Synergetics on the Back Roads

Synergetics, a term initially coined by the systems theorist and environmental activist Buckminster Fuller in the early part of the 20th century, is defined as the empirical study of systems in transformation. Elsewhere, it has been defined as 'the study of how nature works, of the patterns inherent in nature, the geometry of environmental forces that impact on humanity'. Personally, I like to think of it in more simple terms as the collusion of forces upon bodies. This synergy, for example, could be the wind and the rain combined with the pedalling power of the cyclist: two or more energies not just colliding with each other but collaborating together. It could simply be gravity and the weight of the cyclist and bicycle. It could be the power of one's own state of mind that synergizes the body's muscles, or indeed the way one thinks.

On this latter point, and since we are talking about energies working together, there is the matter of systems thinking: the process of understanding how things, regarded as systems, influence one another within a whole. This 'whole' (effectively an eco-system) is a matter of health (the words come from the same root, the Old Norse word 'hale', where we get 'inhale', 'exhale', and 'holy'). 'Everything that breathes is holy,' wrote William Blake once upon a time.

So, what's the point of all this?

Well, as a cyclist bodying forth through the world under his own steam (as an open-flowing-system), he gathers other energies along the way, moves through them, breathes them, embodies them. Synergetics is a matter of fact for the cyclist. He begins to see the world not as isolated fragments, and himself as a separate individual, but as a collection of synergies and systems into which he is ineluctably insinuated.

Through this dynamic of thinking connectedly, inspired (breathed in) by the simple act of moving, the idea of symbiotics arises, that of evolving not in isolation from everything else, but rather, in unison with everything else. The notion of 'flows' becomes apparent, as does the notion of forces. Indeed, all of physics (mechanics especially), when on a bicycle, is quite literally 'in your face'. One realises quite quickly when cycling that loneliness (as an expression of a divestment of synergy) is an illusion, and a mutation that has arisen from our outsourcing of our own vital energies to machines.

The magazine New Scientist once stated, not so long ago, that the most ecologically friendly thing that anyone could do would be to not breed. I would argue that whilst this appears to be correct, it also appears to have some dark overtones. I would suggest before this that getting on your bike (and reconnecting to your vital forces), might actually lead to a clearer way of thinking that would presuppose a fresh way of looking at conventions and societal norms, thus, ineluctably, leading to intelligent and sensitive responses.

Red legs and a cattle grid with Neilston Pad in the background.

Conversations at the Traffic Lights

 That's me & Pegasus on the right ;)

This would never happen in a car. But when two cyclists meet at a stop light it's perhaps inevitable that they will strike up a conversation. I've had two such encounters in as many days here in Glasgow. Yesterday, at the junction of Alison Street and Polloshaws Road where I commented on the ancient nature of my fellow cyclist's bike and we had a momentary chuckle at how 'it gets you there', and 'no need for any of this fancy stuff'.  And today, at the crossroads of Byres Road and Hyndland Road it was a guy in some of that fancy stuff who looked across and commented on the weather (as it had been raining for a while). I asked him how much his helmet camera was. A hundred and fifty quid he told me. Been knocked off his bike last year and the driver drove on.

Encounters like these are little reminders that cycling is complete openness, whether to other cyclists at traffic lights, or the rain and the elements, or boy-racers testing their delusions of invincibility. Indeed, one could argue that, more than walking, cycling has the added kudos of being a praiseworthy way of travelling which rivals the car and public transport for inner city commuting. You never know with a walker in the city whether their car is parked just around the corner. To be sure, cyclists have cars too, but not when they're out on the bike. Furthermore, there is, especially in a city like Glasgow which due to its precipitous (and precipitational) nature, cycling is not like it is in London or Amsterdam, Berlin or Stockholm. As such, there is an affinity between cyclists that you meet along the way. As I write this, I am in fact surprised at how few encounters I have with cyclists at traffic lights compared to say London where every set of lights appears to have a few cyclists hanging around. If I had to cycle in cities like London or Amsterdam I might not be so keen to share a few words with fellow cyclists at traffic lights, for then the experience would not be, as it is in Glasgow, so unique or quirky. Or responsive.

