Mayday (well, almost) meander

Today is the closest I'll be able to get to a meander on Mayday this year. Luckily the sunshine is streaming in through the window all morning, there seems to be only the lightest breeze, and I've got some free time this afternoon. Some me time, some time among the hills.

I'm starting at the car park near Castlelaw Hill Fort. The sun is shining bright, I'm warm, the sky is so blue, with great fluffy puffy balls of cotton wool. Its just beautiful, I'm so glad I was able to come here at this time. I'm not going up to the hill fort today, I'm going the other way, on the path around the farm through the trees. Its all good here, lovely little lambs, and the start on a gorgeous little earthy rooty track.

Beautiful start near Castlelaw Hill Fort

Kissing gate onto tracks around the farm ...

... with lovely little lambs ...

... and a delightful earthy rooty track through the trees.

The path leads onto a gravel/stone/mud farm track underneath the army firing ranges. Music today is no music, except the singing of birds and bleating of lambs, oh joy. Also, rather less pleasant, gunfire. The ranges are in use today, the raggedy red flags are flying. I'm practically 'running naked', no music, no garmin, no waterproofs, no rucsac, just a little bumbag with windproof, phone, keys, water, and a few other bits and bobs, wearing shorts and t-shirt (no leggings, yay) and red-faced sweat-soaked anyway. Coming clear of the trees I have good views down over Glencorse Reservoir, and I've never seen the water so low. I might pop down there for a ganders on the way back to the car. Right now I'm turning a bit to the north and heading up on softer tracks above the Kirk Burn. To my right the sheet of metal which must be part of the army training. I've seen this thing so many times and wondered what as to the purpose, then I saw the same thing in use in airports in India, not the most relaxing sight for the tired traveller.

Farm track below the military firing ranges at Castlelaw

The raggedy reg flags are flying today, with the sound of gunfire.

Views over Glencorse Reservoir, water very low at the moment.

I'm heading up above Kirk Burn

Hide behind this sort of thing with automatic rifle sticking out of the 'letter box' ... Airport, New Delhi.

It's a delight along this track. There are no urban sounds. The folds of the hills hide me from the noise of the nearby A702. There seems to be less gunfire or perhaps it is simply muffled by the hillside. The bird songs are sweet and lambs bleat, divine. There are other sounds, clouds of small insects in the air, and the buzzing of big fat bumble bees. The insects are feasting on exposed flesh, I'd really like to take my shirt off here it is so warm, but not with these dratted insects. The bumble bees have started to become a bit of a nuisance as well, they seem to spend too long hanging around me, flying too close to me, at least too much so for my comfort. I wonder if they are attracted to the bright colour of the yellow shirt? There are other sounds, human voices from the other side of the valley, I can see a couple of mountain bikers coming down the Phantom's Cleugh, and a group of walkers traversing below Capelaw, the bark of a dog, I can make it out running ahead of the walkers, no doubt chasing some scent unavailable to the human nose. Me, I can mostly smell sheep, and here comes a lovely little lamb trotting along the path. This path, after rain, can be a complete mudbath. Today the ground is in pretty good condition, although still having a few moments.

Lovely going along the path, so peaceful

Hello little lamb

This is a good path, often muddy ...

... with a few downs-and-ups crossing small streams.

I'm approaching Fala Knowe, a 'bump' between Castlelaw and the Caerketton Ridge, where I stop for some water and check the time. Hmm, I've been slow today, I'd better turn back toward the car park now. I reach the little footpath beside the trees down to the reservoir, I'm tempted to turn down and go have a look at the low water. I'll be on the asphalt for a while before I can climb back up to the farm, but as I look along the rougher track in front of me I decide to continue straight ahead, splashing through the water (well, doesn't it help to clean the shoes?). For no particular reason a red-faced selfie along the way. It seems like no time passes and I'm approaching the farm (with happy wet feet), a quick check of time and I'm here earlier than expected. I guess I was quite a bit faster coming down than I had been going up. Oh well, I'll just pop down the other track to Glencorse, have a ganders, and suffer the asphalt. A good steep path careering down through the gorse, brilliant. The water is indeed very low in the reservoir.

Approaching the bump of Fala Knowe

Tempted to descend to the reservoir ...

... but deciding to remain on the farm track and splash through the water.

