were hopeful of a good walk for our weatherman predicted a ribbon of rain crossing in the early morning and drier weather coming behind, around eleven o’clock. Even when we arrived in Glen Afton in the fog, we were still optimistic for we believe our weatherman. Has he ever let us down? Waterproofs were worn anyway.
We also believe Davie when he says that he knows this hill like the back of his hand. But, just in case, GPS’s were set and Rex even came armed with a map. He was slightly miffed when the route that he had plotted wasn’t the one that Jimmy and Davie had in mind. ‘We always go this way’, said they and nothing much changes in the Ooters. ‘Up the dry way and down the wet’, said Jimmy. So we set off their way, up through the clag to the face of the dam. Rex had suggested, and many agreed, that we should climb to Castle William and along the road from there but the ‘we always go this way’ two prevailed. Their excuse was that we would walk our legs in before attempting a steep climb. So, the face of the dam it was.
The water of the reservoir (or what we could see of it through the fog) was steely grey and choppy and looked bitterly cold. Already we encountered the breeze. And with it came the rain. This wasn’t particularly heavy rain but it was continuous and varied between a heavy drizzle and heavier showers. And it persisted as we climbed the forest road away from Glen Afton to the valley of the Deugh. So did the fog.
When we came into the trees at the head of the pass, we were sheltered from the wind but we found last week’s snow still lying two or three inches deep on the road. Though it was crystalline and rotting, it still made the going more tiring than it should have been and we quietly thanked goodness that we were going down through it rather than up. And down through it we came, to the Deugh brig where coffee was called.
At the beginning of the walk Holly was given a pink tennis ball to chase instead of sticks. Somewhere along the road this ball was lost. Holly spent coffee time trying to persuade us to throw sticks for her and obviously wondered why we weren’t. (The puir dug tried this for the rest of the walk but we have been well warned and kept our hands in our pockets. No more cricket skills practice for Johnny and Rex, I’m afraid.)

After coffee we kept to the road for a bit. The naturalist was asked what made the tracks in the snow. ‘Fox’, he replied confidently knowing full well that nobody would contradict what he said. Nobody did for he was probably correct. Other tracks were found when we left the road and started the climb of Jedburgh Knees. Deer were obvious to everybody. Dog the same. But polar bear we suspect to be a figment of an overactive imagination.
That Allan is now enjoying hill climbing became obvious to us all on the steep, wet, snow-covered slope onto the Knees. How else could we explain why he took so long, savouring every upward step. And he took every advantage of frequently called view stops to enjoy the prospect of the climb still to come. Well, they would have been view stops if we had had a view. The fog persisted, but was the rain easing? The slope certainly wasn’t and Allan continued his enjoyment of the climb. It was a sweaty group that collected on the crest of the ridge at the base of a windmill, sweaty but chilled for we were now back into the wind.
Jimmy’s opinion of wind turbines on the hill is well known in the Ooters but now he has an ally in opposition in Allan. The only decent thing about them is the ladder on which to have a photo-shoot. Johnny duly arranged us and we duly obliged.

Now came the interesting part. Going up in the fog is easy, you just keep climbing. When you can’t find anything else to climb, you have reached the top. Coming down is a different matter. There is an infinite number of ways to get lost and find yourself at the wrong place at the foot of the hill. If you want to come down to a specific place, you have to choose the route carefully. We wanted to come back to the cars in Glen Afton. We chose our route carefully. We followed Davie! (Do we never learn?)
‘Follow the electric fence but don’t touch it, it’s live’, said the voice of experience. This we did, slithering down through the rotting snow to find ourselves at a gate in the said fence. ‘Through the gate’, said our leader. This we did and started up the opposite slope. Jimmy’s homing instinct kicked in. ‘We shouldnae be climbing’, said he and struck off downward. He was followed by Rex and then the rest of us, including Davie.
Jimmy’s instinct for home is good but so also is his instinct for finding bogs. This one was a cracker. (Before the linguists start on the scribbler, he knows you can’t crack bogs – it’s just the way I tell 'em! All right, it was a squelcher.) We squelched through inches deep bog and foot deep mire and, in some instances, open water and appeared to be getting nowhere. Mind you, he did say we would come down the wet way. When Davie and he made for the higher ground on the other side of the bog, there were suspicions of being lost again. Oh! Ye of little faith. When GPS’s and maps were consulted it showed us to be where they thought we were and, yes, we were heading in the right direction. We knew this for a fact when we found the burn flowing northward, the Afton. (Paul’s 3D map would later prove how unerring these two are in the navigation.)
We followed the Afton down through a narrow valley to find the forest road by the reservoir. The fit took off at speed along the road but the sensible adopted a more sedate pace and followed behind. ‘Is that the reservoir there?’ asked Ian with a surprised note in his voice, pointing to the grey choppy water appearing out of the fog. He was assured it was and we had only about a mile left to go. ‘Is that the dam already?’ enquired the same person with the same surprised tone a few minutes later. He was given the same reassurance. He was even more reassured when we caught up with the speedy, lounging against the wall of the dam.
The walk back to the cars was taken at a gentle pace and we arrived around two o’clock. Credit to the weather forecaster, the rain did go off half way through the day but the b***** fog was still down. We were half way down Glen Afton before we eventually came out of it. Another day on Windy Standard and another day of seeing b*****-all but windmills and fog.

We retired to the Mercat in Cumnock for FRT today for last week we had been promised stovies. The disappointment of the day was to continue. The bar was crowded and the stovies had been forgotten about. However, mine host, Ian, and his good lady made up for this by opening a room especially for us and providing free crisps as well as good cheer. We will be back here.

Report by Jimmy

Photos by Johnnie

Windy Standard: 11th March 2009 am.

Windy Standard - 3D route

Distance 14.2 Km. Luckily the GPS was on for most of the day otherwise I would have had no idea where we had been. The route taken from Windy Standard to the reservoir was surprisingly direct!!

Windy standard on a good day (1983)

Hi guys.

This is what you should have seen on Windy Standard - minus the bike and plus the windmills but basically the same. We are looking towards Glen Afton and Black Craig. Technical note for Rex : This was scanned from a print made from a slide on Kodachrome 64