Whatever the case, I can see from the body language of onlookers that a pair of cyclists having an impromptu chinwag at the traffic lights is something quite special and extra-ordinary. The sort of thing that you would never see with two car drivers (unless it was howling abuse).

Pegasus the Wonder Bike

This weblog would be a little wanting if I didn't at least dedicate an entry to Pegasus the wonder bike, my trusty blue and yellow Cannondale which has stood by my side since I inherited it from my brother some 12 years ago. My brother had bought it several years before that, some time around 1998, which would put it at about 16 years old, which for a bicycle, some might say, is pretty old. I simply say that she is as young as the day she came out that handmade workshop. If you look after anything well enough, show it enough love and attention, time (as far as decay is concerned) struggles to gain a foothold, and this has been the case with Pegasus. I look after her, and she looks after me!

At around 7kg in weight, and made of aluminium, Pegasus appears to be a fitting name. That and the fact that Rabbie Burns used to have a horse called Pegasus. Poetry comes to those who move through the world and let the world move through them. 

So, here's to Pegasus, and to me (!), for we are a unit only together. Indeed, as a symbiosis, perhaps the bicycle can educate us as to the hidden connections that we are involved in yet do not see, and render us (an energy-profligate nation) more energy and eco-literate.

I am convinced from my relationship with Pegasus that if everyone cycled their way from place to place instead of driving, the world as a whole would be in a much better shape.

P-eigg-asus... heading down to Cleadale (On the Isle of Eigg looking across to Rum)

In the Russian Cemetery, Warsaw...

Atop Auchineden (The Whangie)

Millport Beach (looking across to Arran)

Pegasus & Haystack at Harelaw Dam

Cycling & Reading

Twice happy he who. not mistook, 
Hath read in Nature's mystic book.

[Andrew Marvell, Upon Appleton House]


There are many books and people who have inspired me to learn more of my habitat and the shires (Lanarkshire, Renfrewshire, Dunbartonshire, Stirlingshire, and Ayrshire) which surround and perforate the city where I live. Moreover, my own travels abroad have inspired me to discover more of the greater area in which I grew up and have a close land-relationship.

Many fellow travellers and champions of the local have confirmed what I have always intuited: that land and body are one, and that climate and mind are one. To be sure, now in the era of air-travel and speed, the idea of the local is soon dismissed. But it needn't be. 'Wonder, like charity,' writes Hugh McDonald in Rambles Round Glasgow in the 1850s, 'should begin at home.'

Anyway, these thoughts aside, here is a list of books that have engaged and inspired my own local cyclings around Glasgow:

H. McDonald, Rambles Round Glasgow in the 1850s

T.C.F. Brotchie, Some Sylvan Scenes Near Glasgow

T.C.F Brotchie, Glasgow Rivers and Streams

J.F. Anderson, The Country Houses, Castles & Mansions of Renfrewshire

J. Hood, The Country Houses, Castles & Mansions of Dunbartonshire

S. Hothersall, Archaeology Round Glasgow

G. Mason, The Castles of Glasgow & The Clyde

K. White, On Scottish Ground

R. Sutcliffe, Wildlife Around Glasgow

A. McIntosh, Soil & Soul

D. Semple, Joy in Living; A Free Man’s Philosophy

A. Cramb, Fragile Land: Scotland’s Environment

I.C. Lees, The Campsies and the Land of Lennox

D. Alexander & G. McCrae, Renfrewshire: A Scottish County’s Hidden Past

F.A. Walker, The South Clyde Estuary: An Illustrated Architectural Guide

E.B. Wilkie, 25 Cycle Routes in and around Glasgow

N. Shepherd, The Living Mountain

J. Dickson, The Wild Plants of Glasgow 

Butterfly Conservation Scotland, Butterflies & Day-flying moths of Glasgow

F.Mort, Dumbartonshire (also, Lanarkshire and Renfrewshire)


And many of the 'Old Glasgow' series of books by John Hood, Sandra Malcolm, et al.

