Cameron Reservoir - 6th December 2020

 I'd wanted to visit Cameron Reservoir for a long time and today gave me an excellent excuse to do the walk I've had marked on my Memory Map for several months - there was a Ringed Neck Duck there. Doubly excited as the sun was shining (one of the rare days it had done so this autumn/winter). I parked at Higham Toll and had a quick sneaky look for the first benchmark of the day. I was a little put off by the arrival of another vehicle. It always looks a little odd when someone is snooping around a car park, so I gave up and head north along the B940 towards Radernie. I really hope I didn't miss what is called a Guideplate, one of those lovely milestones with hands on. I see it used to be there - perhaps even that's where the benchmark is, though I can't see it on any photo.

My walk started in boring fashion along rather a busy road.

B940 near Lathones - NO4709

I didn't expect to find the next benchmark either as it was going to be on a  wall on a busy road, but I cast my eye in the benchmark's direction when I approached and lo and behold, there it was!

Benchmark at Higham House. NO4709

This was a good start to my day and I was confident about the next benchmark too as it was on a milestone and Fife has some beautiful milestones. Sure enough, there it was, in excellent condition.

Milestone near Radernie on B940. NO4609

Benchmark on above milestone.

I was now approaching the hamlet of Radernie and was glad to turn off this busy road. I immediately had to stand to one side to allow a car to pass; it had just set off from a house here. The driver opened his window to greet me (I was glad I'd seen a footpath sign to Cameron Reservoir). A friendly voice asked if I intended walking along that road? I replied in the affirmativek, confident that I was definitely on a footpath. "Lots of people use the other footpath," he replied pointing in the direction I had just come from. I knew which footpath he meant, the one without a footpath sign, the one I had nearly taken. "It's less muddy," he continued, indicating the undeniably muddy path ahead of me. "I'm dressed for it," I lied, smiling and he waved and drove on. I made a mental note to return the other way.

Hamlet of Radernie. NO4609

It definitely was a very muddy footpath, but I'm used to it and it was short-lived.

I photographed a flock of Pink-footed Geese, which I guessed were making their way to Cameron Reservoir (I didn't see them when I got there though).

Pink-footed Geese at Radernie. NO4609

When I reached the point from which I would not be returning the same way, I looked at my GPS to see how far I would have to walk the same way I had come - nearly a mile. Oh, well! Nothing I could do about it. I saw my exit from my return journey and revelled now in being in new territory. And what territory it was. This turned out to be my favourite part of the walk, but I've forgotten to mention I was now in a new gridsquare and I was to be in it for only a very short period - at least that's what I thought at the time. I didn't include the photograph I took then, as I took a slightly better one later on when my route changed - read on to find out why!

A delightful walk. NO4710

A sign at South Radernie pointed left to Cameron Reservoir, but the path I had drawn led straight on, so I ignored the sign and continued, hoping the path would not peter out. It didn't and it was delightful. I was not the only one basking in apricity that day. I soon came across a small flock of finches and another of thrushes and stopped in my tracks to just watch and, if possible, photograph.Blushing pink male Bullfinches were toing and froing across the path and performing acrobatics on seedheads. I was mesmerised.

Bullfinch on seedhead near Cameron Reservoir.

Whilst I was watching the Bullfinches I caught sight of something out of the corner of my eye and gradually turned my head to see what it was. A mammal darted into the wall and I just saw enough of it to make out a long tail and body. It was either a Weasel or a Stoat. I stood statue still and waited, camera poised, for it to reappear.

Stoat near Cameron Reservoir. NO4710

I was absolutely delighted. It was years since I'd had such a good view of a Stoat, for when I saw its black tail as it lept onto the wall and stopped for a split second to stare at me, I knew that's what it was.

Having weighed me up and judged me to be potentially dangerous, it skipped across the track and into a pile of vegetation and I didn't see it again. How wonderfully agile these creatures are and how good at hiding. How many other creatures do I pass each day without realising it? We humans go about with such heavy footsteps and loud voices; we leave a heavy mark on the world. These lightfooted creatures barely disturb the vegetation and scarcely leave a footprint - unless you're talking about a woolly mammoth perhaps!

I floated along the rest of the track in a state of heightened expectancy and enjoyment. Experiences like these are rare and must be treasured. I was already looking forward to capturing the moment in my nature diary later.

