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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Cook And Drive.

 Duck Bay, Loch Lomond, looking towards Ben Lomond.

        As I no longer do the mileage on the bike that I used to, I find that it limits the places I can visit. Gone are the days when I would step out the gate at my front door, throw my leg over the bike and head for Tyndrum, Loch Kathrine, Dunoon, Arrachar, Callander, Inversnaid, Kinloch Ard, Strathyre, Lake of Menteith, Loch Venachar, etc. and a variety of routes in between. Now I find that I pedal around the Campsie Hills area, the Aberfoyle Road and of course the Loch. Not that there is anything wrong with any of these places, all a beauty in their own right.

The pier at Luss on Loch Lomond.

      So Saturday saw me once more, along the Bonnie Bonnie Banks of Loch Lomond. On the way back down the Loch, I stopped at the picturesque village of Luss, on the shore of the Loch. Many years ago it was an isolated little village that few people new about, now it is difficult to cycle down the main street as the cars are parked tight along its full length, with cars trying to negotiate the remaining space. It has a large car/bus park which is usually full.

Looking along the shore at Luss.

       When my kids were still at school I would take them there armed with an inflatable dinghy, and they could paddle up and down the burn that flows into the loch at Luss, or I would row them out to one of the islands, a fair distance from Luss. On one occasion I decided that we would have a full cooked meal on the shore, but no barbecue. So I wrapped some steak with onions and potatoes in tinfoil. Making sure it was properly sealed, I then tied it to the exhaust manifold of my car engine with two pieces of wire. We set off and occasionally there would be the wiff of cooking food. On arriving at the shore in Luss, the other visitors sitting around looked somewhat surprised when I lift the bonnet of the car undone the tinfoil package and filled the air with the smell of hot steaming steak and unions, all beautifully cooked. The secret is to gauge the distance you will drive to the amount you want to cook.   

 Row of cottages covered in shrubs and roses, Luss main street.

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Two Days, Two Climates.

        My cycling season is coming to an end as the days get shorter and colder. My wee bronchial tubes complain too much under such conditions. So I grab a day when ever I can, this time it was Wednesday and Thursday. Scotland is probably unique in that two days following each other can be so different. Wednesday was my most familiar run, the Campsie area, it was overcast, with an easterly wind around 17mph, with quite a chill factor. Thursday it was very hot and the wind was around 3-4mp, which made it a very pleasant outing. So much so, that I didn't stop to take any photos, just a jaunt round the same area and back home. 

    So just the one photo from Wednesday, the Campsie Hills with the mist creeping ever lower, one of its myriad of faces.

 

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Delight In The Drizzle.

         Another dull overcast day, but the wind had all but disappeared. So it was a magical run around my most familiar cycling pad, the Campsie area. Cool but pleasant, it would have been nice to see the sun. Though there was a very light drizzle just as I churned the last few miles home, it didn't in any way detract from the pleasure.

Cast your eyes down from the overcast skies
and what will you see?
Why, priceless jewels and colourful gems
all absolutely free.

Pleasure In The wind.

         I reckon that I read the forecast wrong today. I thought it was sunny intervals and light winds, but out on the bike it was dull, overcast and a strengthening WNW wind, I put the wind at approaching 20mph. on stretches. Not my favourite cycling conditions, but, still a wonderful pleasure to be out on the road.

Rather menacing clouds over the Campsie Hills.

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The Wonders Of Smooth Tarmac.

        What a glorious day, imagine a summer like that, in this country. I suppose some people will say that is what we get, sadly it is just a one day summer. I decided that it has been a while since I went up the Loch, (Loch Lomond), so that was where I ended up. It was a beautiful run, the usual chaotic traffic, but after all these years, you get used to it. One surprise, last time up that way, some of that road was in a dreadful state, especially the part where you approach the Inverbeg Hotel. It is a cyclist's nightmare, dreadful potholes, cracked surface, broken tarmac and loose gravel. However, the powers that be have seen fit to re-surface a large section of the road on that stretch. Gone are the nightmares and the swearing, it was pure dead brilliant, smooth black tarmac, and the quiet whir of the wheels, gliding along in magnificent sunshine, with the Loch on one side, the hills beyond, and trees and shrubbery on the other side. A wondrous vista of natural beauty.

The entrance to Tarbet Hotel Loch Lomond.

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Singing In The Rain.

      Once again I was visited by the evil of the computer world, my computer decided to crash and leave me with a black screen. After a day of typing in gibberish, and getting "unknown command", I gave up and popped it into your friendly computer repair shop. I got it back working, but lots of stuff gone, so I've been trying to get it back to where it was before the dreaded black death. Hence my ranting mind being clamped in the sound of silence for the last week. Where would we be without the internet.

