Alan, Davie, Jimmy, Johnny, Paul, Rex & Robert
Sunny and early-spring-like
Old Munroists never die, they simply pass their peak. It is well know that mountaineers have a keen sense of direction honed by many long years of practiced navigational skills. So how come they can get lost in the city?
We gathered - eventually - at Speirs Wharf on the north-east side of Glasgow for what was to be a flat walk along the canal bank. Despite the forecast and the promise of the morning, it looked as though we would get rain for a heavy shower could be seen scudding across the city and a few spots hit us. But this was the last we were to see of it and the day was passed in early spring sunshine, albeit with a cool breeze. We wandered casually along to Port Dundas, the end of this spur of the canal. This eighteenth century industrial area has been preserved beautifully. Though the canal carries small pleasure craft instead of commercial barges and the warehouses are now flats, the character of the district has been maintained. And the canal manager’s house is intact. A few minutes were spent here before the onward trek was continued.
The canal sits high on the north side of the Clyde valley and afforded us some superb views over the city. Paul set about capturing this with the camera. When we stopped for elevenses the view extended to the hills on the other side of the estuary, the Renfrew Heights. These heights became a topic of conversation. It was they we were on a fortnight ago when we did the Greenock Cut.
Wildlife became the topic after coffee for we were now in a rather untidy part of the city and the birds of the canal took our attention. Goosander, tufted duck, moorhen and mallard were the main waterbirds. Magpies could be heard chattering, and were occasionally seen, amongst the stunted trees. Jimmy gave us a nature lesson as we walked. (No quivering leaves spotted today!) The group split into two when we saw the heron standing among the reeds. The advanced four “missed the craggy heron nabbin’ puddocks in the segs”, well, fish actually. But the second party watched intently as the bird stalked its prey, ‘nabbed’ it and had a small fish for elevenses.
The multi-coloured houses were commented upon and opinion split as to their merits but the majority was positive. Paul was delighted when we found Partick Thistle’s ground at Firhill and added this to his collection of photographs of football grounds. The cormorant drying his wings in the sun was also photographed. Then we came to Stockingfield Junction and the Forth & Clyde Canal. This was to be followed for the next part of the walk.
We were now on the north-east of the city passing through the suburbs and the growing spread of new housing. Then we were into the country by Possil Marsh Nature Reserve and enjoying the warmth of the February sunshine. And we weren’t alone. Joggers, walkers and cyclists took advantage of the day. A group of local worthies, gathered in a sheltered spot, exchanged pleasantries but never offered to share what was in the bottles. Police cadets from the college ‘fartlecked’ their training run to an end. And everybody and their dogs seemed to be alive to the day after the dead spell of a wet winter. Lunch was taken in a sunny spot at the edge of a small wood at Bishopbrigs.
The return journey was the reverse of the outward. The same ‘worthies’ greeted us again. Yet again there was no offer to share the bottle. I doubt whether the offer would have been accepted in any case but it’s the thought that counts. Stingy auld sods. The return seemed to take less time than the outward journey and we were back at Stockingfield before we knew it, a kestrel hanging in the sky at Possil Marsh being a highlight. A casual walk took us back towards Port Dundas. Then the competitive in the group upped the pace for the final sprint. Childish, I call this. Johnny beat me!
A different and interesting walk. It was suggested we might like to try this on bikes some day and it might be interesting to travel further along the canal.
PS Pinted in Fenwick.
Sunny and early-spring-like
Old Munroists never die, they simply pass their peak. It is well know that mountaineers have a keen sense of direction honed by many long years of practiced navigational skills. So how come they can get lost in the city?
We gathered - eventually - at Speirs Wharf on the north-east side of Glasgow for what was to be a flat walk along the canal bank. Despite the forecast and the promise of the morning, it looked as though we would get rain for a heavy shower could be seen scudding across the city and a few spots hit us. But this was the last we were to see of it and the day was passed in early spring sunshine, albeit with a cool breeze. We wandered casually along to Port Dundas, the end of this spur of the canal. This eighteenth century industrial area has been preserved beautifully. Though the canal carries small pleasure craft instead of commercial barges and the warehouses are now flats, the character of the district has been maintained. And the canal manager’s house is intact. A few minutes were spent here before the onward trek was continued.
The canal sits high on the north side of the Clyde valley and afforded us some superb views over the city. Paul set about capturing this with the camera. When we stopped for elevenses the view extended to the hills on the other side of the estuary, the Renfrew Heights. These heights became a topic of conversation. It was they we were on a fortnight ago when we did the Greenock Cut.
Wildlife became the topic after coffee for we were now in a rather untidy part of the city and the birds of the canal took our attention. Goosander, tufted duck, moorhen and mallard were the main waterbirds. Magpies could be heard chattering, and were occasionally seen, amongst the stunted trees. Jimmy gave us a nature lesson as we walked. (No quivering leaves spotted today!) The group split into two when we saw the heron standing among the reeds. The advanced four “missed the craggy heron nabbin’ puddocks in the segs”, well, fish actually. But the second party watched intently as the bird stalked its prey, ‘nabbed’ it and had a small fish for elevenses.
The multi-coloured houses were commented upon and opinion split as to their merits but the majority was positive. Paul was delighted when we found Partick Thistle’s ground at Firhill and added this to his collection of photographs of football grounds. The cormorant drying his wings in the sun was also photographed. Then we came to Stockingfield Junction and the Forth & Clyde Canal. This was to be followed for the next part of the walk.
We were now on the north-east of the city passing through the suburbs and the growing spread of new housing. Then we were into the country by Possil Marsh Nature Reserve and enjoying the warmth of the February sunshine. And we weren’t alone. Joggers, walkers and cyclists took advantage of the day. A group of local worthies, gathered in a sheltered spot, exchanged pleasantries but never offered to share what was in the bottles. Police cadets from the college ‘fartlecked’ their training run to an end. And everybody and their dogs seemed to be alive to the day after the dead spell of a wet winter. Lunch was taken in a sunny spot at the edge of a small wood at Bishopbrigs.
The return journey was the reverse of the outward. The same ‘worthies’ greeted us again. Yet again there was no offer to share the bottle. I doubt whether the offer would have been accepted in any case but it’s the thought that counts. Stingy auld sods. The return seemed to take less time than the outward journey and we were back at Stockingfield before we knew it, a kestrel hanging in the sky at Possil Marsh being a highlight. A casual walk took us back towards Port Dundas. Then the competitive in the group upped the pace for the final sprint. Childish, I call this. Johnny beat me!
A different and interesting walk. It was suggested we might like to try this on bikes some day and it might be interesting to travel further along the canal.
PS Pinted in Fenwick.
1 comment:
Brings it all back.
Super.
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