The next benchmark was at a former field boundary and I paused when I arrived.I was very unlikely to find it here and guessed it would be a rivet, my favourite sort. I don't like pulling back the moss the look for benchmarks, but something about the way the moss was lying was telling me to explore further and I was glad I did, for there indeed was the rivet! Hidden for who knows how many years.

Easter Radernie rivet. NO4710

Wonderful as this gridsquare had proved to be (and if I ever draw up a list of my top 50 gridsquares in Fife, this will be in that list), I had spent long enough in it and it was time to move onto the next gridsquare - which was Cameron Reservoir itself. I had been looking for signs of the reservoir for the past half a mile or so, but from this southern aspect at least, it is hidden by a line of conifers, so I didn't see it until I was nearly on top of it. I opened another gate and looked for another benchmark, but this time there were no likely looking boulders to be seen. It was bathed in sunshine though.

Gate near Cameron Reservoir. NO4711

I was thoroughly enjoying the day - and I hadn't even looiked at the Reservoir yet. First to inspect the fenceposts, some of which were verdant with lichen and bryophyte growth.

Beautiful fencepost at Cameron Reservoir. NO4711

What a difference it makes when the sun shines. If it sounds like  I was drugged up on sunshine, it's because I was. It had been such an infrequent sight this autumn and that always makes you appreciate something more.

Sunlight at Cameron Reservoir. NO4711

It was only after fully absorbing all of these other delights, that I allowed myself to turn to face the Reservoir itself. I could see lots of wildfowl, mostly gathered in the middle of the reservoir. It wasn't going to be easy to spot the Ring-necked Duck. I had done my research before coming. The bird was like a Tufted Duck but had a pointed head and a sort of ring round its beak. To make matters even more difficult, this bird was a female, so not nearly as recognisable. I peered through my binoculars and immediately added several new species to my day's list: Mute and Whooper Swans, Wigeon and Grey Heron.

Whooper Swan family on Cameron Reservoir. NO4711

There was no way I was going to spot the Ring-necked Duck without a telescope. Just at that moment another birder approached. I asked him if he had seen the Ring-necked Duck and not only had he seen it, but he had also seen a Smew! He gave very detailed directions, which meant retracing my steps. I quickly worked out that if I did that, I could continue my walk along the south shores of Cameron Reservoir rather than the north shores. A quick look at my map informed me that I would only miss one benchmark, but would not miss out on any gridsquares, so I decided to take this guy's advice and change my route.

Cameron Reservoir. NO4711

The above photo shows where I stood to look for the RND and Smew. I spent quite a long time looking and sat on the wet grass with my flask and lemon bakewell hoping that the ducks would swim closer - they didn't. I persevered, however, and gasped when I finally saw something that looked like the Smew. I looked again. It was a long way in the distance, but was unmistakeable. My photo was far too blurry to include here, but was evidence enough for my brother to confirm its identity. I felt very proud of myself for having spotted it. It made up for not seeing the RND, which I did not see.

I then continued  along the well marked path, which was just within the gridsquare I had briefly entered earlier on.

Path south of Cameron Reservoir. NO4610

I continued along this path until I reached the place where I had to divert just a few yards in order to reach the only gridsquare that I would otherwise miss.

Footbridge west of Cameron Reservoir. NO4611

I didn't need to turn right here as I had already bagged NO4611, but I couldn't resist as it would offer me a view of Cameron Reservoir from the west. This is a very attractive body of water and obviously popular with wintering wildfowl.

Cameron Reservoir from the west. NO4611

The path continued to be well-marked as I wandered westwards, glancing every so often at the flooded fields beyond the crop field through which I walked. Again the birds were far too distant to make out their identity.

Flooded field near Cameron Reservoir. NO4610

I approached Blackwalls, which turned out to be deserted, but, sadly the land was obviously farmed  as there were several people chatting there. I say sadly only because I would have liked to investigate the farmyard further. There seemed to be plenty of interest there.

Blackwalls. NO4511

Old truck at Blackwalls. NO4511

I was walking through the field at this stage, having mysteriously missed the path at some stage. I was glad now that I was on the other side of the fence from the path as I had obviously annoyed a barking dog who ran after me and I was thankful for the fence. At the end of the field, however, I had to climb over a fence to get to the road. I'm not sure how one is supposed to access the signed footpath from the road as it was completely blocked from this end.