These are just a fraction of the books that have formed (or perhaps, unformed) my mind. I cannot thank Glasgow City Council library system (and by extension, Andrew Carnegie) enough for some of the gems they have thrown forth. Equally, the 12 floors of wonder at Glasgow University Library, and the Glasgow Room in the Mitchell Library, have provided me with days of unfettered bliss in opening my eyes to the world and beyond. Also, the Heritage Centre in Saltcoats for providing me with two very hard to find books by Dugald Semple, and the collective libraries of Dunbartonshire, Ayrshire and Lanarkshire for just being there. A world without libraries is a world without world, and I consider myself more just a little fortunate for having been born into a country where libraries are still considered important.

That being said, and to paraphrase Andrew Marvell, Nature’s book itself, though at times difficult to read beneath the side-notes of man, is perhaps the finest ‘book’ of them all, and it's only by getting out there under our own steam, whether cycling, walking or crawling, with plenty of pauses along the way, that we will be able to decipher its cryptic and mystic messages.

Level 5 Glasgow University Library : Biology, Botany, Zoology.

Paisley Canal to Langbank via Kilbarchan, Quarrier's Village, Kilmacolm & Finlaystone Park

The first part of this route follows the Sustrans 75 from Paisley Canal Station to Kilbarchan. Here at Kilbarchan, just follow the high street up to the right (north) which will take us past the Weaver's Cottage and the Steeple to the road on the left marked beneath in green on the map. This quiet back road takes us towards Lawmarnock. Take the next right into Bridge of Weir where we can rejoin the Sustrans path until the Quarrier's Village cut-off. Take the little path into Quarrier's Village and then just keep to the green route marked out below.

The road from Kilmacolm to Finlaystone is beautiful. I didn't encounter one car on its short length. The first part up to the reservoirs is uphill though not too steep before sweeping down to Finlaystone House and its wonderfully wooded grounds.

The Weaver's Cottage (builded anno 1723 by Andrew & John Brydein) in Kilbarchan.

There are some wonderful old houses in Kilbarchan and a real village feel. This feel would be a lot stronger, and a lot more intimate if you didn't have so many cars running through the high street as if it were a drag strip. Personally, if I had anything to do with it, I would ban cars from the village with only local traffic and delivery vans allowed. Through traffic from Johnstone or Bridge of Weir would have to take the A761 which would not put them out of the way at all, and would leave Kilbarchan with its soul unscathed.

I do believe that T.C.F Brotchie when walking through Kilbarchan some time during the 1910s had a similar feeling towards the traffic which let's face it, would have been a lot less. He mentions this in his wonderful book Glasgow Rivers & Streams.

 

Just as Paisley had Tannahill, Kilbarchan had its own weaver poet, Robert Allan. The son of a flax dresser, Robert Allan was born in Kilbarchan in 1774. For most of his life he lived and worked as a silk weaver in the old part of the village known as Tounfoot. In the eighteenth century Tounfoot was a thriving community occupied by weavers and other tradesmen. It had a female school, a poor house and a Baptist meeting house. Tounfoot was demolished in the late eighteenth century and is now part of Glentyan Estate. Allan decided in his mid sixties to emigrate to America with his young son, but died six days after arriving due to a chill caught at sea. The monument here was erected by the Kilbarchan General Society in 1935.

Love Street in Quarrier's Village. 

William Quarrier was, as Alexander Gammie writes in The Story of the Orphan Homes of Scotland, 'one of the most remarkable men Scotland has produced', full of all the Scottish attributes of 'grit and determination, a sturdy independence, ruggedness and strength of personality.' Quarrier wasn't just 'one of Scotland's leading philanthropists, but also, in a wider sense, one of the Greathearts of history.' As a boy who grew up in the slums of inner Glasgow and was apprenticed out to a shoemaker at age 7 his rise to success and his responsibility for the redistribution of the wealth that he created is surely one of the tales that all our schoolchildren should be told. Here was a man that knew, in the words of another great Scottish philanthropist Andrew Carnegie, that to die with riches was to die in disgrace, and that with great wealth (or even a little) came great responsibility for its redistribution into the corners of the community that actually needed it, and not for the spurious pursuit of non-essential luxuries.

