Visiting An Old Acquaintance.

 

        Yesterday, Tuesday, I decided to take the bike round, what used to be a favourite area of mine for the bike and hill walking, Callander. It was another beautiful day, what a pleasure cycling in a short sleeved shirt, a rare occurrence in Scotland. One summer, back in the days when I called myself a cyclist, I done the same run every Sunday for the entire season. It was a beautiful run, starting at my front door in the north of Glasgow, I would head for Lennoxtown, then up the Crow Road over the Campsies to Fintry. From there you climb past what cyclist used to call "th' tap o'th wurld" (The top of the world), though it wasn't, for you are still climbing up to Kippen. From there you get a magnificent run downhill, then a few miles of flat road over what I believe is part of Flanders Moss. This flat leads to another climb up to Thornhill, from there you start another set of undulating hills, but it is ever upwards. Eventually you reach the top and then its flying down all the way to a lovely flat stretch as you head into Callander. Usually it was something to eat in Pipps Tearoom in Ancaster Square, before heading home via a different route.

         Homeward bound would be from Callander over the Breas of Greenock, nowhere near Greenock, it is quite a climb, and then a run down past the Lake of Menteith, to the Aberfoyle road (one year when I was a young man the Lake froze over for months, and at the weekends we would skate on it, skating out to the island). From there it would be Ward Toll, Ballat Toll, Glengoyne, famed for its whisky as much as its beauty, and then the climb out of the Blane Valley to Strathblane. It was now the home stretch via Lennoxtown and a shower and a bite to eat at home. 

 Ancaster Square Callander.

Main Street Callander.

 

       On yesterday's shorter run I visited Callander, and then followed the road towards Strathyre, before retracing my route and then turning off to go along the shore of Loch Venachar, stopping at the tearoom beautifully situated on the shore of the loch. Sitting and sipping tea looking out over the loch feeling at peace with the world, (not a frequent experience) before heading back to Callander.

 Looking across Loch Venachar from lochside tearoom.

  

 Looking up Loch Venachar towards Ben Lomond.

    Sadly they are now talking about the weather changing, I suppose we should expect that, after all, this is Scotland, ever changing weather is what we have. 

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Two In A Row.

        What a glorious weekend, difficult to believe, several days with glorious sunshine, and this is Scotland. We have to grab it when it happens. So Saturday saw my first run up the Loch this season, (Loch Lomond), the sad thing about a beautiful sunny weekend in Scotland, everybody else also grabs it. So everybody and their grandmother, jumped into their cars and also headed up the Loch. Massive tailbacks and slow moving monster queues, then endless convoys of speeding vehicles doing 60-70mph and in some case, more. Never the less, it was a great run, up through Tarbet, round to Arrochar and stopped at the head of Loch Long. Loch Long is an sea loch, the other end opens out to the Firth of Clyde, so it is tidal and you get the salt air smell as you pass. The sad bit about it that taints its beautiful vista, it was for years a torpedo testing range. These photos were taken at low tide, so you see the long flat beach covered in different colours of seaweed.

       In this other photo you can just see the craggy Cobbler showing is jagged top. A favourite for climbers and walkers alike. In my younger days I spent many an afternoon admiring the magnificent view from the top. Most people start the ascent from the side of Loch Long but you can start at the other side from a small car park at the start of the "Rest-and-be-thankful". having done it both ways, I can vouch for it being equally beautiful from either point.

       Being an old wrinkly, I no longer do two runs on two consecutive days, I usually like a wee break in between.  However, Sunday being as beautiful a day as Saturday, I decided to head up my familiar territory, the Campsie area. Fate was not kind to me, arriving at the Clachan of Campsie tearoom, I was greeted with a notice which read, "Closed until May 15th." so no soup. My partner Stasia arrived at the tearoom by a different route, both eager for that plate of soup we decide to go back the way to Lennoxtown, to the café Barga, only to be greeted by the words, "we're shut". Only in Scotland would a café close its doors in early afternoon on a sunny weekend. So it was home without the obligatory plate of soup. Never the less, a couple of great days.

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Has Summer Arrived???

        Well, well, whatever happened to our weather, blue skies and 16 degrees, pity about the 16mph wind. The sun made me think of Aberfoyle, so that's where I headed, it is an easier ride home that it is on the outward journey, more long incline drags, as you gain height to about Ward Toll, then you get some nice runs down towards Aberfoyle. So naturally that 16mph wind was in my face on the run out, but gave me a wee push back home on the easier stretch. Still a wonderful afternoon. The sun brought out all manner of cyclists in all shapes and sizes of bikes, but the Lycra clad brigade in their light weight bikes, out numbered the rest. I now accept that they will pass me at regular intervals, usually with a "Hi" as they with their young legs and lungs zip along the road.
       Last year after a run that was meant to end in Aberfolye, but was foiled, I posted about the pipes that run from Loch Katrine to supply Glasgow with its fresh water, and how the road at Ballot Toll  was closed, as where the pipes cross the road at that point, there seemed to be problem, as it was all supported by steel columns across the road. Well it seems that it is still a problem, though the road is open in a controlled single line traffic arrangement, with height restrictions on vehicles, the pipes still look in a precarious condition. Perhaps the fresh water supply to a major city is not a priority.