It was with some caution that I proceeded along the drive to Greigston House. There was no Private sign at the entrance but I erred on the side of caution and walked through the wood, rather than conspicuously along the drive itself. Not wanting to enter the field at the end of the wood due to the menacing presence of a large bull, I lept over another fence onto the driveway and round the corner to the house itself.

Greigston House. NO4411

I nearly went wrong here; in my eagerness to get out of sight of the house, I ended up going directly south along the very obvious driveway to the house. This route would have curtailed my walk by about two miles, but would have missed the trigpoint which I had included in my route. Fortunately, I glance at my phone map so frequently that I quickly realised my mistake and sought a way to rectify it. I needed to head westwards. I entered a field which headed towards the quarry and, had I reaslied it at the time, a doocot. I did see the rectangular building but didn't associate it with a doocot. From now on I photograph everything as this is not the first time I have made this sort of mistake. It is very unlikely that I will ever return here, especially as this section of the walk was one of my worst walking experiences in Fife. Allow me to explain.

Having passed the doocot that I didn't realise was a doocot I ended up at a field full of cows. Hmm. I didn't fancy walking through that lot. I looked for an alternative and saw a paddock with two horses in it. Of the two I would rather face two horses than 100 cows, so I either opened a gate, climbed over a gate or climbed over a fence, I can't remember which and was in the paddock, with the horses. They couldn't have been less interested in me, but I was still relieved to reach the other side, where I climbed over another fence (there'd been a lot of that today!) and was on the very old original road between West Mains and Greigston House. It was obviously a very long time since any vehicle had driven along here.

West Mains or Greigston Mains as it is also known, came into view and I grew anxious about access to my path beyond the farm. I could see no alternative but to walk through two gates just in front of the elevated farmhouse. At the same time a vehicle drove up the farm track and parked at the farmhouse. "Oh, well", I thought to myself, "no-one has chased me, it must be OK." Relieved, I walked down the farm track back to the B940. I stopped to look at some gulls in a ploughed field and thought I heard a vehicle driving up behind me. I turned and I had heard a vehicle behind me. It was a pick up truck, and I prepared to give a friendly wave as I so often have done on these occasions. The truck drew to a halt, however, the window was wound down and an aggressive voice from within asked if I was lost. "No," I replied, my defences going up instantly from his tone of voice. "This isn't a public walk way," he rejoined. "It's a working farm." I said I hadn't seen any private signs and was under the impression one could walk anywhere within reason in Scotland. He obviously was not aware of the right to roam rule and just kept muttering it was a working farm. He was aghast that I would have the audacity to walk through his farm, even though I was by then on the road leading up to the farm and nowhere near the farm and hadn't been anywhere near his farmyard and didn't have a dog with me. 

I rarely encounter such abuse and mostly people are very glad to see people familiarising themselves with their local environment and appreciating their land rather than travelling great distances to walk or go on holiday. But this encounter had marred my day. I tried to forget about it as I continued up to the B940 and turned right. I almost didn't; I almost lost heart and decided to miss the trigpoint, but I'm glad I didn't. This was my least favourite part of the walk by a long way, not lease because I had to walk along this busy road again. I was glad to turn off down another farm track, a long one this time. There were a couple of benchmarks marked on the map on the track to Bruntshiels, but I didn't find any of them. It seemed a very long way to the farmhouse and, just before getting there I viewed the trigpoint in a field with sheep. 

Even without my last encounter, I would have stopped to ask at the farmhouse if it was OK for me to visit the trigpoint. I did so rather nervously this time, but needn't have worried. The lady who answered the door was very friendly and simply asked me to ensure the gate was firmly closed on entering and exiting the field.

Lovely mosses on gatepost on way to Bruntshiels. NO4310.

Bruntshiels trigpoint. NO4310

Despite being hungry and ready for lunch, and despite it being what I would call lunchtime (1 pm), I  couldn't really sit in a field with sheep. I decided to wait until I got to Bankhead Moss where I knew there was some lovely places to sit for lunch. Of course that meant a long walk,  but I would be more relaxed having got it out of the way. I marched as quickly as I could along the B940, not stopping before I got to the entrance to the SWT Reserve at Bankhead Moss. First, though, to look for the benchmark marked on the map on the opposite side of the road at the entrance to Greigston House.