View of the Campsie Hills at Campsie Glen, before you start the walk.

     So today, in spite of the rain, I decided to escape on the dream machine, and head for familiar territory, the Campsies. It was dull and overcast with drizzle when I left, and raining steadily on the way back. However, I didn't suffer too much at all, despite the dampness, and thoroughly enjoyed the outing.

The view as you start the glen walk, too rough for my delicate bike.

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Great Run, Pity About The Roads.

        Well it seems that this glorious spell of wonderful weather is about to fizzle out in a few days time, we will be back to what we know best, a bit on the cold side, windy and wet. However it was great while it lasted, who knows, perhaps it will come back again, SOON.

Ward Toll, a cross roads and a garden centre. 

       I took the bike along another road that I haven't been for a few years, up past Ward Toll, turn right and head down to Buchlyvie, turn right along the road from Stirling, then soup and coffee at Ballot Toll. For some reason I can't find the name "Ballot Toll" on the google map.

Buchlyvie, needs to see to its roads.

      The decision to take the B road to Buchlyvie was a big mistake, for about 1-1.5 miles, the road surface is atrocious, difficult to describe it other than there must be a law against call a piece of ground like that "A Road". you then get a couple of miles of fairly decent surface, then it gets worse than the first bit. The section after you go over the wee hump bridge and start to climb up to the main road, defies description. I thought as I turned onto the main road from Stirling that it would be a good surface, it is not, for the first mile or so, it is a nightmare, it does eventually turn into what could be called "A Road". I would recommend that anybody with a decent road bike should not go anywhere near the Ward Toll to Buchlyvie road.

Ballot Toll, one of my favourite watering holes when out on the bike.

      From Ballot Toll,  I went on to Drymen, then on through Croftamie and on to Glengoyn, famed for its single malt whisky.

Ptarmigan Pub Drymen.

Glengoyn Distillery.

       Despite the miles of excuses for roads, it was a wonderful day out.

Another view from Drymen Square.

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The Bumpy Road To Aberfolye.

 

        Still the sun shines, and our dour Scottish personality is already saying, "Aye, we'll pay for this", but grab it while we can. Another glorious day temperature in the 20's and a light wind, magic. After last weeks nasty experience on the Loch road, I decided to go for the Trossachs and settled for Aberfoyle. It has been a few years since I took the bike to this lovely spot. It was a very pleasant run though not much in the way of flat roads. However, again the road surface raises its ugly head. After you go round the round-about at the Rob Roy Inn, the road is a disgrace, as the main road into Aberfoyle, it is broken, potholed, rough  and a danger to cyclists. You have to suffer about half to three quarters of a mile if unrelenting bangs and bumps, on a narrow busy road. I don't know if it is a fact that many motorists are unaware of what goes on under their car while driving over these road surfaces, and they just accept it, but it is costing them money on damaged shock absorbers and tyres. Perhaps if they wake up to that fact they may complain more and get something done about the problem. Of course you face the same road on the way out of Aberfoyle. Never the less, a beautiful day out.

About four years since I visited this lovely spot on the bike.

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The Engine Still Runs.

        After Sunday's fall at Tarbet, I went to bed with a stiff left knee and a tender bruise on my left calf, I suppose it is where my calf hit the pedal, or the pedal hit my calf, I'll leave that intellectual debate for later. I woke up on Monday morning with a stiff left knee, a darker tender bruise on my left calf, a stiff left wrist and a slight soreness on my left shoulder. This lead me to the conclusion that at my age when you fall, you don't bounce, you crunch.

      I decide that Monday and Tuesday would be, a take it easy couple of days, but Wednesday was so beautiful that I decided to to test the body to see if it still worked. So off I went on the bike, what a wonderful day, a short run out to Campsie Glen, with the usual eating ritual, and felt great, no ill effects. Back home in reasonable style with a smile on my face. Still the odd ache here and there, but the engine still runs.

        No, this is not Germany, it is Haughhead at Campsie Glen, one of those weird places where strange people go to talk to their imaginary friend, who lives in an invisible house in the sky.

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Ah, To Be Young Again.

 

        Tuesday was the chosen day for the bike run, quite warm, sunny intervals that cleared to give us a nice sunny sky, But OH, that wind, 13/14mph was the stated force, I think they were being a little modest, never the less, it was a great run. One thing I find very pleasing, is when there are lots of cyclists on the road, and Tuesday was such a day. They were out in force from the usual solo riders to the small and large groups, wonderful to see.

