Out Again.

       Managed out on the bike yesterday, June 7th. just a wee spin round the Lowmoss area, wee runs are all I do nowadays, circumstances dictate. Gone are the days when I could get up in the morning and decide is it Loch Ard, Arrochar, Callander, Lake of Menteith, Loch Venachar, Strathyre, or Dunoon, then set off with a smile on my face. Now I usually start with a wee cruise around the Cadder Cemetery before heading out onto the road. At that point I lose my camera assistant Stasia, hence the view of so many tombstones. It was a pleasant enough day but I picked the wrong thin cycling shirt, so the temperature was just that wee bit lower that I find comfortable. Of course there is something that most cyclists will be aware of, some of the road surfaces are downright dangerous. There is a bit of the road on the Lowmoss to Lenzie road, though not the only road, that is really a killer lying in wait. The road isn't that wide and you have to go wide from the edge to avoid craters rather than potholes, and with cars doing their usual 50mph minimum it can sometimes be a wee bit nerve racking, especially to an old crater like yours truly.

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Familiar Road.

     What a beautiful day, so ventured out on the dream machine to a familiar patch, but one I hadn't visited for some considerable time. A wee run around Milton of Campsie. Not the flattest of routes but well loved by yours truly. I'm sure they make those hills a bit higher each year, or so it feels. I'm sure there must be another reason I'm overlooking for that thought. 

      Stopped to take a couple of photos at the cafe I sometimes popped into for that obligatory plate of soup and coffee, It is of course closed because of this Covid19 beastie. No following camera woman Stasia on this route. The name of the cafe refers to where it is, near the Campsie Fells. 

    Across the road from the cafe there is a little garden with a marble bench seat. The inscription, which I don't think you can read in the photo, tells us that it was created in memory of one of our far too many politicians, Charles Kennedy, JP., and counciller, for this area, not to be confused with the other Charles Kennedy Liberal MP. 

      Another claim to fame for this wee village is that a farm in Milton of Campsie area was the birth place of Scottish radical, Thomas Muir.

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Sun And Bike.

     Managed out on the bike yesterday, just the same wee circuit that I abandoned last week because of roadworks temporary traffic lights in two sections, and single lane driving always a bit of a nuisance to an old guy like me. However all that had gone so it was just a half a dozen wee runs round the circuit from Cadder cemetery out past Lowmoss and towards Lenzie, turn and join the main Kirkintilloch Bishopbriggs road round the Cadder cemetery and repeat about half a dozen times or so. Just enough to remind the legs what they are supposed to do.

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Peddle Happy.

       Everywhere I turn it is covid19, coronavirus, pandemic, so it is good to escape now and again, my favourite escape is the bike. I have managed out a few times recently, and it always feels great to be on the road again, doing my thing in my own peculiar way. The last couple of times it has been a short buzz round the Lowmoss area. The wee video might bore most of you, but it brings a glow of pleasure to my heart. If you look carefully you can just about make out "yours truly" peddling his way along the main drag from Kirkintilloch to Bishopbriggs. I finished my wee run of pleasure at the Cadder cemetery, I do believe that a lot of people finish their run their, my grandfather for one.

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Out Again.

         Well, well, I thought it might never happen again. However, today I got out on the bike for a wee run, just a wee run. Which is fantastic as I was beginning to think that I would never get back on the bike again. A crap spell of chemo and hospital appointments and various other procedures, arthritis in my lower spine and hips and slipped disc, among other problems and a lousy spring, too cold for my chest, made it look doubtful. However, today, 17 degrees and no wind, how could I resist. Though I did cheat, to ease the pain in my back I took a couple of paracetamol before heading out. Something I refrain from doing, hate those things, I have enough pills on my list to keep a pharmacy in business all by myself.

    It was just a short spin around Springburn Park, but boy, did it feel good, as usual Stasia had to get some photos, she can't resist, I hope you can see the delight in my face.

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Hope Springs Eternal.

        Well Sunday was a special day for me. After almost 18 months of medical problems from internal examinations to tumour removal, from chemo to fractured foot, from A&E to blood transfusions, from Acute Assessment Units to urine infections, from flu to pneumonia, from being carted off in an ambulance to labyrinthitis, and energy levels that dipped below zero, I was beginning to think that I would never get back on the bike.        