This one was easy to spot. I love those!

Benchmark on gatepost to Greigston House. NO4410

SWT Bankhead Moss. NO4410

This is a delightful little reserve and one which I had visited a few weeks earlier with Margaret when we had made a study of the many lichens here. Today my agenda was very different - find somewhere to sit with lunch - I know, the bird hide. I ignored all the lichens en route and arrived at the bird hide in no time where I sat with my welcome sandwich and flask of tea and saw not a single bird. Not even the Mallard we'd seen last time.

It felt wrong, a crime even to be walking past the carpets of Cladonia lichen as I left the hide and walked the way I'd walked several weeks before when we'd revelled in the Cladonia species. I'd even seen a new species for me here. Cladonia sulphurina. One of the beauties of lichen hunting is that you can do it at any time of year, unlike botany.

Cladonia sulphurina (taken 27.9.2020)

Daylight is in short supply at this time of year, however, so I had to resist the pull to the Cladonia and promised I'd revisit them another time. For now, I left the circular route round the small reserve and headed south towards Larennie. This was the southerly entrance to the Reserve and new territory for me. I turned left towards Peat Inn and photographed my new gridsquare.

Near Peat Inn. NO4409

Peat Inn is a very small hamlet and yet it is signposted from many places. Perhaps it is of some historic significance. It was so small and insignificant that I almost forgot to take a photograph. I was out of the square before I remembered and had to walk back a matter of a few yards to photograph the phone box.

Phone Kiosk, Peat Inn. NO4509

I made my way back along the B940 (boy I was getting fed up of this road!) and turned off at Crossgates, and then again a little further along the minor road I was on.

Crossgates. NO4510

I was heading towards Nether Radernie, another ruin.

Nether Radernie. NO4510

I was less than half a mile south of where I'd walked earlier in the day, albeit in a new gridsquare. There was not a lot to see in these ruins, though I love imagining what life would have been like when these small farms were occupied. Did the inhabitants struggle to make a living? What caused them to leave? Could the voices of those who had lived there still be heard in the rustle of the trees, in the breath of the wind? I'm sure they can in a weird and wonderful way without it being in the least bit creepy. Here was laughter, love and tears; here was birth and death and marriage; here was life and here life remains in a different way, which is yet the same. Trees which once stood have germinated and given way to younger versions of themselves, stones have been reutilised  and tell their story elsewhere. Perhaps I romanticise a little, but it's the poetic voice within me and who's to say I'm wrong?

I walked south exactly equal with the westernmost gridline of square NO4610. I had now walked in that square's western, southern and northern boundaries.

Just before Lawhead, I turned eastwards for the last leg of my journey today. It wasn't even a new gridsquare, as I would shortly be rejoining the track I had walked along at the beginning of my walk.My mood was very different now, my encounter with the angry farmer having left its mark. The lighting was warm and golden though, so it was difficult to remain sombre.

Sheep in golden light. NO4609

So I retraced those steps, content with my day's walk, with all I'd seen. The little stoat I had met earlier in the day would soon be tucking itself up for the night, perhaps with a mate; the Swans and ducks would tuck their heads into their wings and float with ease on the cold waters of Cameron Reservoir and I would soon be back to my own cosy home.

A welcome sight - my car at Higham Toll carp park. NO4709

Pink-footed Geese in a rosy-hued sky.

Number of miles walked: 10.6

Number of new gridsquares: 13

Number of trigpoints: 1

Number of benchmarks: 4

Walk worth repeating: Yes, Radernie and Cameron Reservoir and possibly Bankhead Moss

Highlights: Stoat, Bullfinches, Pink-footed Geese, Smew, rivet, Bankhead Moss

A railway in the fog - East Fife Central Railway - First (and possibly the last) Stage - 29th November 2020

 I've given  up looking at the weather forecast. Please remind me if I ever attempt to plan a day based on the weather forecast. I had planned another of my elaborate adventurous walks because it was going to be bright and sunny all day according to XC Weather. Time to put project number 225 into action; never mind the fact that I'd got 224 unfinished projects behind me. I was definitely going to complete this one - walking the discontinued East Fife Central Railway, its total length, no diversions, however difficult, start to finish. Not in one go you understand. Good job I put that proviso in as it happened. I told myself it would be hard. I knew that. I knew I'd have to fight my way through brambles and nettles and cross some mundane agricultural land and worry about trespassing, but how hard could it be?