Much of the village has been sold off as private residences, but the Quarrier charity still owns most of the land and a significant part of the village itself. It is certainly worth a visit for its old world feel and beautiful pastoral setting, and to remind us that the rich and the wealthy (the financially successful) have an obligation and a duty to return this wealth to the community, and to the land that gave birth to them and nurtured them during their formative years.

Judging from the Union Jack hanging limpidly above Duchal House, I guess the Lord and Lady who live here all year round will not be voting 'Aye' come referendum day. Apparently, after talking with the owner of the little gatehouse cottage at the entrance to the grounds, the Lord & Lady are not too fond of people cutting through their 'garden', but do not be afraid, you have every right to do so regardless of the big 'Private Road' sign they have put up at the entrance. One of the great things about Scotland's right to roam is that there really is no such thing as private, especially when it comes to large tracts of land being closed off simply because the residents suffer from guilt and fear complexes. If anyone dares to threaten you then you can simply suggest that they familiarise themselves with the Scottish Outdoor Access Code. The bottom line is that you are allowed to go anywhere you want in this country as long as you conduct yourself in a responsible and respectful manner.

Duchal Houses itself, a home of considerable magnitude, dates back to 1768, and the route here past the front of Duchal House continues on a gravel driveway for another 500 metres or so to the gate (which was wide open incidentally). You then cross the main road and continue into Duchal Woods and past the Pinewood Trout Fishery. The path is a little bumpy but I will often get off the bike and walk through the woods so I can hear them and properly inhale all that coolness. It's a lovely path which, eventually, gently ejects you out onto the main street in Kilmacolm.

The idyllic Pinewood Trout Fishery in the peaceful Duchal Woods.

The Auld Kirk in Kilmacolm. The back road to Finlaystone is just on the right at Frank Munro.

The summit of the high road, now descending down to Finlaystone House and grounds.

Finlaystone House. The estate here is the patrimony of the Cunninghams of Glencairn, and was largely the work of John Douglas c.1760. However, the house did undergo some re-modelling between 1898-1903 by J.J. Burnet who added a loggia to the forecourt and a massively columned staircase hall. One of the windows of the library bears the scribbled inscription of Robert Burns' initials who was a guest here some time around 1790.

From the grounds of Finlaystone it's easy enough to get to the train station at Langbank about a kilometre away. Just follow the green route on the map above exiting the grounds to the north where the motorway is. Here there is a sliver of pavement which will take us the short distance east to Langbank station and the train back to Paisley or Glasgow Central.

All in all, arriving at Paisley Canal at 11.30am and ending up at Langbank at 3.50pm, the route took, with plenty of stops along the way, just over 4 hours. The perfect afternoon really :)

[For information regarding the country houses shown above see John Fyfe Anderson's The Country Houses, Castles and Mansions of Renfrewshire]

Pollokshaws West Loop via Duncarnock Mount

Today, the day of the Commonwealth Games Marathon, I decided to take off from the strangled city and head up to the sacred mountain of Duncarnock, a classic crag and tail landform created by the flow of glaciers coming down from the north. I cycled through Pollok Country Park again to get to Pollokshaws West train station where I took the train up to Barrhead. Here, the backroad up towards Neilston is a beauty and really gets the blood flowing. Indeed, this whole route (as short as it is) is hills, hills, and more hills. And of course the views from most of these hills are impeccable.

Just follow the quiet road round (the dark blue line on the map ignoring any reddish lines!) to Craigton Farm and enter here following the path and then over the field towards the trig point at Duncarnock Mount. It's a great approach as you make your way through what appears to be an erratic field of boulders. And then of course you have that view. It's no surprise that this was a major hill-fort from ancient times.

The little waiting room at the train station was jamming! South-west community cycles are based here and you can hire bikes at the station.

 

The classic north face profile of Neilston Pad which, if you're standing at the top of Crow Road or halfway up Byres Road, will reveal itself to any keen seers.

The crossroads at the top of the world. Just a mile or so from Neilston the whole valley opens up. The entrance to Snypes Dam is just on the left.

Duncarnock Mount, the classic form of a crag & tail, showing the flow of the glacier that created it (here, from north to south)

An erratic boulder and limousin cow in the field approaching Duncarnock.