For no particular reason a red-faced selfie

Near the farm, time to spare so descend ...

... good fun careering down through the gorse

Indeed the water levels are very low here!

Tolerating a kilometre of asphalt I arrive at the bottom of the steep path, the one I'd decided earlier I would not bother to descend, well now its time to ascend and loop back to the farm near the car park. Lots of trees falling over here after the big winds, and more troubles with bumble bees. Anyway, I feel much cooler now, the sun is obscured by grey clouds, the wind has freshened, might rain soon.

What comes down must go up again ...

... lots of uprooted trees (and bees!)

Skies darken, wind freshens, maybe rain coming.

Nice little peaceful (apart from the guns) meander of about 8km with ascent/descent about 210m, mostly walking uphill, always running downhill, out for about an hour and a quarter. Worked for me today!

Enjoy!

April Showers (Not!)

I seem to have been a bit lazy on the blog front for, oh, let's see, hmm, maybe the last eight weeks. Mostly weekends have been busy with family stuff, including quite a few bike rides with Mrs and Junior. Very pleased to report that Junior got a new cycling distance PB of 20.4 miles on Easter Sunday. Anyway, earlyish start to work this morning, outside the office window the sun was sublime, thoughts of a notsolongish lunchtime lollop ... checking the weather forecast we should have (probable heavy) rain showers and a bit of wind, aha, so dress appropriate.

Cometh the hour, cometh the old plodder, quickly all dressed up and out the front door to the bus stop for the #4. Where's this weather? It's still beautiful out here! I couldn't be bothered to check the bus timetable this morning, and while I'm peering at the poster in the bus shelter, the first #4 goes sailing past, d'oh! So ... for me the second #4 ... I've a fifteen minute wait. Maybe a moment more of preparation the next time would be better. Mentioning preparation, a few minutes later the weather looks like its doing its preparation, the sky is soon covered in dark clouds, the sun obscured, and the wind freshening.

I've hopped off the bus in suburbia near the Caiy Stane, a probably/possibly neolithic, maybe earlier than 3000BC, standing stone here now in the midst of the streets and houses. "Standing at over nine feet high ... this broad slab of sandstone includes a line of six, probably prehistoric, cup marks on its reverse face". I looked around the back and was able to find six indentations, alas also too much unsavoury and certainly unprehistoric graffiti (blech), which would not want a photograph.

The Caiy Stane

The plan is that while I'm messing about with my little camera and this ancient stone the forerunner can have its little age to sync-up with the satellites. Ah, I said that word "plan", is this supposed to be a running blog, well so perhaps I should mention my "training plan" for today. There isn't one, but there is a plan. I plan to run with a controlled and low heart rate. Well, I say "low", what I mean is, "heart rate not going through the roof". I've remembered to put on the HRM strap, soaked in water, the contacts all lubed up with nature's own electrode gel (aka, snot), but there's no watch on my wrist, its still at home, so I haven't even started but I've had two preparation fails already. Oh well, at least I have a route plan, and the weather seems to be getting better. I'm plugged in today, I'm using the media player, a little Sandisk Sanza ClipZip. So often in the last year or so I've used this gadget to blast dark trance or psy core into my ears, very fast bpm, running to (try to!) keep my feet locked into the beat, for cadence training. Well, today, its quite the opposite, I'm listening to the music of Tibetan singing bowls, relaxation sounds, more like "having a nice little sit down" kind of music.

The kick-off takes me along just under a mile of boring roads and over the noisy city bypass at the Lothianburn junction. Coming down the Biggar Road I'm remembering a pleasant excursion which started on lovely trails through the trees, from near the #4 bus stop across the road. Soon enough I'm off the asphalt along the edge of a golf course and then feet treading the earth through the trees. I wouldn't say this is all that peaceful of a location, the traffic of the bypass is just a few metres to my right, but the sounds of the singing bowls are helping on that front.

Soon off the asphalt near the horses and golf courses, shame about the pylons ...

... then more pleasant underfoot through the trees.

Did I mention weather and forecast? There is no rain, not a drop, and hardly any wind, and its really a lovely warm sunny day now, I'm wearing the wrong kit, and I'm hot, I'm sweating hard. Possibly maybe I started to get used to dressing for cycling. definitely I have an unwanted layer today. I have to stop and adjust (reduce) my wardrobe, top and bottom. Hopefully the lady tending to the horses will not notice my hasty "full monty" to remove the under-garments!

