First Hill For Cooper

"I was ambling along through trees and country paths, fair enjoying my wee dauner, Master trailing in my wake as I pulled the tow rope with all the strength I could manage. Now and then I paused for a sniff (So many scents! Where to start???) and chased a few wee beasties, and now and then I managed to almost pull him off his feet as he seemed in a bit of a trance - big smile on his coupon for a change and a definite spring in his step."

"So, I'm thinking: been about an hour now and no end of this walk in sight. He's usually turned tail and headed for home by now, wonder if I'll get some of those brilliant wee bits of sausage he normally gives me when I'm good (sometimes I just pretend I'm being good in order to get a treat!). Then he does the strangest thing: he rummages about in his pockets (I like it when he does that, usually he'll come out with something tasty) and produces this silly looking yellow thing I've never seen before, breaks it in half and proffers it to me like he usually does when I'm getting a treat. Looks quite pleased with himself too. Well, I'm pretty famished by now and as I said, we've been on the go for over an hour and no treats so far, so when he says "What's this, Cooper," my eyes light up. So, I get tore in to this offering, and what do you know, tastes brilliant! Jelly Babies he calls them. Needless to say, I was on my best behavior for ages after that. Well, at least until the Jelly Babies ran out. Think I'll need to get out on the big hills with Master more often, maybe he's got more stashed away somewhere."

"Anyway, after a good few Jelly Babies, I begin to realize that he's not going back the way we came and that this wee stroll is turning into something much more serious. These Jelly Babies are just bribery! We soon reach a rocky, slabby section where the ground gets much steeper and all the humans are slowing down. This is great because we start overtaking loads of them and it makes me feel quite fit. I have noticed however that Master is also slowing down somewhat and I'm the one doing all the work at the front of the tow rope he has me tied to. He likes to think he knows what he's doing, so he does, but it seems to be me who's the leader on this walk - I'll show him who's the fittest."

So, as we near the top of Goat Fell I'm quite glad that Cooper seems to be in good shape. He's actually pulling me up the hill behind him. He's just 18 months and this is his first bigger hill. Vets recommend not walking them too far when they're younger, as it can damage their bones when they're still developing.

I'm on Goat Fell today, same as this time last year, supporting a colleague who's busking at the summit to raise money for Ayrshire Hospice. I bump into Eddy, already hunkered down at the top, guitar in hands, dressed in a warm jacket with the hood up and wearing a top hat. He starts busking as Cooper and I get tucked into some tasty tuna and corned beef rolls. Cooper manages to eat about the same amount as me, which is unusual for him. He obviously used up a lot of energy pulling me up the hill. Then we get somebody to take a snap of Cooper and I.

But the summit is really busy today, and I like things a bit more peaceful, so I put some money in Eddy's tin and head off down Stacach to escape the madding crowd. Little more than five minutes later we're alone and savoring the solitude. The weather is improving by the minute and we go for a wee scramble over one of the stacks before taking an easier route across to North Goat Fell. Then we descend into Corrie Lan for a leisurely stroll down to Corrie, where we'll catch a bus to connect with the 4.40pm ferry.

We stopped for a breather just inside the tree line (lots of encouraging new Silver Birch and Mountain Ash regeneration) and I noticed some movement in my peripheral vision. I looked down to see a small black snake of about 45-50cm in length shoot off to my right. I quickly got my phone onto video setting and had the privilege of witnessing either a young Adder or a Grass Snake (ongoing debate) beating a hasty retreat to some better cover in a grass banking beside the path.

Not the greatest picture of a snake ever taken, but hey, I was in a hurry!

Not much later we found ourselves in the lovely wee village of Corrie, where we stopped at The Rock Pool for a takeaway coffee and carrot cake, before catching the bus just ten minutes later. What a great day out we had, me and the dug, and given his immense capacity for such a wee thing, I'll be  sure to take hime on many a mountain wander in future. Wonder what Cooper thinks.

"Well, given the fact that he fed me well, and particularly the discovery of my love for Jelly Babies, I might just take to this mountain lark. Anyway, don't suppose I've much of a choice when he decides to rope me up and sets off into the wild blue yonder. There are worse things in life, I suppose, chasing cats excepted, and those tuna rolls wee pretty tasty too. I'll go along with it for the meantime anyway- maybe he'll get a bit fitter and keep up next time."

When I Get Older, Losing My Hair...

The day started well enough: breakfast at 7.15am - poached egg on toast. Checked FB, read some mail, looked at some bike stuff online - all good so far, usual Saturday morning. Got out on bike at 7.50 with Colin and rode over to Dalgarven, where Al joined us, before heading up the steep wee hill at the back of the mill and out onto route 7. At this point the heavens opened and we struggled up the Blair, before the rain stopped near RNAD Beith.

We headed across the bypass and through Beith toon centre before dropping into the valley and hanging a right on a wee country road alongside the dump - mingin!!! before following the Barr Loch along to the Hungry Monk and then down a section of busy road before joining a nice new cycle path from the RSPB centre down to Castle Semple. By this time the sun had put in an appearance and we warmed up as we stopped for a quick blether before heading back up the cycle route towards Kilbirnie. The plan was to head over the Hagthorn, as Colin's gears were jumping around a bit and he didn't want to test them on Auchengree hill, at Longbar.

We headed off the cycle route at Stoneyholm Road, Kilbirnie, headed through the Cross and down to Garden City, before being stopped by a police car, which had closed the road to Dalry. They informed us there had been a gas main severed along the route and we hurriedly revised our plans, heading along the wee road to Glengarnock.

