Before 1932  the wooden structure of the Offers Bridge over the Forth adjacent  to the station and next to McLarens' sawmill (now Crambs) was the only crossing point between Stirling and the Brig' o'Frew, near Kippen Station saving travellers a 15 mile journey into Stirling and back or 12 miles if you went via the Coldoch road.

As the years went by the bridge grew older and creakier, perhaps suffering from lack of maintenance.  One story tells of how a carter brought a load of timber over the bridge to the sawmill whereupon the  owner, Archie McLaren (my uncle) commented, "Ye were nae feart bringin' it ower that brig." The hapless carter took a closer look at the structure and decided against taking the empty vehicle back over, thus giving himself an additional 15 miles round trip back home!

Alex. Paton in Stark Street gave me these two photographs showing a very long tree trunk being manoeuvred from the Gargunnock Station goods yard into the sawmill next door.  They had a job getting it out and had to remove a gatepost in the process.  All of this was done without a crane and with only two bogies, a horse and manpower. 

The photographs were interesting but they raised the question, why?  Why did they want to keep it that length?  What use did they have for such long planks?  One day I was looking at other photographs to go with this poem and realised that the answer had probably been in front of me all the time.  The photograph of the old bridge shows that long battens of timber, obviously not part of the original design, have been added to reinforce it in its twilight years.  Could that be why they needed to keep the tree its original length.

Bob Fraser, now retired was the county and Region's Chief bridge Engineer and he supplied me with the following information..  In 1932 the wooden bridge was replaced by a reinforced concrete structure.  Designed by L.G. Mouchell and Partners it was built by contractors McKean and Renwick at a cost of £7,200 including engineer's fees and land charges. 

Originally designed as a three-span continuously reinforced concrete superstructure of the beam and slab type, it was changed to one of three simply supported spans after foundation difficulties were encountered during construction.  The reinforced concrete piers and abutments are supported by 14" square piles driven to a depth of 50 ft.

It took about 14 months to build and the Clerk of Works was a Mr J. McConnachie of Scotstoun who was paid £6-10s-0d per week including travelling and subsistence allowances!  Later it did settle slightly at the South end and a crack appeared in the parapet walls.  To monitor further settlement a short piece of metal was cemented into the stonework of the parapet wall, just bridging the gap, so that further movement would be visible. This was regularly checked for a period thereafter but, after a further couple of millimetres of movement, it has remained stable for the last 50 years or so. 

The diver, shown here working on the pier foundations, was Willie Crawford..  It is said that he recovered one or two fresh water pearls from here.  During the work Willie lodged at Duke Street, Gargunnock with Mrs McPhate, (the mother of Andrew McPhate who now lives at 22 Stark Street).  Duke Street is now the access to the "new" cemetery at the back of the Rest Garden, the houses there, having been empty and ruinous for twenty years or more, were demolished in the early sixties.

As an apprentice roads engineer in the early sixties, I was once tasked with producing fresh drawings for the bridge, the originals having been lost.  That brought me two days of freedom from the office whilst on-site measuring and surveying the structure.
This poem neatly captures local feelings of relief when the bridge was finally completed, but human nature being as it is, there just had to be  something else to complain about. 

THE NEW BRIG
(by The Watchman - March 1932)

It's feenished noo, the new brig's up, a fine imposing structure,
Complete wi' sandstone parapets it looks a bonnie picture.
A hale twal' month an' mair has passed since first the work began,
An' tho' its ta'en a gey lang time the job's been grandly done.
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Wi' reinforced cement it's built, the best o' modern styles,
This bridge should staun' for mony a day on Begbie's modern piles.
They had some bother at the start before they got a foun',
'Till the piles were a' extended and firmly hammered doon.

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The fermers on the ither side had muckle cause tae grieve,
There's Willie frae the Offers and Jack frae Arneive,
For a' this time they couldnae get a cairt ower wi' a sack,
An' everything they took across wis cairried on their back
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Up the Kirk Lane tae the Drip Road it wis a lang wey roun',
But noo they'll a' get ower the brig when they gang tae the toon,
An' Maxwell can get his baler ower, an' Rutherford his mill,
An' Jamie and Sandy wi' their caur, and Kenny an' Tam Hill
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Its been a great attraction each Sunday afternoon,
For a' the lads and lassies cam' tae see hoo much was dune,
An' auld men tae, cam reg'lar tae smoke and hae a crack
And prophesy hoo many months the job wis gaun tae tak'
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It's feenished no, an' when ye cross ye'll find it's safe an' sound,
An' we'll a' be prood o' oor new brig 'tho it cost ten thoosand poond.
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I've just anither word tae sae aboot the road on the ither side,
It's faur too nerra nooadays, they'll hae tae mak' it wide.
So motorists an' hikers then will seek this road sae trig,
When they gang North across the Forth, they'll praise this grand new brig.

(Note  - the "Maxwell" family have farmed on the Kirk Lane for many years and Rutherford was "Pete" Rutherford who operated a mobile mill in various farms around the district during harvest time.  The family stayed in Meiklewood Cottage and his daughter Marion McDougal now lives in McNeil Crescent.)

Yes Gargunnock had a railway station at one time, situated at the point where the B8075 Kirk Lane Road joins the A811 Dumbarton Road a few hundred metres east of Dasherhead Farm.  The old Forth and Clyde line was built in the mid 19th century as part of a scheme to link the coal fields of Fife with the Clyde.

Only one picture of it seems to have survived but I live in hope of finding more.  I well remember it.  Indeed as a boy at primary school in the early fifties I remember looking across the carse from the school playing field and seeing a goods train slowly traversing the carse.  Every few hundred yards there was a level crossing with gates and a gate-house where farm road crossed so progress was inevitably slow.   Passenger trains ceased to run in the 1930s as buses became more convenient and the line was closed by Dr Beeching in the 1960s.  The buildings, signal box and platforms survived until the early 1970s when a junction improvement caused there demise.  If you know where to look, the north platform made of wooden-sleepers still survives...just... in the undergrowth.

Inevitably there's a poem about almost everything in Gargunnock and this one was written in the 19th century by a man who was brought up in one of the railway gate-houses, Leckieburn Cottage, just to the west of the village.

The name o' Gargunnock still gives me a thrill.
I left it lang syne, but I dream of it still.
When I think o' "my ain folk" ma he'rt fills wi' pride,
There's nae place tae me like the auld Forth and Clyde.

In my dreams I can picture that auld railway line.
Where as laddies we played in days o' lang syne.
I can see the wee Linn, where we dookit in turn.
An' guddled for troot in the auld Leckie Burn.

I see Leckieburn cottage doon by yon wee brig,
Just a wee but 'n ben, but sae cosy and trig.
I can see my dear Mother whae kept us frae harm,
At the auld level crossing, near Birkenwood Farm.

In that wee but an' ben was a family of twelve.
Nine sturdy laddies, and three bonnie girls.
That's why we'd to leave oor auld hame at the brig,
The hoose was too wee and the family ower big.

So we left Leckie Burn, for Piperland Farm,
What a change for us boys, it was just like a charm.
We played all sorts of games there, or so it would seem.
Wi' twa ither boys, we'd a full fitba' team!

We each went in turn to the Gargunnock Schule,
Under Dominie Jamieson, I can see him there still.
He could wield the big cane, aye, and swing the auld strap.
Between you an' me folks, it's time they were back.

Dear Auld Gargunnock still gives me a thrill,
Tho' I left it lang syne, I dream o' it still.
When I think o' "my ain folk" my hert fills wi' pride.
There's nae place tae me like the Auld Forth and Clyde.

Mr Hall Robertson