        I spoke to one solo rider just past the Kirkhouse Inn, he said he was heading over the Crow Road and then heading for the Queen's View. On a route that has practically no flat bits, two stiff climbs, as to get to the Queen's View he would also have to climb The Whistlefield, then make his way back. Ah, Oh to be young again.

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It's A Hilly Country.

         Like I said, I'm a fair weather cyclist now, with all my bits and pieces needing an overhaul, I only come out when the sun shines. The last week was a bit wet and windy, so it was a little over a week since I had been out on the dream machine, but today was beautiful, so off I went. This time it was up round Killearn and Fintry and had the obligatory plate of soup in the "Town and Country Coffee Shop" they don't seem to have cafés in Killearn. While there a young team arrived, they had cycled from the south-side of Glasgow, over the Crow Road, for the uninitiated, that's the road that takes you over the Campsie Hills,  real name, Campsie Fells, not an easy climb. Their way home would see them climb out of the Blane Valley, I'll repeat, not an easy climb.

         Around that area there are quite a few climbs that test you. The other side of Fintry there is the Tak Ma Doon which climbs from Carron Water, and drops you down in Kilsyth, it used to be used for the Scottish hill climbing championships. Then the B road know to cyclists as, The Tap o' Th' World. This beast start at Arn Prior and winds and twists its way up for about three miles, at the top you have the option of turning left, and continuing your climb up through Kippin and Thornhill, or turn right, and get a magnificent three mile descent  down into Fintry. Of course let's not forget The Whistlefield, you meet this fellow when you are cycling from Drymen back through to the West of Glasgow. The first time I climbed this one, many years ago, on reaching the top of the climb, I swear I saw St. Peter, standing at the side of the road ready to welcome those who fell by the wayside.  

      So, today, two photos for the price of one, both taken outside the said coffee shop in Killearn.

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Simple Is Beautiful.

          In Greece you buy your bus tickets at news kiosks and various places, you buy several at a time, to save you looking for a kiosk every time you want to travel. On entering the bus you "validate" your ticket by putting in this little machine, and that means you can't use that ticket again. If you are caught sitting on the bus and you haven't "validated" your ticket you will be fined. So some enterprising people have come up with a simple method to totally undermine that system. The beauty of simple ideas.

Removed bus ticket "validating" machines.

This from Act For Freedom Now:

From the beginning of 2016, dozens of ticket machines have been removed from buses in our neighbourhoods. With simply means, by unscrewing 4 screws and cutting one wire, ticket validation machines were removed from the buses of the local routes (250, 732, 203, 054), securing free transport for everyone even if just for a bit. Commuting with public transport is not strolling in the city. Commuting is a necessity which is directly related with the search for work as well as with us getting there on time. It is commuting for us, “those below”, the workers, the unemployed and the immigrants who serve the profits of the bosses.
        That is why the ticket prices are increasing, that is why controls intensify, and that is why they establish special transport cops, leading to the enforcing of completely controlled zones on public transport and the increase of the cost of our lives. For us, therefore, transport is a blackmailing social necessity and we will not tolerate it being transformed into a daily stress about where we will bump into an inspector, or whether or not the money is enough for a ticket.
         We will not tolerate our total exclusion from something that essentially belongs to us. This is why we factually resist and sabotage the control systems on public transport: on the ones that already exist (such as the pilot system of turnstiles on buses –i.e. bus 224- which were removed as soon as they appeared) as well those to come (electronic tickets, CCTV, cops, price increases) disrupting thus the technical possibility of our bosses to impose on us whatever suits them. We are not the state. We are against it, and its left wing, which shares out crumbs for “free commute” and presents the flexible workers, the part-timers and the workers of 300, 400 and 500 euro as privileged, while it simultaneously promotes class exclusion for all the weak and grabs more from their wage: with taxes, social security, illegal and unpaid labour.
        Against the state which calls us to consent and abide to its strategies for more profit and more discipline, we propose the resistance to control, sabotaging of surveillance mechanisms, refusing to pay as well as the factual solidarity amongst locals and immigrants, those who resist, amongst all us who have nothing to gain from state policies. And we call all those who want to and possibly fear, to do their part: factually refuse the controls and prices in our daily commutes, sabotage control systems on public transport in every way and everywhere, individually and collectively defend their free commuting. Because our attitude against public transport represents our overall attitude in society and against the structure of the state. And all of this is an inseparable piece of the struggles we fight against the misery and devaluation of our lives, against the employer arbitrariness and oppression, for the defence of social reproduction and social goods.

AGAINST COMMODITIES AND SELF-ORGANIZED,

WE ARE TAKING OUR LIVES INTO OUR OWN HANDS.

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