Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Locher Dam
Despite the hint of a hangover I was first up with Laura. My Dad joined us soon as he suffers from the same sleeping problems I do (we discussed the similarities last night), and once showered and dressed I told Laura I would be taking her to see the dam where I spent a lot of time as a child.
Gail and mother decided to go shopping for the day and headed off to Braehead with cash in hand. I'm glad Gail and my Mum are bonding so well - it takes the heat off me and means I don't get dragged shopping.
Despite the strong wind and horizontal rain, Laura took my hand and we walked through several fields of grass, flooded marshland, a golf course and miles of bracken to reach Locher Dam.
It must have been 15 years since I was last at the dam, and as a child I caught my second fish here (first on my own); a small trout that was only edible to the neighbour’s cat, and also spent many days playing with my friends.
It holds many memories along it’s banks, from the main tributary flowing into it off the hills to the weir the directs the water into a smaller reservoir for use in the local leather factory.
We used to play dare games across the fall but with a new wall around the edge it would be hard to get to it now. The old metal extension path leading into the centre of the dam still exists but would collapse under my weight after years of rusting.
There were years when the dam suffered too. In 1979 the country had a heat wave and it dried up revealing dead fish and a dry, cracked bed you could walk into the centre across. The weir stopped flowing that year and when the rain came, the dam had to be restocked with trout.
I remember the story of a seven year old who fell in and drowned (whether that was true or not I don’t know) and I remember when we had a fierce winter which froze the whole surface completely; that must have been about 20 years ago now because Lindsay fell through the ice as a toddler and my Dad dragged her home at breakneck speed to keep her blood from freezing. My Dad's reaction was hilarious at the time, but then I was only 10.
Here are some pictures we took. For some reason there is a gap in the html.
Click a picture to enlarge
By the time we got back home we were soaked through and caked in mud from the fields. A change of clothes later and we settled to down to wait for dinner – duly supplied by Mother later on after her shopping trip with Gail.
To kill the time we played games and watched TV; Laurel and Hardy were on as was Star Wars which all but enforced the feelings of childhood in my mind.
My mother planned tonights meal as another wee Christmas dinner for the family being together. Salmon for starter followed by a roast with all the trimmings and a choice of dessert. My Dad never made his fanous trifle because he thought my sisters complaint about it applied to the rest - but it didn't and I was disappointed.
Lots more drink and laughs flowed and the last of the wine finished off as well as a healthy measure of my Dad’s W&M. Good man!
Gail and mother decided to go shopping for the day and headed off to Braehead with cash in hand. I'm glad Gail and my Mum are bonding so well - it takes the heat off me and means I don't get dragged shopping.
Despite the strong wind and horizontal rain, Laura took my hand and we walked through several fields of grass, flooded marshland, a golf course and miles of bracken to reach Locher Dam.
It must have been 15 years since I was last at the dam, and as a child I caught my second fish here (first on my own); a small trout that was only edible to the neighbour’s cat, and also spent many days playing with my friends.
It holds many memories along it’s banks, from the main tributary flowing into it off the hills to the weir the directs the water into a smaller reservoir for use in the local leather factory.
We used to play dare games across the fall but with a new wall around the edge it would be hard to get to it now. The old metal extension path leading into the centre of the dam still exists but would collapse under my weight after years of rusting.
There were years when the dam suffered too. In 1979 the country had a heat wave and it dried up revealing dead fish and a dry, cracked bed you could walk into the centre across. The weir stopped flowing that year and when the rain came, the dam had to be restocked with trout.
I remember the story of a seven year old who fell in and drowned (whether that was true or not I don’t know) and I remember when we had a fierce winter which froze the whole surface completely; that must have been about 20 years ago now because Lindsay fell through the ice as a toddler and my Dad dragged her home at breakneck speed to keep her blood from freezing. My Dad's reaction was hilarious at the time, but then I was only 10.
Here are some pictures we took. For some reason there is a gap in the html.
Click a picture to enlarge
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By the time we got back home we were soaked through and caked in mud from the fields. A change of clothes later and we settled to down to wait for dinner – duly supplied by Mother later on after her shopping trip with Gail.
To kill the time we played games and watched TV; Laurel and Hardy were on as was Star Wars which all but enforced the feelings of childhood in my mind.
My mother planned tonights meal as another wee Christmas dinner for the family being together. Salmon for starter followed by a roast with all the trimmings and a choice of dessert. My Dad never made his fanous trifle because he thought my sisters complaint about it applied to the rest - but it didn't and I was disappointed.
Lots more drink and laughs flowed and the last of the wine finished off as well as a healthy measure of my Dad’s W&M. Good man!
Colin 2:18 pm