        Liz MacGregor's is a pleasant watering hole when visiting Aberfoyle. Good soup, nice cakes and not expensive.

        The might River Forth that ends up entering the North Sea on the east coast at Edinburgh, starts its life in these parts. Here it is, just a little river, as it winds its way through Aberfolye. 

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Cold, Wind, Rain And £2 Down.

 

       Today, Saturday, was not my type of cycling day, but cabin fever is a dreadful affliction. So, despite the forecast of 16mph cold wind and max. 10 degrees, I set off on my usual route. As I approached Auchenreoch I could see areas of sky that had white clouds, and the odd blue area, but not my patch, I felt a bit hard done by, above my head was low dark foreboding clouds, and that 16mph wind was cold, then to really upset me there started a smirl of light rain. So I cut it short, called it a day, and headed for Milton of Campsie, birth place of Thomas Muir. There to partake in the hospitality of their local café, though I must add, for the same soup, cake and coffee, it was £2 dearer than the Clachan of Campsie tearoom. Should have cycled the extra six or seven miles and saved a couple of quid, but alas, too late, I had ordered and eaten. 

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9 Degrees, But Still Wonderful.

      Yesterday, 26th. saw my first run out on the bike since returning from Athens, unfortunately I came back from Athens with a lousy cough, so the bike runs were postponed. My first run was the familiar territory of the Campsie area, it was really a bit too cold for my creaking bronchial system, 9 degrees, but I loved it, and had a wonderful run, great to feel the pedals turning again. 

       Wheelcraft is a well known bike shop in Clachan of Campsie, frequented by cyclist from a wide area. Big Al, who runs the place is credited with being the best wheel builder in Scotland, if not the UK. The racing fraternity, and other cyclists, pop in to see him as he always has a pot of coffee standing by for all and sundry, while he usually sits with a wheel spinning in front of him. The pater is always about how long a distance they have covered or how fast they covered it.

      Along the road a bit from Big Al's there is what used to be part of a working farm, the farm is still there, but part of it has become an overpriced bundle of bricks in front of which people park rather expensive cars.

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Ah, That Distant Memory, The Sun, Has Returned.

 

         Well it happened, I thought it never would, but it did, the clouds rolled away, the sun came out, and the temperature shot up. Suddenly that horrible dull very cold and windy weather that seem to have gone on for ever, had gone. It brought cyclists out in their all their gleaming Lycra and fancy bikes. I enthusiastically joined them. The start of my cycling season always starts around familiar territory, the Campsie Hills, so it was up round Clachan of Campsie, beautiful. Sadly the good weather also brings out the motorists, so the roads were very busy, but you grow to expect that now-a-days. Here's hoping this is the start of a glorious long hot summer, but I say that every year and it doesn't always materialise, but you never know. 

      As a young man I spent years hill walking, and I would never have hesitated to drink for any stream as we trudged our way along. Now however, I would never dream of drinking from any stream, too much pollutants, pesticides, fertilisers etc., have seeped into our rivers and streams, we have taken that pleasure away from our kids. What else will we steal from them?

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The Last Of The Snow.

        Though in my book it is still too cold, I have managed out on the bike three times this month. The first two occasions were just short non-stop wee circuits, just to remind the legs what they are supposed to do, no stopping for the camera. The third, yesterday, Thursday, 23rd was meant to be the same, but I couldn't help stopping to capture the last of the snow on the Campsie Hills, before nature got out her paint brush and covered everything in various shades of green, splattered with dashes of vibrant colour. Well I hope it is the last of the snow, until next winter, give me warmth. Each of the three runs have had one feature in common, 15/16 mph extremely cold wind. Never the less thoroughly enjoyable, it always feels great when I dust the bike down, after the winter months and start trundling my way merrily around our lovely countryside.

 

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An Artists Palette.

 The main street in Killearn.

        I can't believe it, since the clock went back I have been out on the bike twice, it has been many, many years since that happened. Sunday's run was great, and yesterday, Wednesday, I decide to steal another day on the bike. It was cold, sunny intervals and a light wind, what more could I ask. However it was too cold for me, as my wee bronchial tubes started to complain, and I didn't have any answers, so I just continued to grind on my merry way. 

The top of the climb from the Aberfoyle/Drymen/Killearn roundabout.

        I ended up in Killearn, and enjoyed a lovely plate of thick mushroom soup. Killearn is a small village, where if you look hard enough, you will find a house under half  £1 million. It is at the top of a hill, so no matter how you approach it you have a fair climb. From Glasgow as you pass Glengoyne, the first right takes you up a long drag, or go further on to the Aberfoyle/Drymen/Killearn roundabout, my preferred route, you face an equally long drag up to the village. Come at it from the Stirling/Erskine Bridge road and you climb up through Balfron. There is always the route through Lennoxtown, climb the beast that is the Crow Road over the Campsies, through Fintry and join the tail end of the Balfron-Killearn climb. In spite of this, no matter how you approach it, it is a beautiful run, especially at this time of year. The unbelievable array of colours straight from an artists palette, all those rusts, golds, browns, reds, inter-spaced with the evergreens, is something to behold.