We had just passed the railway station when catastrophe struck - there was a loud crunching sound as Colin's chain snapped, whipped his shin and wrapped itself around his rear cassette. Clearly he would be going no further.

Being Colin, he didn't have either phone or cash on his person, so he borrowed my phone to call his wife for assistance. No reply! Al and I figured we had enough money between us to fund his train fare to Kilwinning, but that would've meant walking home from the train station, so he declined this offer. Eventually, I phoned Pam to come to our aid. Three roof-mounted cycle carriers are very handy.

Chain-less and incapacitated

We then waited in a shelter on the railway platform, while a clearly disgruntled Colin gently simmered, annoyed at his misfortune recently. A few weeks previously, whilst out on his other bike, he had snapped a crank in half and had to walk home unaided from Dalry. Well, at least he had made it a wee bit further this time, but he hasn't had his bike problems to seek lately and they will be expensive to remedy.

Happy Chappy!

Pam arrived in the Broom Wagon very quickly and we loaded the bikes onto the roof before beating a hasty retreat to the comfort and warmth of home, as the weather continued to rage unabated all around us. Colin - you did us a favour getting us away from the clag and wind - every cloud has a silver lining. We can organize a benefit gig to pay for repairs. I'll sing and Al can play guitar - we'll sing 'When I'm Sixty-Four' by the Beatles, and you can play spoons!

Good Things Come in Twos

A cancelled work engagement is invariably an opportunity for a cycle. This morning, I found myself in Irvine for a meeting that never was and sometimes that's a good thing. So, I quickly revised my plans and headed home to change into my cycling gear, collect my bike and head in to work at Kilbirnie.

That was the first positive thing.

The second positive was discovering a lost Fiver down the back of my bedside cabinet - and now a cake from the bakers would be my treat on arrival at work - Yowser!

The Skydiver in question

Unfortunately though, good things don't always come in threes, as I discovered when I punctured a tyre before I'd even got out of Kilwinning. Never mind, there was no time pressure and I took my time changing the tube before boldly setting off again, over the viaduct and up the Blair on a well-travelled route that I still enjoy immensely.

Eventually, the fourth positive thing arrived when I discovered that I had loads of TOIL. So, I managed to deal with a shedload of work stuff (as well as a tasty cake!) before finishing early and taking the long way home - 25 miles to be precise. Kilbirnie - Beith - Lugton - Dunlop - Stewarton - Kilmaurs - Cunninghamehead - Benslie, and home again, pleasantly knackered but thoroughly satisfied.

Ben Bhuidhe Bike And Hike (The Election Antidote)

Man!!!! The guidebooks really under-sell this hill!

I reckon the guys who've written about Ben Bhuidhe must've gone up in bad weather. I can see how this could put you off, as navigation would certainly be difficult. But, go up on a cracking Spring day like today and this under-rated mountain will take you by surprise.

Additionally, today's jaunt was my medicine, having worked 16 hours yesterday at a polling station on election duty. The sacrifices one has to make to oil the wheels of democracy. Or more appropriately, to earn enough to purchase a Kindle and a load of books for my next backpacking trip!

The wee car park, just up the road from Loch Fyne Oyster Bar, is a badly potholed undercarriage- wrecker, ready to rip your exhaust off with one careless lunge. I parked, got my trusty steed off the car roof and blew the place off as quickly as I could, heading up Glen Fyne with the wind at my tail and a song in my head. The route proper starts just past Invercharochan (about 5 miles up the glen) and halfway up the road I was aware of envious glances being cast in my direction, as this is a long walk-in, with the same route to be re-traced on your return. And, quite frankly, the legs, knees and feet need a wee rest after the steep descent (but more of that later).

The road up Glen Fyne

It really was a fine day in the aptly named Glen Fyne. Once I'd parked my bike (I'd forgotten to bring my lock - ah well! I'd just have to employ trust!), I headed through a gate and onwards towards Inverchorachan. A Cuckoo called out as I made my way along the road past banks of primrose and newly-budded rowan and birch bursting into bloom. Then, as I made my way up into the gorge behind Inverchorachan I stopped to photograph some beautiful wee wildflowers.

Start of the gorge

Higher up, once the head of the gorge had been passed, I cut across an ugly road that has been bulldozed across the hillside, I presume for the nearby hydro electric operation. Once across the road I lost the faint path for a while, crossing a quite flat, boggy section before the hill proper. At this point, the craggy ramparts of Ben Bhuidhe appear quite tricky. I stopped to take a bearing on the col and put on a pair of gloves and a hat, as the temperature became noticeably cooler.

Looking across the bog to the gully leading to the col

The view back down to Glen Fyne

A steep gully has to be climbed to reach the col, but appearances can be deceptive as the gully isn't quite as serious as first imagined and I gained the col in double quick time. Once up there, the views really open up.

Looking ahead to the summit

Another 15 minutes from the col and I was at the summit and chatting to a fellow cyclist/walker who had sat down to eat lunch and drink in the amazing views. The lady in question was from Cheshire and had headed north on a month long annual holiday. We attempted to identify the many peaks on display and discovered that we shared our first time on this mountain, both having forsaken it in favour of the many other, more accessible hills in the area. We concluded that the guidebooks were wrong in their lacklustre descriptions of Ben Bhuidhe and agreed that this was a hill well worth doing. 

Looking back from the north top to the summit

After I'd eaten my leftover goodies from yesterday's election duty I headed for the north top, deciding that it would be rude not to. I descended by a more direct route back to the head of the gorge and started the knee-crunching descent back to Inverchorachan and then to where I'd dumped my bike earlier. I was so glad to get in the saddle for the trip back down the glen, rather than a rather long and arduous walk-out on Shanks' Pony.