ORRIN/FAIRBURN

It was a small and, allegedly, select band that gathered together to walk at Orrin Falls. Of course, most of them would not have been anywhere near this place if they had the Gaelic. Orrin translates as Oirrinn, which means Sacrifice!

Somewhat bizarrely, the River Orrin was the name of an aeroplane, a Boeing 737 belonging to British Airtours. It was the plane involved in the horrific Manchester airport runway fire in which 55 passengers lost their lives in 1985.

Here they are, blissful in their ignorance of all of this.

They were soon off and walking along parallel to the River Orrin and heading west. Before long, they decided to consult an oracle, or at least some poo. This may well be a first for a Dinosaur blog!

For those with an interest in such things here is a close up. Unfortunately, none of the walkers turned the poo over, so that I might identify the species of dung beetle involved - a lesson for the future, take gloves if necessary!

In any event there are over 100 dung beetles in the UK and differentiation between them can be difficult! It may not even be a dung beetle, but just some poor unfortunate who was shat upon from a great height, and we all know what that feels like. Indeed, as I right this, poor Old Boris will know exactly what it feels like!

Dung beetles are famous for pushing dung up hills. The walkers try to emulate this Sisyphean task. Maureen will, of course, remember who Sisyphus is and why he never stopped pushing.

These are all the remains of a Victorian Hydro scheme which was installed in 1898 to provide electric light for Fairburn House, just after the grand building was completed. 

The policies of Fairburn House were planted up by John Stirling of Fairburn in the 1880's and many of these trees are now among the largest of their species in the country. Susan decided to give this Sequoia a poke as if it were another bit of dung!

The hydro scheme for the house was put in place precisely because there was ample flow and head in the River Orrin. Ironically, the scheme was abandoned in 1961, when the Orrin Dam started to control water flows further up the river. So, the hydro scheme was rendered ineffective by another hydro scheme. Even more oddly, the scheme was revived in the 1980's (100 years later) and, once again, provides electricity for Fairburn House. 

Water , water, everywhere.

More equipment associated with the hydro scheme

See how happy they are with bits of wood and metal!

The dam, which is about 50 metres and 3.5 metres at the highest point, is made of concrete and has a fish pass at the north end. This was damaged in a flood in 2015.

Maureen helpfully points out the damage.

Nobody believes she knows what she is talking about.

This almost looks like the leaves are bursting forth on the trees at Springtime, but, of course, they're actually about to fall off!

A bridge photo.

My guess is that this is a photo from the same bridge, probably looking west.

Looking the other way from the other side of the bridge.

The sun has come out and there is a touch of the sylvan glade about the walk now.

Here is the sylvan glade. Sylva is the Latin for woods or forests and comes from the Roman god of the woods Sylvanus, which has, of course, the potential to bring us full circle to poo!

Some people have cataracts, but these are not them. In fact these are not really cataracts at all. Cataracts are distinguished from other waterfalls or river features by the volume of water that they carry. Cataracts are only found on very large rivers like the Nile.

The word derives from the Latin cataracta, which means waterfall or floodgate and also portcullis. It is the portcullis meaning that is thought to give the name to cataracts of the eye. Isn't that fascinating?

Richie is pointing out the difference in cataracts to his enthralled audience.

He and Maureen had tried to point interesting stuff out to the other walkers, who heaped so much laughter and abuse upon them that they had to hide behind this wall. Either that, or it is a lot lower on their side than it is on this.

 This is the west sluice of the old hydro scheme and it has an overhead hoist for opening and closing the water gate. 

A picturesque view of the falls. 

These arrangements of branches on conifers are called whorls and they can be used to estimate the age of the tree. They grow at roughly the same height around the tree and each ring of whorls represents one year. You have to add on a bit for germination and the seedling stage - usually 2 to 4 years. This only really works for young trees, because you cannot see easily into the upper reaches of older and bigger trees. So I have no idea how old this tree is and I don't even know what kind of tree it is, although it is a conifer.

Here is Maureen, pointing out whorls to Liz.

Richie remembers the abuse from the last time he helpfully pointed out anything and studiously ignores everything round about him.

Where's Jason when you need him?

This must surely be the Golden Fleece hanging in the grove of Ares.

The fleece was, as Maureen will know, guarded by a dragon at the bottom of the tree. I cannot possibly say which of these might be that dragon or which might be the temptress, Eve at the apple tree.

The walkers have deviated from the riverside walk to visit Fairburn Tower, which is an outstanding example of a fortified tower house. It dates from 1545 and was originally built for Murdo MacKenzie a favourite of James V and often described as a graceful youth. That may or may not be a euphemism for something else, but he was appointed as one of the King's Gentlemen of the Bedchamber. I don't know what they did.

Murdo's descendants prospered and added to the original tower. However, they backed the loser in the first Jacobite uprising of 1715 and were disgraced until pardoned in 1724.

They were a bit more cautious when Bonnie Prince Charlie invaded and declined to join the government army as they were but poor farmers and not soldiers.

It wouldn't be this part of the world without some sort of prophecy from the Brahan Seer. He predicted that the Mackenzies would lose all their possessions and the castle would become uninhabited and, furthermore, that a cow would give birth in the upper floors of the tower.

The MacKenzies left the tower by the 1850's and a the tower was used to store hay and a cow did, indeed, give birth in the garret.

Spooky, or what?

The tower is now in a ruinous condition, but there are hopes of salvaging the building and converting it to tourist accommodation. It will be pretty draughty if they can't close more than the funding gap. I think we might see Richie and Agnes living in their house before this happens.

Leaving the tower behind, the walkers head back to the cars.

By now Maureen is wholly bound up in the mythology of the river. You will recall the Gaelic meaning of the Orrin as sacrifice or offering. Rather than slaughter a bullock or the likes, Maureen casts some Hawkweed to the dark and silent river gods.

See, dark and silent they remain. Even their earlier poking around in the poo oracle could not awaken the river gods.

The end of the walk, which comes out to the public road next to this rather charming, if a little ostentatious, gate lodge, which originally served Fairburn House. It was probably built between 1880 and 1890.

Apart from the poo incident and the shameless abuse of Maureen and Richie for pointing out interesting stuff, it seems to have been a very interesting and pleasant walk. Well done to Richie and Agnes for organising it and to Robin for providing the photos.