A beautiful hue of purples and reds hung in the air tonight, from 6.30 to 8; shortly before dusk was quickly ushered in.
Not a single slip or fall on the single track between Hardridge Farm and Clydemuirshiel HQ; enough standing water within the deeper recesses, but the recent drier weather had certainly left its mark. Many of the gates leading up onto the route had been left open: lambing season permits freer movement of sheep, perhaps?
Wearing SPD clips is certainly an art form, one that I am at least undertaking as a novice. My feet were drenched, but rather the bravery of plunging ahead than the previous ambiguous and slow wobbling; of trying to pick my way through brown pools of slate and rock.
I entered a deserted Clydemuirshiel, which will be preparing itself for another season of visitors, walkers and hungry young minds to be fed by the splendour of the outdoors…
‘Road Closed’ signs appeared shortly after joining the road out from Lochwinnoch; after leaving Clydemuirshiel I envisaged a return leg across the moorland beneath the silver slice of moon which had suddenly materialised…
Some chap, whom I presumed was a farmer or farmhand slowed his jeep to extend quick pleasantries, noting that he hadn’t seen my car parked in this location since summer.
I quickly (and politely) retorted that I had been making every effort on the B roads during the inclement weather, and that this was one of the few safer evenings for going ‘off road’.
There’s just no pleasing some people!