tales of the unexpected riverbank

The fates had strange plans for us on Saturday. After some analysis of the weather (cool with a strongish Easterly) we decided on a train to North Berwick then run back. To iron out the differences in our running Mary would take the road and I would take the beach and trails maybe meeting at Aberlady although the 2 miles extra of trails meant Mary might be a bit ahead which I would make up as we returned to Edinburgh on tarmac. Not ideal marathon training but a decent compromise. 

At the station Mary and I split up. She went off to Pret to get 99p filter coffees while I went to get the tickets. I try not to use the machines as they have stiffed me (or given change from a large note in small coins) on a number of occasions. I was rewarded for this by receiving the information from the woman selling tickets that the next 2 trains to NB were both cancelled due to Scotrail being a second rate outfit not fit for purpose. My words not hers. I should have been really grateful she had this information to hand (unlike the bastard machines which would have sold me 2 singles then sniggered as I went off to check which platform the cancelled trains were not leaving from,) however I left the counter in a sour mood.

We drank station coffees and went through options: run through town to North Queensferry? Catch the Dunbar train? We looked at the timetable and there was a train to Dunbar in 10 minutes. Tickets were bought. We would run West with the tailwind although a firm plan (possibly involving John Muir) wasn't decided at that point. The coffee was a big hit. The train was mercifully fast. (We felt sorry for those with a 10hr train ride to Penzance.) The plan formed to run to East Linton. I was pleased about this as we would pass a butterfly hotspot or 2 on the R Tyne. And it was on delightful trails. My marathon tarmac miles could wait.

swish new toilet block at Belhaven Bay

funfair mirrors aren't quite as good as Yellowcraigs

It's always fun to see the animals at East Links. Despite some vegan opposition (they're not keen that a working farm have the gall to operate as a working farm) public attendance always seems high, and the animals well looked after and happy.

woolly pig

Just before East Linton there is a stretch of riverside where lots of butterflies hang out. I'd warned Mary I may be dragging my feet here and she was either happy to have a wee break or just enjoying taking photos herself. I had previously thought it was flowering garlic (in amongst the nettles and brambles) lining the riverbank here. However it appears there is no limit to my ignorance and the stuff is the similarly whiffy Few-flowered Leak. Rather depressing to learn this non-native invader smothers and out-competes native species and is increasingly abundant. Oh dear. Also the nettles were making my ankles and shins (I was wearing shorts) shout and sing songs full of bad words. To add to this the Small Tortoiseshells were very jumpy and wouldn't sit for photos. The Commas were absent entirely and the Peacocks weren't much better. An unexpected treat was a Small White which I followed back and forth for a long while before it briefly settled for long enough to get an id photo.

Small White in flight

briefly sat down

although the day had started overcast it was blue skies by East Linton

We went to the coop in E Linton for a snack-stop. It was nearly too cold to sit for long at the fountain. We had Curiosity Cola (I think the makers were curious to see how much they could charge for a small tin of ginger-beer-like drink. Spoiler alert £1. And it was ok but not something I'd seek out.) And a Millionaires Tart (a melania in common parlance) which was pretty good and would not have been allowed by the sugar police under normal circumstances. (Anything under 20 miles.)

Just after we passed under the A1, I warned Mary we were in Orange Tip country. I saw one at the bend in the river but it neither landed nor stayed in the vicinity and I asked if Mary would have a seat at the handy bench while I stomped through the nettly Few-flowered Leek and tried to raise another. While accommodating this for a few minutes Mary wasn't super keen to hang about and after a short while suggested she run on and I catch up. I had a last scan of the area finding nothing then belted down the path, concerned Mary might take a different route and we'd become split up. However it is pretty much all just riverside path to Haddington and I quickly caught up. Worries that that was the only place where we'd see OTs were put to one side when we passed at least another 2 along the way.

Green Veined White

So we'd be running together and an Orange Tip would fly out in front of us.

I shout Whoa! and Mary replies she isn't a my-little-pony and wouldn't be doing any whoa-ing thanks, continuing running. I would turn around and follow the zig-zagging blighter until it either disappeared over the other side of the river and beyond distant fields, or settle, where I would tip-toe up, still gasping, and try to get a photo before the thing spooked and flew off again. Then I'd turn around and race up the trail (5.25pace on the Suunto!) to catch up and relate the episode to an indifferent Mary. This training strategy was identified by Billy Minto some while ago, and still bears his name: Mintervals.

I took these 2 or 3 pics last time as well!

There was quite a lot of caffeine and sugar-high inspired banter. And singing/shouting. Mary was in particularly inspired form, being less distracted by butterflies, and was coming up with book titles and also the vintage mash up I have used at the top of his page: Tales of the Unexpected Riverbank. She sold that to me for £2, which I took off her £5 debt for a poorly judged bet earlier in the week. Her book title for her memoirs (part 1) was The Things That Used to Happen in Other Places. Which seemed more profound at the time but maybe that was the effect of exertion into a strong sun for many miles continuously. 

fields of rapeseed were just coming into flower

The least expected sight of the run was at the weir just before Haddington. In place of the swans I had photographed last time, there was now a pumpkin treading water. It was hard to imagine how this had come to pass, and whether it was a good omen or bad.

nuthatch with fly

By Haddington there was the inevitable crash after all that malarkey (and sugar and caffeine) and the long miles were taking a toll. One of us got a bit cranky and the other realised that less speaking (and in particular less chat about butterflies) might go some way to keeping the peace. That policy was implemented and sure enough a bit of faster running with the end in sight was instigated. There are about 4 miles after Haddington to Longniddry and they were done quietly and swiftly.

I had noticed these path-side way markers but not taken pics last time. This time I tried to take photos of as many as I saw, while Mary focussed on raising the pace and knocking out a decent last 4 miles. The signposts are hinged on a bolt and an informative sign swings out when you lean on the top. I knew there was a butterfly one but couldn't remember where I had seen it and if we'd gone past it yet.

Nice to see someone has made an effort with this bench seat.

The butterfly post is the last one and nearest to Longniddry Station. When you push down on the top part it reveals something about the local butterflies with attractive graphics. I must swing out the other posts now I've seen how well they are done.

A less welcome sign was waiting at the station. More cancellations! Honestly, call that a service? Luckily the bus stop is nearby and we caught an express bus back into town which wasn't bad at all. A great trail run through some lovely countryside. Not ideal marathon training but I probably enjoyed it more as a result. And 5 species of butterfly! Hurray! Thanks Mary!

21 miles plus a couple up to the station and down from Abbeyhill.