Decision time, right to Fintry, Left to Balfron?

        However, no matter how beautiful, I think I will have to admit defeat and lay the bike aside until the turn of the year. 

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Scotland's Coat Of Many Colours.

 

       Well the clock went back an hour last night, that is usually my sad event of putting the bike away until the turn of the year again. However, today was such a beautiful day, virtually no wind and plenty of sunshine, so I decided to to grasp the moment and head out. It was my usual haunt, taking in Lenzie, Kirkitilloch, Milton of Campsie, with stops for wee photos. A short run, I'm no longer a morning person, and I wanted to be off the road before dusk, felt great. Now the bike will get a lick of grease and oil and lie there until the new year, when it will be given a wee service, ready to start delivering its usual pleasures.

 Lenzie High street.

Kirkintilloch High Street, being pedestrianised, YEEHA.

Milton of Campsie High Street.

       I should add, that High Street in Scots, has nothing to do with height, it merely means Main Street.

      Scotland drops its mantle of lush green and dons its coat of many colours.

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When Autumn Leaves Start To Fall.

       Back after my wee break across the channel, and with a day like today, blue sky, bright sun and wind forecast as 1-3 mph increasing to 5mph later in the afternoon, who could resist throwing their leg over the bike and heading out. Though getting a bit on the cold side for me, I decided to grab what I can before the clock goes back. That's usually my signal to put the bike away until the start of next year. However, I'll try to steal any days that come along like today. Today it was my home territory, the Campsie area, ever beautiful, even more so now that the autumn tints of copper, brown and gold are creeping in through the lush green. Ah, the beauty of this enchanted place.

Autumn tints creeping into the Campsie area.

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Martyrs' Stone.

       Managed out four times this week on the bike, though getting a bit cold. I hope I didn't give the impression that the last run I done up the Loch, was from Arrochar to Tarbet, 4+ miles? I come from the other direction, from beyond Balloch to Tarbet and then round to Arrochar, before turning back to Tarbet for that plate of sustenance.

      Last Wednesday it was a wee dash round my home territory, a non stop 30 mile circuit circling round Lenzie, Kirkintilloch, Milton of Campsie, Torrance zigzagging this way and that until I got my 30 miles. No stops, so no photos. Thursday it was the same territory, but cut it short to 25 miles, again no stops, no photos. 

       Monday I decided to go up the Aberfoyle road, on  reaching the Aberfoyle/Killearn/Drymen round-about, I was met with cones across the road stating road closed, and a notice saying diversion via Drymen. No intentions of going to Drymen, I decided that I would go through the cones, and if it was road works, I could just cycle/walk through and then carry on to Aberfoyle. 

     What a wonderful experience, mile after mile with no traffic. I started to imagine that this is what it will be like when the real "oil crisis" hits us, no noise of roaring cars, no thundering lorries, roads for bikes. I began to wonder what the cones were there for, when about 400 yards from Ballott Toll, it became obvious. There is an aqueduct that crosses the road at that point, carrying the lovely clear waters of Loch Katrine to the people of Glasgow and surrounding districts to flow into their homes for drinking, among other purposes. It was propped up with about twelve steel columns across the road, tall steel fencing across the road with heavy chains and a notice, DANGER, no entry. It looks as if the vital water supply to Glasgow is about to fall down, disaster for Glasgow should that ever happen. I admitted defeat, turned the bike and headed back along the wonderful stretch of traffic-less road.

        Today, Wednesday, it was a repeat of last Thursday's run, though I did stop at one point for a couple of photos. It was the Martyrs' Stone on the Kirkintilloch/Kilsyth road, a monument to mark two Covenanters who were put to death for their faith. I just feel that I would have respected them more if their passion had been for humanity, rather than for their faith. I have photographed this stone before, but I thought it was worth another shot. It must be the least visited monument in this part of Scotland, as it is situated at the side of a rather narrow road with no footpath or parking and a steady stream of fast traffic.

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The Loch Again.

At Tarbet, with wee balaclava.

         What a day Sunday was, a beautiful run up the Loch, (Loch Lomond) and back down. It was my perfect cycling day, bright sun, virtually no wind, 4/5 mph. and not too cold or too warm around 14/15 degrees. Though there was a bit of a chill factor, hence the wee black balaclava, though maybe it is just my age. Surprising, considering the day, I didn't, encounter many cyclists on the road, but loads of fast cars and extremely fast motorbikes. The little tearoom at Tarbet was the refuelling station, they always do a good thick soup shared this time with my partner, Stasia. She cycled a short run from Inverbeg to Tarbet and back. Nice to have a bit of company, I usually do it all on my own. 

Entering Tarbet from Arrachar.

And of course the Ben, sticking its head up.

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