I parked at Windygates Roundabout where I started the Leven Heritage Railway walk some time ago. I was going to be walking the same route for the first mile.

East Fife Central Railway near Windygates - NO3401

I had taken nearly the same photograph almost exactly a year ago.

Last year I had broke off to the right to find Duniface trigpoint and remembered it being quite a hike to get to somewhere that looked so close on the map; I was glad I didn't have to do that today. I couldn't remember at exactly which point I had made that diversion, but knew that once I reached Maiden Castle, I was in new territory - and I always relish that feeling. As for Maiden Castle, not seen at its best on this dull and dreary day, it is traditionally associated with "Macduff, Thane of Fife," Hector Boece describing it as surrounded by seven ramparts and the same number of ditches and as the remains of the place wherefor a long time lived the descendants of the "illustrious" Macduff. (Canmore)

Maiden Castle - NO3401

I might have been in new territory, but I wasn't in a new gridsquare. I bypassed with envy the obvious track leading right, which would have curtailed my walk by several miles. I discovered when I got home, that this route would have included an 'orphan' gridsquare, which is what I shall start calling those gridsquares which  are left unwalked in the middle of a bunch of walked gridsquares.

EFCR south of Kennoway - NO3501

At times the path (and railway) were very obvious (as above), but, generally speaking, the path now became very indistinct and I fought my way through brambles and nettles to find the original railway track. "Never mind," I told myself out loud. "This is what I signed up. Ouch!" as I grabbed a nettle to hold my footing.O saw the occasional deer path through the thicket, otherwise I was blazing my own trail until I once more saw that enviable track leading to Leven. Once more I shunned it.

My determination to religiously follow the original track as closely as I knew, was abandoned when faced with a ploughed field. There was no sign of a railway through that muck, so I circumnavigated the field with as heavy a heart as the weather itself.

EFCR south of Kennoway - NO3501 (the square hedge on right is approximatel site of old railway)

At first I thought I'd come across some artefacts of the old railway as a square shaped portion of hedge had the appearance, in the mist and murk, of the remains of a brick structure. It is unlike me to be disappointed to see natural features in place of artifical ones!

I had the distinct feeling of being watched with curiosity by the residents of Kennoway as I walked the perimeter of field after field, trying to look bold and purposeful whilst feeling more and more enclosed and disappointed as the cloud sunk lower and lower.

EFCR - another field; Kennoway on the extreme right. NO 3501

With Dembert Law and its spinney on the left and a nameless knoll on my right, I finally entered a new gridsquare and walked through the valley which I felt sure the railway would have taken as, generally speaking, railways do not go up hills, even modest ones like this - the line of least resistance and all that. Which is NOT what I was doing today!

EFCR - the valley. NO3602

I was dancing through cropped fields, not in a lighthearted, spirited fashion, but in a heavy footed, trying to walk between crops crops fashion. I was approaching the road near Wester Durie, where there was at least some sort of track marked on the map. I was nearly there but a conglomeration of barbed wire fences stood between me and that destination. I couldn't see any gate breaking the stretched form of torture, so I got my trusty red foam mat out and nipped across into the final field and sloshed my way over to the road, once more conscious of being visible from the farmhouse. Would the excuse of searching for an old railway line hold water, I wondered, as I practiced saying it out loud (albeit under my breath).

Encouraged by a footpath sign to Bonnybank, I strode along past Wester Durie, looking surreptitiously for the benchmark which is plotted as being here. Without making myself even more obvious, I wasn't going to find that one. I quickly realised that I didn't want the footpath to Bonnybank, but had to climb over a gate in order to pursue the railway. How glad I am of Memory Map and may it long continue to work on my very old phone. I now have to carry two phones with me on these walks as Memory Map does not work on my new phone. It means my trouser pocket is very heavy and my trousers start falling down with the weight, but it's worth it!

