Wednesday 7 September 2016

Tinto Hill -7 September

Davie M, Rex, Paul, Ian, Robert, Kenny T, Jim.

We gathered at Davie’s and wasted no time in getting on our way. Heading towards the M74 the day began to look promising, with plenty of blue in the sky, but as we drove south, heavy cloud could be seen sitting on the hills. Tinto’s top was in the clouds and as we stepped out of the cars there was just a smirr. Some opted for waterproofs, others didn’t.

Optimism was rewarded because the rain didn’t come to anything. For some of us this was the first ascent of Tinto, for others it was the first time for a couple of decades.  Your scribe was in the latter group who all agreed the hill had become considerably steeper in the intervening years.



Davie, Rex and Holly raced away at a rate of knots although Rex eventually fell back to the main group. One man and his dog headed into the mist whilst the mere mortals, seeing the steepness of the next section, opted for a breather, a coffee and a share of Rex’s jelly babies.

Revived, we tackled the final ascent with a spring in our collective step. And whilst we were getting our caffeine fix the mist had cleared, so we were greeted from afar by Davie, sitting in the lee of the summit boulders, sheltering from a fairly strong wind.

“55 minutes” he proudly proclaimed.  No one was particularly impressed. As we huddled behind the rocks we could see a figure ascending quickly. A chap in shirtsleeves. Of course, we had to ask how long he’d taken to climb Tinto. “About 45 minutes” he declared. We were impressed. Davie didn't appear to be, though.

Although the visibility wasn't perfect, the view from the summit was good. The Pentland Hills above Auchendinny  seemed no distance at all and we could just make out the Bass Rock and Berwick Law.




From the top we headed NNW descending a broad hillside affording more fine views. Lunch was taken behind a convenient wall, since the wind was still blowing.

We completed our descent down a steep bank, at the foot of which an artic was loading up logs. By now it had warmed up enough for sun hats and t-shirts to make an appearance as we made our way down a green lane and then onto tarmac for the last couple of miles back to the cars.

An excellent walk, estimated at 9 miles in all.

We decided to return via Muirkirk and the Empire Bar, where we were warmly welcomed by the regulars, whose numbers today had been augmented a little. Today’s canine joke. A man with size 14 feet has lost his dog. What’s the man’s name?

Absentees should have an answer prepared for Wednesday.

by Paul

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