         However, hope springs eternal and Sunday being a nice day, sunny intervals and a light wind, I decided now was the time. So a small outing on the dream machine was called for, and the legs didn't complain too much, though there has been a drop off of power in the wee legs, but I was out pushing the pedals. I'm too embarrassed to say how small a run it was, but I was out there just as a wee test run to see how I got on, and it was fantastic. I am now looking forward with immense delight to a long hot summer that I know Scotland can deliver. Yeeha.

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On The Road Again.

       Well Tuesday was a mild day, a bit overcast, but no rain and little in the way of wind. So who wouldn't want to get out on the bike? First time in quite a long while since I had been on the road, recent outings have been along the Forth and Clyde canal, it's relatively flat, (its been a rotten year with one thing and another), so nice and easy.

      Today it was cycling round and round the Lowmoss area, back on familiar roads round my patch, and it was great to escape the canal. I suppose, as far as cycling goes, I have covered too many road miles, over too many years, to be anything but a bike "roadie". When I started cycling cars were an oddity, one would roll past every now and again, today, it is an endless convoy of tin boxes of all shapes and sizes, flashing past you, sometimes at frightening speed and dangerous close, they call it progress. 

      Glasgow recently hosted the European cycling championships, and I suppose you could say of the council, "Didn't they do well", whole swaths of road were repaired, potholes were sorted, sunken drain covers were fixed. Sadly it was only the roads to be used by the professional cycle racers. All that repair work for a couple of hundred cyclists, when the city has thousands of cyclists that  use the roads on a daily basis and nothing is done to fix the multitude of potholes, crack and broken tarmac, sunken drain covers, on the roads all over the city. I think they got their priorities dreadfully wrong. Surely the citizens of Glasgow deserve as good a treatment as cycling visitors. Then again, the big spectacle is all about big money, and our city council will always pay homage to the big bucks. Ah, that's capitalism.

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Cycling Shoe To Moon-boot.

         Last week Stasia and I decided we would head for the Isle of Bute with the bikes and enjoy a few days cycling on the island. We booked into a wee cottage in Rothesay. Unfortunately the day or so before we left for the Isle, while doing some DIY in the garden, I dropped a rather heavy piece of teak on my left foot. I didn't think much of it at the time, but when we arrived in Rothesay, my foot was "loupin", (throbbing with pain). So it was a visit the the local Accident and Emergency unit, efficient examination, Xray, and told I had three small fractures on my foot, fitted with a "moon-boot" and handed a walking stick. Back at the cottage I thought, the "moon-boot" is to hold the foot firm and support the bones, well, a cycling shoe with its solid sole and tight Velcro straps would do just the same. Undaunted, off we went for a short cycle along the coast, stopping at a quiet spot, I sat and admired the view, while Stasia wandered along the beach. After a while it was a pleasant cycle back to the cottage. However by this time my foot was complaining something terrible, so it was back on with the moon-boot and that was the end of our cycling around the Isle of Bute. Now home and the foot is still "loupin". 

Enjoying Isle of Bute sunshine.

Stasia doing her walk-about.

Not the ideal cycling shoe. 

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Two Stables And Not a Horse In Sight.

       What has happened to Scotland? Glorious sunny weather day after day, "Aye, we'll piy fur this, mark ma words."  However, in the meantime let's grasp it while we can. Still trying to get some miles in my legs, it was back to the Forth and Clyde Canal, stretching it a little each time out. What a great afternoon, the canal was busy with walkers and cyclists, as well as the odd boat chugging its way along, with people sunning themselves on deck. I was also delighted to see a group of school kids canoeing their way along the canal. I passed two "Stables" but not a horse in sight, they are both now eating houses. One Lambhill Stables, where I saw the canoeists, the other, The Stables near Kirkintilloch, in the past, I have sampled its hospitality and it was very pleasant, both were busy.

 I never got this at school.

Lambhill Stables.

The Stables near Kirkintilloch.

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Back On The Road Again.