Although not marked as a footpath, the path was very clear and I was following the route I had marked on the map, the route of the old railway, so I felt satisfied.

EFCR, Wester Durie. NO3602

I had been heading in a northerly direction and was keen not to miss my 'turning' right. Fortunately, this was quite obvious at a line of conifers, where the path became much more grassy and less distinct.

EFCR near Balgrummo - NO3603

I was in the SE corner of NO3603, a new gridsquare and wouldn't be in it for long before entering the next gridsquare, of which I would walk the whole length south to north. The circular feature marked on the map at Balgrummo had long been a source of curiosity and a landmark for me when perusing the map. I was keen to see what it was like in real life.

Alas! It was not to be. as I approached Balgrummo, I saw one of the only signs of human life of the whole walk - a man walking away from me. I wondered what he was doing; I could hear an engine running somewhere too. I approached cautiously and curiously and saw a small plane in a 'hangar'. I assumed he was going to take off in it, but then thought better of that idea as why would you fly in such poor visibility ? I finally concluded he was doing maintenance work on it, although I did not linger to find out or even take a photograph as the man had disappeared and I did not fancy having to explain my presence on what he might consider his private property. I did photograph what looked like an old kiln though and took a photo of the 'hangar' from the back as soon as I dared.

Old oven at Balgrummo. NO3703

The 'hangar' at Balgrummo. NO3703

I had deviated slightly from the railway route as I hadn't fancied walking across another field. I stopped at the end of Balgrummo driveway to look closely at some moss. I hadn't allowed myself to indulge in this fascination yet on the walk and I'm always glad when I do. The miniature forest of moss is such a delight to behold, particularly through a hand lens.

Bristle Moss at Balgrummo. NO3703

Things continued to look up as I spied a benchmark on Balgrummo Cottages as I walked by.

Benchmark at Balgrummo Cottages. NO3703

I was pleased to see the first evidence of the railway north of Balgrummo Cottages and near Burnside. It was perhaps part of an erstwhile railway bridge.

Old railway bridge remains at Balgrummno Cottages. NO3703

The embankment of the railway continued to be obvious so I followed it as closely as I could.

EFCR embankment near Balgrummo. NO3703

At one point I managed to scramble up to really walk along the old railway line and I felt a sense of accomplishment, particularly as I was now in a new gridsquare. This was where the railway crossed the Letham Burn.

Where the EFCR crosses the Letham Burn. NO3704

This easy walking could not last, however, and not long after my sense of exhilaration came the plummet. The railway came to an abrupt end, at least the remnants thereof did. I was faced with an impenetrable thicket and a maze of badger setts, which I tentatively stepped on, hoping they were solid enough to withstand my weight. I weighed up the situation for a few minutes. I was within sight of Burnside farm behind me, so I could not walk boldly across the fields in a bid to closely follow the railway line. I had one and a half lengths of field to walk and could choose to do so either at the north end or the south. I opted for the north end and walked gradually north-eastwards towards the B927 and the end of the railway part of my walk for the day.

It was also the end of the better part of the day weather wise; not that it had started particularly well, but now I was enveloped in fog, dense fog. Plus I faced the prospect of walking down a potentially busy road with no footpath.

B927 at Letham and my onward path. NO3704

My turn off left was at the top of the photo where the road bends to the right. I found a path through the line of the trees on the left so it was not too bad, but was glad to turn off onto a minor road.

T-junction at Letham. B3804

I gradually realised that this was the road I had driven along only the day before with dad, just after we'd seen 57 Whooper Swans in a flooded field in glorious sunshine. The sat nav had taken me a weird way to Elie, but we kept saying we didn't mind because we wouldn't have seen the Whooper Swans otherwise. There were no Whooper Swans today, but he monotony was broken slightly with the sight of a small flock of Tree Sparrows.

Tree Sparrows near Pilmuir. NO3804

Several cars passed me, despite it being a minor road. Perhaps their sat navs were taking them this way to Elie too.

Road near Pilmuir. NO3904

I looked unsuccessfully for a couple of benchmarks along this road, but whatever they used to be on had disappeared, probably a stone wall had been replaced by a fence or stone gateposts replaced by wooden ones. Sometimes the benchmark may well still be there but covered in moss which I am loathe to tear off.