Too soon the footpath through the trees comes to an end. I'm back on a gravel track around the edge of a golf course and then a short section on rough roads. More horses (these three are watching me, I think) and more courses, and soon some good clean (??) mud fun and a stone stile brings me back to earth.

More horses (watching me?!) ...

... more courses ...

... good clean mud and hop over an old stone stile.

Ah now this is more like it, over the grass with not much of a footpath, the sun shining on me, I'm happy. But I'm still really hot. I'd like to run without shirt but that is not an option today, I'm wearing my Deuter Speedlite 15 (because, I had to carry the waterproofs, this is supposed to be heavy rain now) and it will chafe my bare shoulders until they bleed. Not much choice for me, take a few minutes break, take some water, take off the shirt, and have a nice little sit down and chant om along to the singing bowls. This is military ground, and my peace is only a little disrupted by the sound of automatic gun fire. Anyway, that's better now, I feel much cooler, my heart rate is not insane, and its time to move. I'm soon reaching the bottom of the gravel track up into the hills, leading to the pass between Allermuir and Capelaw, just by the funny little stone building (not a clue why its here, to be honest).

The terrain underfoot, more my style!

Not a clue why this little stone building is here

I'm heading down, not up, today, and the stone/gravel track soon descends steeply beside a wee burn. The views up the burn to my left, and down through the trees to my right, are a delight. Looks like some great trails in the woods there to explore some time soon. From here I'm over the fields in the direction of Bonaly and then a right turn downhill through the trees, over the roots and some more proper mud, takes me to the picturesque delight of wee Bonaly Burn. I came through this place, in the other direction, in January and I've been looking forward to a return.

Loving the view back up along the wee burn ...

... and through the trees, great trails to explore another day.

Descending now on the earth through the trees ...

... happy to find some proper mud now ...

... and the beauty of Bonaly Burn.

This could be such a tranquil place, but alas the thunderous traffic of the bypass is again just a few metres away. The burn and the path lead under the road, and soon my route has me crossing the burn and off the trails into the pavements of suburbia at Bonaly. Actually, I don't mind, its part of my plan today, I want to discover the access point for this path relative to the #10 bus stop outside the wee shop in Bonaly, that's information I can put to good use in the future. Then a run down Bonaly Road brings me onto Woodhall Road in the direction of Colinton Village. I can just keep going along this road, or, as an alternative, there is this little footpath to the left ... if only all decisions in life were so simple! Turns out there is a small network of footpaths descending steeply down to Spylaw Park here and these are gorgeous easy running and soft underfoot. The wild garlic is just coming out now, a whiff of delicious scent in the air, soon the smells here will be ecstatic. Note to self: you must learn how to harvest the wild garlic, and use it in food ... thinkingto myself this stuff would make a super soup.

Crossing and leaving the wee burn.

Decisions, decisions, road or earth?

Lovely paths descending toward the river ...

... ah, a delicious whiff, the wild garlic is coming, spring!

These gorgeous little paths leave me on the riverside beneath the grand stone arches of the road bridge, and I'm enjoying the views downriver. I don't know why, because its my preferred cycling route but not at all my preferred running route, but a propos nothing I've decided to make left onto the old branch railway line, passing the site of the old Colinton Station, and then through the tunnel. From the great age of railways, the line was opened in August 1874 and was built to transport goods from the mills on the upper reaches of the river. There were also passenger services, popular with Edinburgh residents who would play and picnic in Spylaw Park and the dells at Colinton and Craiglockhart. The passenger services ended in 1943, and the freight services in 1967. Like many of the disused branch railway lines in Edinburgh, this is now a valued cycling/walking/running track, with just a little of the Victorian engineering/architecture remaining. For example, the tunnel in front of me. I'm remembering the last time I came through on foot, at night, in July of last year. It had been scorching weather and I'd just come down from the hills in the dark shirt-less, by time I'd reached the tunnel I could see my hot breath in the air. Happy memories.

The grand stone arches of the road bridge at Spylaw Park ...

... and peace-giving views down the river.

Approaching the old Colinton railway tunnel.

