Each time I come back from these 'outings' I feel as if I am more self-aware than ever, as if I know my self (that greater Self that co-arises with all things) that little bit more intimately. I'd always wondered since a young age how one got to know oneself since it seemed by all the great civilizations to be the one imperative that would cast out all others.
Well, here's the answer, and it is really quite simple: know your territory. As many wise minds have elucidated (scientists included), the organism and its environment evolve so closely that they may be considered as a single evolutionary process.
The problem today is that we think we can know our selves simply through a fact-based techno-science which offers us statistics ad nauseum, and manufactures identity from the outside in. Consequently, everyone believes themselves to be unique or somehow more special than the next guy leaving the way open for all sorts of conflicts and chest-puffing. If people united themselves with the land that feeds them more often - explored the local not by car but under their own organic steam - the case of 'mistaken identity' that afflicts so many of us in the wasteful west would fall away leaving what is in fact the true and beautiful, and wonderfully naked, Self.
Anyway, enough meditating, and on to the trip for today: Newton to King's Park via the epic Dechmont Hill and the monk's fort (Carmunnock). Again, I have decided to combine the bike with the train, since (a) the trains are so comfortable, empty and reasonably priced, and (b) it offers another perspective on the city, travelling through these often hidden arteries, and (c) I ain't getting any younger! and a little help is much appreciated.
Waiting for the 11:53 to Newton.
Maxwell Park train station, an ancient idyll in its own little vale, is almost an extension of the park itself. All I could hear this particular July Tuesday morning whilst waiting for the train to Newton was the sound of birds and a light breeze whispering through the trees. Some of these stations were originally built in open country which might explain the bucolic aura and the almost rustic appearance of these charming chalet-style buildings.
This slender path on Manse Brae (between Hallside and A724) used to be a country road - it has now been closed to car traffic, and is a dedicated cycle/walk way. I often think that many of Glasgow's back-roads (no longer needed by car traffic due to bigger roads and motorways) should be closed to cars and left to wild out like this.
The stunning view from the summit of Dechmont Hill (with Gilbertfield Castle and Flemington Farm in the foreground).
When you get up here, (there is a rocky path all the way to the summit from the road through Dechmont Farm), the aperture across the whole of the midland valley is astonishing. Here, perhaps more than any other hill around Glasgow, is the nearest highest (186m) mount from which to gain an overall view of Greater Glasgow. At barely a couple of hundred metres high, it is simply amazing how much this seemingly small height can open up a landscape. Indeed, one could argue that the higher you are the less fascinating the view is since it distances you even more from some of the interesting details. Here, and especially if you have a decent pair of binoculars, you can take to the north face where there is a greywacke perch of sorts and chart the whole city and its environs all the way up to the highlands and all the way down to the coast. And then, maybe, you will feel like shouting out what the Swedish writer and painter August Strindberg was apt to say:
I am everywhere, in the ocean which is my blood, in the hills which are my bones.
Or indeed the British scientist Andy Clark:
It may be wise to consider the intelligent system as a spatio-temporally extended process not limited by the tenuous envelope of skin and skull.
It is up here, on these perches - timed out, spaced out - that ones get to thinking - real thinking - through the act of not thinking. One becomes so cleared out (from the climb and the view) that pre-fabricated thoughts can't get any purchase on the mind. They just slip off, leaving the absolute bodymind the possibility for original thinking (thinking that originates within you and it is not superimposed from the outside).
This return to the source (as opposed to a fragmented, out-sourcing existence) necessarily confides a solidarity with all things. Indeed, one can now claim to be being, unadulterated and uncontaminated from the outside.
Highflat Farm between Rogerton and Carmunnock.
Out here on the backroads, sometimes it looks as if we've taken a wrong turn and we're headed right into someone's back yard. Earlier when approaching Dechmont Hill you literally have to walk/cycle through Dechmont Farm (there are no signs telling you of this awesome hilltop). Don't be shy though, you have the right to roam wherever you please in this country as long as you go responsibly. Moreover, the farmer here is perfectly amenable to people coming through his farm.
Maxwell Park train station, an ancient idyll in its own little vale, is almost an extension of the park itself. All I could hear this particular July Tuesday morning whilst waiting for the train to Newton was the sound of birds and a light breeze whispering through the trees. Some of these stations were originally built in open country which might explain the bucolic aura and the almost rustic appearance of these charming chalet-style buildings.
This slender path on Manse Brae (between Hallside and A724) used to be a country road - it has now been closed to car traffic, and is a dedicated cycle/walk way. I often think that many of Glasgow's back-roads (no longer needed by car traffic due to bigger roads and motorways) should be closed to cars and left to wild out like this.
When you get up here, (there is a rocky path all the way to the summit from the road through Dechmont Farm), the aperture across the whole of the midland valley is astonishing. Here, perhaps more than any other hill around Glasgow, is the nearest highest (186m) mount from which to gain an overall view of Greater Glasgow. At barely a couple of hundred metres high, it is simply amazing how much this seemingly small height can open up a landscape. Indeed, one could argue that the higher you are the less fascinating the view is since it distances you even more from some of the interesting details. Here, and especially if you have a decent pair of binoculars, you can take to the north face where there is a greywacke perch of sorts and chart the whole city and its environs all the way up to the highlands and all the way down to the coast. And then, maybe, you will feel like shouting out what the Swedish writer and painter August Strindberg was apt to say:
I am everywhere, in the ocean which is my blood, in the hills which are my bones.
Or indeed the British scientist Andy Clark:
It may be wise to consider the intelligent system as a spatio-temporally extended process not limited by the tenuous envelope of skin and skull.
It is up here, on these perches - timed out, spaced out - that ones get to thinking - real thinking - through the act of not thinking. One becomes so cleared out (from the climb and the view) that pre-fabricated thoughts can't get any purchase on the mind. They just slip off, leaving the absolute bodymind the possibility for original thinking (thinking that originates within you and it is not superimposed from the outside).
This return to the source (as opposed to a fragmented, out-sourcing existence) necessarily confides a solidarity with all things. Indeed, one can now claim to be being, unadulterated and uncontaminated from the outside.
Out here on the backroads, sometimes it looks as if we've taken a wrong turn and we're headed right into someone's back yard. Earlier when approaching Dechmont Hill you literally have to walk/cycle through Dechmont Farm (there are no signs telling you of this awesome hilltop). Don't be shy though, you have the right to roam wherever you please in this country as long as you go responsibly. Moreover, the farmer here is perfectly amenable to people coming through his farm.
The hills and windfarm behind East Kilbride, Eaglesham et al.
From Dechmont Hill it is possible to clamber down its north face and down to Flemington Farm and Gilbertfield Castle, or, if you prefer, follow the red route on the above map off Dalton Road to Flemington and Gilbertfield before clambering up Dechmont's north face. From Dechmont then the route continues on quiet country lanes through the village of Nerston and across the busy A749 towards Rogerton and Carmunnock. There is another opportunity here to see a castle, this time East Mains tower house (now a privately owned residence) which is just to the south of Nerston. [For more information on castles in and around Glasgow check out Gordon Mason's wonderful book Castles of the Clyde Valley]. Otherwise, continue on through these empty back roads to Carmunnock (the fort of the monk) and onwards (and downhill!) through Castlemilk and King's Park to the train station.
A lone crow observing the national speed limit ;)
The lovely village of Carmunnock spoiled slightly by too many cars racing through it (in spite of the bypass).
The way back via Castlemilk. It's all downhill from Carmunnock!
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