At Thomsford I took a sharp right turn and left the road dad and I had travelled to Elie. I was now near Pilmuir, a rather imposing farmhouse. I passed the time of day with one of the only people I saw that day, a farmer repairing a fence. We both commented on the state of the weather and how 'it wasn't supposed to be like this'. Perhaps it helped to know someone else was feeling the same way.

Pilmuir Farmhouse. NO3903

I disappeared briefly behind a wall just beyond Pilmuir, not for the reason you might be thinking of, but in search of another elusive benchmark. At times like this benchmarks can really lift your spirits, but it wasn't there to do so. I plodded on, getting weary and fed up with the weather. It's frustrating being in the office looking out at a glorious day when you're stuck inside and then, when the weekend comes, it's like this. It does no good to dwell on such thoughts, however, so I revelled in the Yellowhammers flying constantly away from me, dipping and darting into the hedge until I approached and then flying just a few yards further on. Why don't they cotton on what's happening and fly behind me instead? I wondered, not for the first time in my life!

The sight of Lundin Tower broke the monotony of the skyscape. This was a landmark I had seen many times driving to Lundin Links and I had wondered what it was. At first I had thought it was a church, but there was none marked on the map.

Lundin Tower from NO3903

It was now beginning to look distinctly like a private house and my fears about walking past it germinated. They were forgotten by my search for a benchmark. "I'm never going to find this one," I muttered to myself as I glanced at the road ahead and could see no obvious benchmark location. Feeling rather dejected, I plodded on through the fog, wondering why I'd started this walk anyway. Once at the marked benchmark location I looked at the wall, barely visible through rambling brambles and luscious moss and there it was - my benchmark. Whoop! Whoop! What can be said about a person who finds such delight in these things, I wonder?

Benchmark near Lundin Tower. NO4003

Location of benchmark - see what I mean about overgrown! NO4003

My delight in this benchmark was twofold; I was also in a new gridsquare, and one which I would only travel through for a distance of 684 feet (I just measured it on the map). I was now approaching my turn off, the turn off for Lundin Tower and fully expected to see a big Private sign on the gate. There was none, so I opened it and walked along the track to the building.

Road to Lundin Tower - NO4002

My germinated fears of NO3903 were now fully grown as there was a car parked outside the building. I did not want to walk right in front of the building. Zooming in on my phone map I looked desperately for an alternative footpath, but there was none. The only path marked on the map was the one I had taken. "Sometimes they divert the path round the back of the house," I suddenly remembered so trod lightly in that direction. Despite my fully grown fears, I spotted another building in the next field, a ruined building which looked like a tiny church. Sure enough there was a square marked on the map, but no indication of what it was. That was something for further research upon my return.

It turned out to be an elaborate doocot.

Ruined doocot at Lundin Tower. NO3902

I was saddened to read of this being a 'building at risk' although it is obvious from seeing it that that is exactly what it is. It has deteriorated significantly from earlier photographs and how long will it be before the large crack above the 'door' finally gives way? Click here for more information on the doocot.

Despite its parlous state, I was delighted to discover this building as I am also 'collecting' Fife doocots, and this one is not marked on the modern map, although it is marked on the 1854 map. The gothic doocot is thought to date from the 18th century, whilst John Lamont writes of alterations made to Lundin (Lundy) House in his diary dating from the 17th 'Century:

(From The Diary of Mr John Lamont of Newton 1649 - 1671)

Lundin House was demolished in 1876 and the tower is now all that is left of this local landmark. Click here for more information on the Tower.

Apparently the 1st Independent Polish Parachute Brigade had a training tower near the doocot even though they were based at nearby Largo House. One Polish family have done some amazing research into their Great Grandfather's life in the 1st Independent Polish parachute Brigade. Apparently the concrete plinth where the tower once stood can still be seen. I would like to go back and find this. For more information about this, visit the excellent Swooping Eagle website.

Of course I was unaware of all this history as I tried to look inconspicuous and decided what to do. Continue round the back of the house and hope to find a path? Walk  brazenly past the front of the house to find the path? Retrace my steps and hope to hop over the barbed wire fence somwhere?

I went for the third option and soon found myself in Lundin Wood, where I guessed I was not supposed to be, though there were no private signs.

