Return to Canal Land and Detour with NO Directions
Day 13 Hiking. Wednesday, June 15.
Another volcanic plug - Dunglass.
The Strathblane Hills behind me.
Jessie! Why there is this 2.5 foot high cut out name here is a mystery? But it reminded me of our Jessie who recently had a birthday. Happy year ahead Jessie Freeberg!
Laundry day again. Slightly different colors than last week.
A sign nearby referred to this as a Cotton Mill.
Local man on a bike stopped and apologized for the closure of the John Muir Way for a 5 mile section for repairs, for a month. There was a sign that told of the closure and an the alternative route should be taken. But, there was no suggestion of what that other route might be. Asked a few people and finally just followed the road to Kirkintilloch which had a narrow sidewalk the entire way.
Ladies Room at McDonald’s.
McDonald’s quarter pounder. It was good and filling, no dinner needed tonight. Plus I could sit in comfort. And clean toilets. No regrets.
Hands went goofy. Raynaunds phenomenon.
Grounds crew tending the shrubbery.
Cows vs bird. Forth and Clyde Canal.
Walking in the same direction as most hikers points out how slow I am. They pass me quickly. Feel like a tortoise. Or else the Old Lady on the JMW, with gimpy joints.
There are ruins of a Roman Fort up in the hills. It was built in 140 AD. The northern frontier of the Roman Empire. I Really wanted to go up there. But the hill was the height of Rib Mountain from the bottom up, and I felt the knees were just not up to dealing with the stress of the terrain. Decided to save the body for the rest of this long walk, rather than see something and then realized I can move at all. Sad to realize again the heart might want something, but the body says NO. Getting old 🫤 👎
Downtown Kilsyth.
On the wall in my room.
Who still wears trousers that need to be pressed like this? Seems like something the valet in Downton Abbey would take care of.
Stuff organized. Stuff getting used to being crammed into ziplock bags. Everything knows where they ride during the day and practically jump into their assigned positions.
School kids going home. Uniforms standard for all.
How to dry laundry after the Shower Stomp.
Kirkhouse, Strathblane to Coachman, Kilsyth.
13.5 Miles. 32,466 Steps. 7 Hours.
Another volcanic plug - Dunglass.
The Strathblane Hills behind me.
Jessie! Why there is this 2.5 foot high cut out name here is a mystery? But it reminded me of our Jessie who recently had a birthday. Happy year ahead Jessie Freeberg!
Laundry day again. Slightly different colors than last week.
A sign nearby referred to this as a Cotton Mill.
Local man on a bike stopped and apologized for the closure of the John Muir Way for a 5 mile section for repairs, for a month. There was a sign that told of the closure and an the alternative route should be taken. But, there was no suggestion of what that other route might be. Asked a few people and finally just followed the road to Kirkintilloch which had a narrow sidewalk the entire way.
When I came through here last week nothing was noticed of the path needing to be replaced. It was on this stretch that I met the lady who worked at the funeral home. Guess I sort of hope to have another chat with her.
Ladies Room at McDonald’s.
McDonald’s quarter pounder. It was good and filling, no dinner needed tonight. Plus I could sit in comfort. And clean toilets. No regrets.
Hands went goofy. Raynaunds phenomenon.
Grounds crew tending the shrubbery.
Cows vs bird. Forth and Clyde Canal.
Walking in the same direction as most hikers points out how slow I am. They pass me quickly. Feel like a tortoise. Or else the Old Lady on the JMW, with gimpy joints.
There are ruins of a Roman Fort up in the hills. It was built in 140 AD. The northern frontier of the Roman Empire. I Really wanted to go up there. But the hill was the height of Rib Mountain from the bottom up, and I felt the knees were just not up to dealing with the stress of the terrain. Decided to save the body for the rest of this long walk, rather than see something and then realized I can move at all. Sad to realize again the heart might want something, but the body says NO. Getting old 🫤 👎
Downtown Kilsyth.
On the wall in my room.
Who still wears trousers that need to be pressed like this? Seems like something the valet in Downton Abbey would take care of.
Stuff organized. Stuff getting used to being crammed into ziplock bags. Everything knows where they ride during the day and practically jump into their assigned positions.
School kids going home. Uniforms standard for all.
How to dry laundry after the Shower Stomp.
Watched a program on Sky Arts, like, The Great British Bake Off, only this was about amateur artists having 4 hours to paint a portrait of a celebrity sitting in front of them. The event was held at Battersea Park. Portrait of the Artist or some title like that. Peace of mind is They were broken down into 3 groups. Same style of competition as the ‘bake off’. There was a live audience. Professional artists acting as critiques who wandered between the easels, asking questions and offering their opinions (distracting). “Artists you have 5 minutes left”, pressure is on. “Please put down your brushes and step away from your easels”
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