         I have been out on the bike quite a few times recently, but have never bothered to post anything about the journeys. The main reason being that they have all been of the soft option, easy and short, along the Forth and Clyde Canal. 

          Today, for a wee change, I thought I would have a go at my favourite patch, the Campsie area and post a few photos, just to let my friends know that I am still out pushing the pedals. Though nowadays I don't refer to myself as a cyclist, more an old guy who goes out on his bike.  Part was on the road to Strathblane, where my old legs complained a little at the hills, and my pace was pathetic. The other part was on the Strathblane Railway Path. I suppose it used to be a railway that served the rural area, until Beeching put paid to that. I never feel happy on these cycle paths and canal paths. They seem too narrow, and with joggers, dog walkers, families with prams and kids, and cyclist, all moving in both directions, I get a little frustrated and apprehensive. I'm happier on the road I just have the vehicles to contend with and they are all moving in the same direction as myself.  Well that's my wee moan over for the meantime.

The road at Strathblane just before you enter the cycle path.

A view from the cycle path.

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A Second Start.

 

       After a very late and false start to my cycling season about a month ago, I was hit with some more problems. So feeling good and Friday being a beautiful day, start number two was scheduled. So Stasia and I set off for the same very easy, and very short, relatively flat run along part of the Forth and Clyde canal. I can't believe it is halfway through May and I am just starting (again) my cycling season, what a crap year. However, once again that wonderful feeling of pumping the pedals, looking around at the countryside and enjoying the brilliant weather. Being a weekday, the canal path was not that busy, at the weekends it can be a bit of a nightmare as it very popular with walkers, runners, families, dog walkers, couples with prams and of course cyclists, it is not a wide path. It was also good to see that the canal was relatively busy with various pleasure craft. A stop off at the Stables, a favourite watering hole on the canal bank a little before Kirkintilloch. A great afternoon, and the legs didn't complain too much, but seem to have forgotten the word "pace".

Some "canalfarers" at rest.

The bridge at Kirkintilloch.

The Stables, a pleasant watering hole on the canal near Kirkintilloch. 

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A Welcome Sign On A Short Run.

      After six months of medical problems and a prolonged winter and forced inactivity, my thoughts were sadly turning to, would I ever get out on the bike again. Saturday was a beautiful day so after a few trials of trying to get my leg over and onto the bike and back off again, I set off. I picked an easy run, very easy, and a short run, very short, I decided to follow the Forth and Clyde canal for a bit and then return by the same route. I was hoping that the legs wouldn't complain too much, to my delight they didn't. The pace was down as was the gears I was using, but what the hell, here I was pedaling in beautiful sunshine, ah, the exhilaration. Not far along my journey I had to stop and take a photo of a very welcoming sight, an unknown friend had been busy with their paint can.

      So the first run of the late start season over, and looking forward to building it up, weather permitting, after all, this is Scotland, land of the mist and the heather. 

A welcoming sign.

A wee seat at Kirkintilloch to sit and enjoy the canal.

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It Doesn't Always Go To Plan.

        Thursday was a pleasant day, a wee break from the usual wind and rain we have been getting. So good opportunity to get out on the bike, over the last month or so, I have been out once and on occasions twice a week as weather permits for a fair weather cyclist. Usually it was round the Campsie area, on a recent visit to Bishopbriggs I noticed a cycle path that went through a kids play area and on through some trees. With my twisted logic I assumed that it would continue meandering down towards the Forth and Clyde canal. So that was my plan, set off from Bishopbriggs along the cycle path on to the canal to Kirkintilloch, and then decide which road to take from there. Nice and easy through the kids park, into the tree area, then faced with a rather steep incline of a footpath/cycle-track. That's where I bumped into these three guys, they looked quite surprised to see me.

       At the top of the incline, disappointment, the cycle path didn't continue, it was onto a road, I was now in a housing estate. making my way through an area I didn't know, finally arrived at the main Bishopbriggs, Kirkintiloch road, a road I always try to avoid. The traffic was horrendous and every couple of hundred yards or so, a set of traffic lights. Before Kirkintilloch, I decided that I had had enough, and headed back to a café in Bishopbriggs and home. A rather short and not my most enjoyable outing, that will teach me not to assume anything, but check things out first.

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