Lundin Wood. NO3902

Relieved to have made it thus far, I waited till I was out of sight before looking for somewhere to eat lunch. I had spied a pond marked on the map, so decided to head for there and hope to find a suitable place to sit down. A boulder made the ideal option, but I did not sit for long as it was too damp and cold. I continued my journey eastwards and soon emerged at Blacketyside Caravan Park. I guessed this was where the fruit pickers stayed during the summer and wondered whether there had been any this year with the pandemic going on.

Caravans at Blacketyside Farm. NO3802

It felt a little eerie walking through the deserted caravan site. Most caravans had bike parts in various states of decay parked outside them and the whole scene was rather poignant, particularly in the monochrome mist. I imagined a very different and bustling scene in the summer. It took a while to walk through the caravan site and the farm, but I eventually walked through a gate which warned nobody to touch it as it was 'covered in grease'. Then I was by Blacketyside House. I had had lunch at the farm shop once and knew they weren't open on Sundays and I respected that decision. Their sign apologising for not being open, quotes Exodus and the Ten Commandments which exhort us to keep the Sabbath holy.

Sign for Blacketyside House. NO3802

Now I was back at the B927 which I'd crossed earlier. I had been tempted then to just walk south down the road and miss out the eastern half of the walk. Despite the weather I was glad I had not done that. I just love exploring new territory and look at all the information I have gleaned from today's walk!

I was glad to see a footpath sign directly opposite the Blacketyside Farm entrance. That's always reassuring to walkers. I paused at the bridge over Scoonie Burn to look for a benchmark, even though some loud music from the nearby house told me someone was close by and I did catch sight of a figure working in his garden. I pretended I'd not seen him as I gazed intently at the bridge hoping a cut mark or rivet would jump out at me, or, even better that a Kingfisher would squeal its electric blue way by.

The former happened. Not as good as the Kingfisher, but I was delighted nonetheless, especially as it was a rivet - my favourite sort of benchmark.

Bridge over Scoonie Burn and source of loud music. NO3802

Rivet on bridge over Scoonie Burn. NO3802

Scoonie Burn. NO3802

Lest I was starting to feel a little zestless, a rainbow sign reminded me that things were not that bad.

Stay Positive at Coldstream. NO3302

The path is diverted at Coldstream - this time you do go round the back of the farm buildings to avoid walking past the house.Then I was at Tullylaw Wood and the next gridsquare.

Tullylaw Wood. NO3702

I continued on this road past Durie House, near where I met only the second person of the day, a man on a quad bike repairing fences I think. We passed the time of day and commented on the weather. I nearly didn't bother with a photo of Durie House; there seemed little point. I already had a photograph for the gridsquare; but then again I wasn't sure I'd be doing this walk again and this might be my only chance.

Durie House. NO3702

I was nearing the northern outskirts of Leven and grew anxious when the distinct path I'd been following suddenly petered out and I couldn't see a way out of the field. It ended up being another case of climbing fences and finding myself on the road between Kennoway and Leven. I could see road works ahead of me and a diversion. There was little opportunity for an interesting photo in NO3701 - by which I mean, there was no opportunity, hence my boring photo.

Montfleurie Housing Estate. NO3701

Having failed to find another benchmark, I continued southwards to rejoin my steps of almost a year ago when I had walked along this railway in the opposite direction. I didn't remember seeing the train depot on that occasion though. There were workmen on the railway tracks, confirming the rumour that the railway was soon to reopen. There was more evidence of this later on as trees and bushes had been cleared during this last section of my walk.

Train depot, Leven Heritage Railway. NO3700

I wasn't the only one walking along the old railway track today. Two young boys were pushing their bikes just a little way in front of me. I eventually overtook them, suddenly very tired, weary and eager to get home.

Leven Heritage Railway. NO3600

At last I was at the railway tunnel I'd seen at the beginning of my walk. I made rather a pathetic attempt at searching for the benchmark - with no luck. Then I returned to my car, the last one in the car park.

Tunnel under A915. NO3500

Number of miles walked: 12.3 miles

Number of new gridsquares:12

Number of doocots: 1

Number of benchmarks: 3

Walk worth repeating: No, but I would like to see the concrete plinth of the former parachute training tower and look at the doocot again in nicer weather.

Highights: doocot, Lundin tower, bridge rivet