Leaving the tunnel I definitely want to take the sharp descent to the lower path beside the river, cross over the bridge by the weir, and follow the better paths on the other side. So at the lower path, alas, there is a sign, the path is closed due to a "dangerous tree" ... what, does it have weapons or something, or have we all of a sudden gotten some gympi gympi here? Or perhaps the poor old thing is just falling over ... The singing bowls are still ringing in my ears, I love the sound, but its time for a change now, its time for some good oud music. Well, anyway, I've got to get up feels-like-endless steps back onto the hard underfoot of the old railway line for a short while. Alright, I'm going along the "wrong" side of the river now, but I can make the best of it diverting from the bike path, along gravel paths and over the grass beside the river bank in the dells, enjoying the sights of the river.

Leaving the tunnel, the light at the end has not been a train for about half a century.

Hello great weir, goodbye river, footpath closed

The grass of the dells offers respite from the gravel ...

... and sweet views on the river.

I have not seen a single heron today, although I've looked. The Easter Sunday bike ride (Junior did so well, bless him) covered a lower section of the river and we saw at least four heron, odd that I've seen none today. Oh well, soon before me the stone arch of the Bogsmill (what a name!) Road bridge where at last I can cross to the better side. I've blogged this path before in a "Riverside Ramble" post with plenty of detail, so to avoid any more repetition just one thing to mention, a new stone built bench a little up-river from the visitor centre at Slateford.

The stone arch at Bogsmill Road, I can cross to the better side.

New-ish, a stone bench near the weir at Slateford.

Not a difficult route, but for me today hard work, in super weather, sun and warm, wearing the wrong choice of kit (those bleeping weather forecasts), and carrying waterproofs etc which were never used. There were no cooling April Showers for me today. No matter, so much better for the soul than plodding along the city streets, or even worse, the treadmill at the gym. I've just gone about 13km, ascent about 200m, descent about 300m, maybe half-and-half fast walking and slow jogging, plus a little shirt-free spot of sunbathing on the soft grass listening to the singing bowls and doing a bit of aum.

Enjoy!

Beyond Memory Lane

I finished my last post here saying "... I think may as well start writing about some cycling miles soon ...". I've recently purchased a new-to-me reconditioned Matts Merida hardtail from The Bike Station here in Edinburgh (great place, great people), I've got thoughts about mixed cycling-running expeditions in my future, but today is our first outing together and I've decided on an easy (i.e., slow, flat) route.

In October of last year I wrote about the route I used when I started running three years ago, my Memory Lane, mostly along the side of the Union Canal from the Lochrin Basin in Tollcross. I'm starting late morning (la grasse matinee, encore), on a lovely sunny Sunday morning, with a little roadwork and then onto the canal at the end of Memory Lane, then beyond. I've written about the next seven or so kilometres (coming in the opposite direction) early in January of this year. I'll not repeat today, so fast (or, not so fast) forward as I approach the Gogar Station Road bridge where I joined the canal on that day. Really, not so fast this morning, I'm taking it easy, and the musical distraction is chants of Om, I'm feeling very relaxed indeed. Not so fast is the best plan here this morning, the canal side is very crowded. There are lots of cyclists (most of those coming in the same direction overtake me), lots and lots of runners (some of those coming in the same direction overtake me), no doubt many training for EMF in a couple of months time, and very many walkers, it's always good to see folk getting outdoors on a fine morning.

Starting at the end of Memory Lane on a fine morning.

Approaching the Gogar Station Road bridge.

This section of the canal will take me to the village of Ratho. There are fine views over to the Pentland Hills on my left. The northernmost group are clear of snow at the moment, the higher hills wear delightful white caps. To my right, not so good, we have the M8 and traffic noise, it disturbs the peace of the Om. There are some folk here, not as many as the city section, the water is still and I enjoy the reflections. Soon I reach the Addiston Bridge, a kind of landmark for me because it means Ratho is close, but also because the asphalt ends for a while, the towpath becomes muddier, softer, a bit harder, slower, work on the bike. I'll have a good line of mud splatter up the middle of my back soon. The sky has clouded over, the wind had picked up a little but at least its to my tail, and we have light rain showers.

Fine views over the Pentland Hills on my left ...

... not so nice the noise of the motorway from my right.