Coffee at the top of the world! (The trig point of Duncarnock)

Awesome!!!! Note where the light is ;)

The road back down to the city is all downhill. It is the B769 which we access at Newton Mearns. It is a great little road, all the more so because of its slight downhill gradient, passing Patterton, Thornliebank and Pollokshaws West train stations. Since I live in Cessnock, I just cut through Pollok Country Park and over the motorway and I'm home. I estimated that the road back from Duncarnock to my home took me less than half an hour... Quite amazing really!

Howwood to Langbank via Bridge of Weir & Barscube Hill

From Howwood train station follow the line marked in dark blue up towards Lawmarnock and around to Barnbeth on this quiet little detour to Bridge of Weir. Coming down into Bridge of Weir there are some old world villas that might make your eyes pop out for their size and renovations. From Bridge of Weir it's a case of cutting across the main road and taking the road past Gryffe School into the quiet 'leisure lanes' of East Renfrewshire. From here, it's quietness all the way to Langbank. Just follow the route marked in red below. There is also the option if you're feeling energetic to scale the smallish Barscube Hill from whose summit the views across the estuary to Dumbarton are impeccable, not to mention the views east and west. At Langbank there are regular trains to Paisley and Glasgow Central which we can catch.

There's something quietly idyllic about the back roads of Renfrewshire. I'm not quite sure what it is that differs this particular shire from the likes of Dunbartonshire or Lanarkshire, or even Ayrshire. Maybe it's the various ridges and saddles of the land themselves as they eke out their paths down to Lochwinnoch, down to the estuary, and up above Paisley. The land here rolls like no other, and there is always this deep temporal sensation (to accompany the deep spatial one) of glaciers gliding oh so slowly across this land. Maybe it's the beautiful little villages that dot the land: Kilbarchan, Bridge of Weir, Quarrier's Village, Houston.... or maybe it's just the utter serenity that accompanies these back-roads and aptly named leisure lanes, a serenity that allows your involvement in everything else. In other words, a peacefulness so peaceful that you lose yourself to the moment and momentum, and, for the duration of your journey, (though it may seem paradoxical to say so), enables you, effectively, to step outside of time.

Outwith this temporal pressure, there is a levity that energizes and moves the body without the body having to try. Otherwise put, if these hills weren't where they were, I would hardly make it to the tops of them.

The 'Temple', just north of Howwood on Kenmuir Hill, was used in the past as an observation post for tracking white deer.

From Howwood (hollow wood) follow the back-road up past Crossflat Farm on towards Lawmarnock. Just after Lawmarnock take the next left which will take us round to Barnbeth House and its lovely gardens, a rural country mansion built with shipping money by W.G. Rowan in 1914. The road swings past the golf course (plenty of benches here for taking a rest and admiring the views!) into the low-level housing of the Clevens area of Bridge of Weir, a sort of antithesis to the bourgeois Ranfurly district. From here, it is a very steep downhill into the village itself.

St. Machar's Church and pine flavoured grounds in Ranfurly, Bridge of Weir. Almost Mediterranean! Again, however, with the church and the terrace being so close to three intersecting roads, the aura of the area is slightly spoiled by the speed, noise and pollution of cars, trucks and all the rest.

The small village of Bridge of Weir is a tale of two halves. On the south side of the old railway track (now the sustrans cycle and walkway) is the village proper, and on the north side is Ranfurly with its collection of rather fetching villas and townhouses. The village itself owes its origins to the cotton mills that grew up on the banks of the river Gryffe between the 1790s and 1840s. Ranfurly is more recent due to the railway line which offered Glasgow businessmen the opportunity to get away from the pollution and congestion of late 19th century Glasgow. 

The railway line first reached Bridge of Weir from Johnstone in 1864, and it was soon thereafter that many of Ranfurly's elegant villas were built. In 1871, to offer an incentive to those building a home in Bridge of Weir, The Greenock & Ayrshire Railway Company granted annual rail tickets at half their season ticket price for a period of seven years.

At Castle Terrace in Bridge of Weir, formerly The Ranfurly Hotel (1882, Robert Raeburn), a couple of young cyclists set off on what looks like an all-day trip.

A lovely modern loch-side cottage next to Haddockston House.

