The green woodpecker with dowsing stick at our first pitstop, St. Patrick's pool, just behind me. This is the beauty of these braes, not just the unpeopled aspect up here when you get off the beaten track, but the old growth trees, the lifeforms that inhabit and feed off them, and the myriad waterfalls and rivulets tumbling down them. I always 'baptize' myself here in this little pool, careful not to disturb the curious little creatures that live here. It is here too where I fill my bottle with the purest water in the whole of Glasgow.
Already, only a hundred and fifty odd metres above 'humanity', and the vastness of space is tangible.
The second pitstop: the waterfall of eventual bliss. Here, we go up, bow beneath the sacred waterfall (some people call it a 'shower'), and scramble up the left hand side to tier two.
The brae buzzard who lives in a treetop on tier one. He always says hello when I come up here.
Pitstop three: the swing of serenity. A ride on the SOS, especially on a dreary winter's morning, saves all our souls.
Pitstop four: into the hanging wood. So called because it hangs off the braes. It's pretty wild up here because of the general steepness of the braes. Indeed, once upon a time a few years ago I wrote of how sacred this wood is, because no-one can get to it with their tonka trucks and power tools, and the following year the first green woodpecker up here moved in. It's one of the few locations in teh greater Glasgow strath where you can hear it. In the three years it has been here, I have only ever seen it once flitting from one treetop to the next. They do, however, the green variety, like to feed on the ground too, so keep those jeepers peeled, as well as those ears, because it's the ears that will see it first.
The hanging wood in all its sublime misshapen grotesquerie.... Beware of symmetry (on grand scales like this), for it is not natural. It is here where you will stand your best chance of hearing/seeing the green woodpecker. Also, look out for treecreepers.
Looking west as we exit the hanging wood and start descending towards the Loch Humphrey path (which you can see eking its way up the braes bottom right).
Looking east towards the city. Coming back down to where we left the bike, at the bottom of this old lime quarry, which I now call the limerock.
About halfway up the Loch Humphrey path lies the gateless gate and the limerock. It is here where I tie up my metal hoss and embark on the hike part. Take a right along the grassy path from here, and we will return coming down from the left.
Looking down the Loch Humphrey path from the gateless gate. It's a five minute freewheel down to Kilpatrick train station from here.
A chemical train passing through Kilpatrick station. Right behind it, we can see, if we peer hard enough, the grey limerock and the hanging wood we have just hiked through.
In terms of views, Erskine Bridge has a few, and it's just above Kilpatrick train station. Normally, only one side is open for pedestrians and cyclists. The best side is the other side, the west side, looking out towards the ocean, and with a fine view of the K-braes which you can also see from its east side (where this pic was taken from) albeit in a slightly blocked state. With most cars absent because of the coronavirus lockdown, the Erskine Bridge is a hill in its own right.
And that's it. Naturally, I have variations on this route that I can use to extend it here and there (go up to tier three and four for instance, adding half an hour or an hour), but all told, the bike and hike is an hour or so, station to station. That quick, but man, does that sacred feeling last all day...!
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