This Land--.

     In England 92% of the land and 97% of rivers are owned by a small, extremely wealthy,  bunch of pampered privileged parasites, Scotland is much the same. I have always been puzzled by somebody owning a large slice of the planet. Who did they buy it from, who held the original deeds, was it God? or did a bunch of thieving scoundrels just steal it, then gave bits to their friends and buddies. I think the latter. Isn't it about time we reversed that situation and became the land grabbers and take it all back into common ownership for the benefit of all?

 

 

       In the U.K., folks can wander over private property without asking permission.
       This is called “the right to roam” and its legal legacy can be traced back to a grassroots movement started by Benny Rothman in the 1930s.
      Rothman was a member of rebellious group of Manchester factory workers who called themselves “ramblers”. The ramblers sought to get out of sooty Manchester on their time off in order to see the beautiful Peak District that surrounded them. The problem was that almost all of this land was in the hands of private landlords who hired game keepers to keep walkers (and possible poachers) at bay.
       This had not always been the case. Some 300 years earlier, most of the land in the UK has been part of the Commons where people could graze livestock and hunt as they could.
        Beginning in the mid-18th century, however, the Enclosure Movement worked to privatize most common land in England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland. This has been described as "a revolution of the rich against the poor," and it transformed the countryside 

 

 Thanks loam for the video link:

 

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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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Short Sleeves.

    Well, well, what a beautiful day, how could you not want to get on your bike? It was warm enough for me to do a wee cycle in my favourite dress mode, cycling shirt with short sleeves. It has been quite a while since I was able to do that, felt great.

    It was just the usual wee spin round my home patch circling and figure eight, trying to remind the legs what they used to do. Happily the answered not too badly at all. Though if you saw the last couple of wee videos you will have noticed the increase in traffic on the road. Sadly it looks like it is all coming back.

    Tomorrow is forecast to be another fine day, might manage out two days in a row. Wow.

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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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Public Park And Broken Glass, Bad Combination.

       Another lovely day, isn't our climate wonderful. I have a short memory problem when it comes to our wet and windy, cold and drizzly Scottish weather, because of which, I am always optimistic about our climate. So another wee run out on the bike, again one of those embarrassing short runs. This time very local, headed for Springburn Public Park, my local park. It is not that large but was a maze of tracks and paths lots of them shrouded in trees and shrubs. You can merrily cycle around twisting and turning under the impression that you are going somewhere. It is the public park I played in as a school kid, many centuries ago. As well as football pitches, a bowling green, kids play area, and what is a large green space, used as a cricket pitch, it has three ponds. One is labelled Duck conservation pond, another is a beautiful wild life pond, the third, when I was a boy, used to be the boating pond, where you could hire small paddle boats and for a short period, be a pirate. It is now another wild life pond. At the moment as well as lots of mallard ducks there are swans standing guard over their cygnets. Most of the tracks are smooth tarmac, good for the bike, a few stretches are rather in need of repair.

 

       What started off as a great day went all wrong after about 8 miles or so of pleasant pedaling. Sadly the park has a couple of spots where some idiot has smashed a bottle and left it there for kids to fall on, dogs to walk over and cyclist to get punctures. Yes, you guessed it, I got a puncture, back wheel. Walking is not my thing any more, nor is sitting on the grass fixing a puncture. It's not the sitting on the grass, its the getting back up, arthritis and all that jazz. So I walked a bit, found a tree stump, sat there and fixed the puncture. stumbled back to the path and went to get on the bike and discovered that the front wheel was also flat. Too much bother to fix it, so ended my wee cycle, the rest was a slow rather painful walk pushing the bike. Ah well, there's always tomorrow.

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The Molendinar Burn And Glasgow.

      I have been out on the bike a few times recently, but haven't bothered to stop and take a photo. The reason being the runs are so embarrassingly short, a mere 10-15 miles, the 60+ to 90+ miles two or three times a week seem to be over. The weather hasn't been too kind to me, short spells of good weather and then a return to cold and showery. Since I am now a fair weather cyclist, that limits me quite a bit. Actually I no longer refer to myself as a cyclist, but more an old guy who goes out on his bike now and again.

     Today, despite the overcast sky and a bit of a cold wind, Stasia and I headed for Hogganfield Loch. A small loch to the east of Glasgow, a popular walking, cycling, dog walkers area and kids play area. It only measures approximately 1.3 miles going round the loch, but there are paths that you can deviate from the lochside and meander to change the scenery.

     Though a small loch, I suppose you could say that if it was not for this small loch, Glasgow may not have been the city it is. It is from Hogganfield Loch that the Molendinar Burn runs towards the Clyde, and it was on the banks of the Molendinar Burn that St Mungo set up his little Christian sanctuary, at the site where the Glasgow Cathedral now stands. This attracted people to the area and the rest is history as they say.

    Today the Molendinar Burn has all but disappeared, in the late 1800's it was contained in a culvert and now runs towards the Clyde somewhere under Wishart Street. Though there is still a small bit just about visible to the Gleswegians that want to have a wee look. At the west side of a fine looking building, 100 Duke Street there is a patch of trees and shrubs and through that growth there is a part of the Molendinar that is still open to the sky.

     The building 100 Duke Street started life as a rather ornate mill, belonging to R F and J Alexander, and is reputed to be the first building in Scotland that was built to be fire resistant. The mill and its workers disappeared as technology changed, and the building then became a home for homeless men, known as the Great Eastern Hotel. Now it is a "residential redevelopment", Still an impressive looking building. 

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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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