The ungainly yet quite magnificent Barscube Hill. The views from its humble summit are amazing.

Looking from Langbank station across the Firth of Clyde to the Kilpatrick Braes.

The Country Houses of Renfrewshire: From Paisley Canal to Bishopton via Houston & Barochan Hill-Fort

Having recently read the wonderful book The Country Houses, Castles & Mansions of Renfrewshire by John Fyfe Anderson I thought it was time to see some of them in the flesh so to speak. The route starting from Paisley Canal follows the sustrans cycleway until just after Linwood where we branch off onto the country lanes into Crossless and Houston. From Houston there are some lovely back lanes to take us up towards the kirk and the exquisite Houston House and grounds. The route is not a long one, maybe 10km or so, but the back roads and just the sense of the bucolic and pastoral this near to Glasgow is what makes it. There are a fair few woods this way too so plenty of shade if you happen as I did to be out cycling on the hottest day of the year (the day of the 2014 Commonwealth Games opening). All in all, another epic route, with only a few meetings along the way, mostly with pleasantly peaceful people or animals, and the odd tractor.

Take the right fork for Bridge of Weir, Kilmacolm etc..

Leave the cycle path for the road at Lochermill and head for Crosslee & Houston.

Another lane, Quarry Brae in Houston, which has been left to its own devices, and is now blocked to pollutive traffic.

The epic Houston House, recently refurbished and split into half a dozen apartments. Part of this grand manor may be as early as the 16th century, but the grandeur according to Frank Walker's Architectural Guide to Inverclyde & Renfrew is 'all Victorian swagger'. Most of the house dates from the late 1800s built to designs by David Thomson. 'Thomson's Baronial gathers the disparate pieces into a picturesque composition that culminates in a 77 foot tower rising above the entrance'. It really is quite an unexpected sight.

Peter's Well and guardians...

The owner of Barochan House, according to his mother who kindly let me in to take a few pictures, has barricaded the extant route with a steel gate preceded by these warning signs, fed up as he is with a 'lack of privacy'. I did mention to his kind mother, as politely as I could, that if you live in a castle or historically significant country mansion, maybe you should expect a few visitors from time to time. And I'm not entirely sure of the legality of such a move like closing off an existing road without providing an alternative right of way. That being said, the mother could not have been more accommodating in allowing me in and drving me around the estate.

Barochan Farmhouse & Courtyard

The renovated Barochan House (the ancient sea of the Flemings) which has been added to since its original inception. The owner, according to his mother, 'always wanted to live in a park'.

Barochan Hill - just cut across the field and up the hill and then down to the left avoiding the conifers at the top to the quarry which will spit you out onto Reilly Road which will take you round the back of the ordnance site. Near to this lane here is where the Celtic Barochan Cross was found and transplanted to Paisley Abbey.

These cows thought I was going to feed them, and when I didn't they all bolted as if they were horses![Taken from the summit of Barochan Hill which used to house a hillfort. Note the unglamorous hump of Barscube Hill on the left horizon, another hill with attitude not altitude and a worthy excursion at any time of the year for its wide sweeping views over the estuary and across to Dumbarton and beyond].

Cows galloping!!!! Marvellous. [The Kilpatrick Braes are in the distance].

Passing by the Royal Ordnance site behind Bishopton. It's all very sealed off.

From Reilly Road looking north to the Kilpatrick Hills

The Mill-House of Formakin Estate. When the stockbroker J.A. Holms came here in 1903 only an old meal mill and a few farm dwellings existed. Within a decade Holms and his architect Robert Lorimer (and the builders) had transformed the scene adding gardens, gate lodges and stables, and a large mansion house. Everything was conceived in the purest Scotch I`ve ever done as Lorimer put it, and built to the highest standards of craftsmanship.

Gatehead

Just by Whitemoss Farm at the junction with the Old Greenock Road

Another short road converted into a noise and pollution free corridor for those who prefer to move under their own steam...

Follow the Old Greenock Road down to the main drag and then follow it for another 1km or so to the train station.  It's one stop to Paisley Gilmour Street which carries on into the city centre, but you can get off and cycle the 1km between Gilmour Street and Paisley Canal if you did as I did and started off from Dumbreck.