The canal side quieter here, and liking the reflections in the still waters.

The Addiston Bridge, Ratho approaches, and the surface becomes softer, muddier.

Splish splash and Ratho is reached. I'll take a brief water stop here at the picnic area with the model of a horse pulling a barge. The Bridge Inn has a reputation for serving a good pint and excellent food. There are always barges moored on the canal. Not far along the towpath and the Edinburgh International Climbing Arena is above to my right. Apparently, "The World's Largest Indoor Climbing Arena". I've been there, it really is impressive. There's a good cafe as well, and I'm a bit tempted to be honest, but its a little early for lunch (breakfast was late for this old sleepy head) ... so, on with the pedal plod.

Brief stop at the picnic area in Ratho

The scenic Bridge Inn

Always like the colourful canal barges

The World's Largest Indoor Climbing Arena

The next section of canal side will take me to Lin's Mill Aquaduct. The scenes along the way are starting to become a little "same old, same old" ... canal, towpath, sometimes asphalt, sometimes stones and dirt, trees, bridges ... and then an amusing sight. There's a small side-channel and a little island in the canal, with a "castle", haha. Not a clue what is the story here, but gave me a bit of a chuckle. Soon the aquaduct comes into view. I've been here before when I ran around the Almondell and Calderwood parks in my Calder Canter in September of last year, and it feels good to be here again. There are no canoes on the water today to distract me from the views down to the River Almond crashing below. Looking toward the other side, the distorted reflections of railings in the water bring to mind zebra, and memories of a jolly jaunt up Corstorphine Hill nine or ten months ago. I've written about the next short section along the canal here before, so once again, I'll not repeat ... oh, wait ...

The castle on the island

Lin's Mill Aquaduct approaches

River Almond crashing around below to my right ...

... and to my left zebra hide distorted reflections of the railings.

I've not long passed the small town of Broxburn and looking out to the bings. There are thoughts of lunch, and that cafe at the climbing wall, they've been gnawing away at my mind for a wee while, and I'm hungry. Time to stop for a brief snack, the squashed energy bars are hiding somewhere in the bottom of my backpack, so a bit of a rummage. Good news, one squashed but edible energy bar found. Bad news, no bike lock present, I've left it at home. This kind of spikes two elements on my plan for the day. First: a cafe lunch stop, can't lock the bike. Hmm, could get away with that, wouldn't be the first time. Second: a train back to Edinburgh. I'm such a cycling virgin, I've never taken a bike on a train. I read the Scotrail terms and conditions and one point was very clear, the bike owner must lock the bike on the train. I've no idea what happens if you turn up without the lock. I'm not prepared to take a chance, I have to be home for tea-time. I must turn around here and back-track, ho hum, camera away and a bit of a down-hearted slog back

The turning point, looking at Broxburn and the bings.

I hated that slog back home, the only good thing was ticking off the landmarks for the second time, because it meant I was a little bit closer to done for the day. The wind, now into my face, seemed to showing a bit more muscle, but perhaps that was in the mind more than the air. My soaking wet feet were very cold, a bit frozen, there are "cyclists dismount" sections and the walking was more than uncomfortable. My hands were very cold, my fingers got a little bit frozen, operating the brake levers was ahem interesing. I got cold, I should have stopped and pulled on my jacket. I was just too focussed on getting this thing over and done with. I got a bit light-headed and a bit wobbly riding, and I was moving very slowly. One very sprightly walker overtook me. I lost track of time a bit, my garmin watch had run out of charge already, but at last I made the final turn onto our street. I was spent, I dismounted and pushed a couple of hundred metres, such a small distance, but such an effort. I arrived at the front door a shivering gibbering mess. My frozen fingers were unable to undo my helmet strap clasp or my shoelaces ... God bless Mrs, she removed the helmet, and the shoes, and the sodden socks, she wrapped my shivering body in a warm duvet, and fed me hot tea and toast.

So, in the end of the day, I rode 38.4 fairly flat kilometres in about four hours, the first half slow by design, and very pleasant, the last quarter slow by necessity, and very unpleasant. I need to make some adjustments to this bike, I have a very sore posterior (figure out the solution later, more padding perhaps), and such a sore neck (maybe raise the handlebars).

Enjoy!