lamm and cock

On Sunday Mary was in a Hitler-black mood. However a large high pressure over the whole country looked promising so I trod eggshells (as much as feasibly possible) and we ended up heading to the Lammermuirs for the short but scenic route round Hopes Reservoir and over Lammer Law. I christened the trip "the Great Snake Hunt episode 2", a sure way of jinxing any possibility of catching snakes sunbathing up the hills. When I say catching....

Iain and Janis during their 59mile ride.
Had to nearly run them down to get their attention!

After a couple miles of tarmac it is off-road and into the hills. The forecast had failed to spot the wall to wall blue skies all afternoon having predicted cloud cover with bright spells!

I had been thinking we would check out swimming potential but M was not inclined.

On the last Gt Snake Hunt, Steve and I failed to find any snakes although we did come across an entire shed skin about 15" long. Just after I took the photo above Mary stopped towards the top of the wee rise and called me to catch up quick. I belted up the climb to find the only (four-legged) snake of the day. You can find these lizards in the Pentlands as well but they are rare and I only see one or 2 a year. So a great find and they are super-cute. This one hadn't warmed up fully and although skittish it would stop long enough for a photo. I was reluctant to handle it as it looked like it had already grown back it's tail and I didn't want to risk further damage.

As we went round the next corner I was saying to Mary that there were a load of bee hives here on a previous occasion and that Graham H possibly knew who they belonged to. (Other than the bees.) And hey presto there they were getting the benefit of the wonderfully purple flowering heather all around. You can see at the edge of the photo Mary didn't hang about but I got in close for a couple of photos and the bees were really filling the sky and all doing that dance at their front doors letting others know where the good stuff was. It was buzzing!

Then onto the big sustained climb. I noticed M seemed to be attacking it well and she said afterwards it felt really good. Her mood was improving greatly. I was going to say it would be impossible to be here and not be delighted by the day but then I remembered a dour looking c-you-next-tuesday hiker who passed us just after the lizard incident, who struggled to find the courtesy to return our cheery hellos. I should have kicked his shins for him.

The surroundings were just fabulous and I was finding it hard to contain my enthusiasm, taking several hundred photos. Just as well I hadn't had a coffee or I might have transcended.

We normally take the right hand path here; the direct trail round the shoulder of the hill and back down to Blinkbonny Woods. However it was so pleasant we went left, up to Lammer Law summit.

Mary was holding the camera up portrait style (the legacy of the iPhone) and I suggested she use landscape instead (because it fits the format of the monitor/website that those of us not addicted to silly small hand-helds will use to view quality photos on) and she said so be it, producing the above photo of a beheaded tyrant. Very amusing.

small tortoiseshell wearing winter pyjamas

Mary's mood had improved to the point where I could risk cranking her up by flying alongside and taking photos of the shadows.

sprint down the last hill to the van

huge numbers of swifts/swallows/house martiny birds here

phew just as well he turned off that could have been arghhhh....

After squeezing past this combine we went to a cafe in Haddington for a snack. (I was looking at the full scottish breakfast and about to enquire if they did it all day when Mary ordered a scone and coffee and I felt I had to eat less than my own body weight in sausage, bacon, beans and chips etc. and reluctantly settled for a bacon and brie roll. Could have eaten about 5 of them.) Then we went down towards the coast for a swim. On the way, more harvesting deja vu. If you want to know what it would be like inside and right beside one of these giants while it is at work click here for Bruce Mathieson's excellent wee video.

So we drove down to Gullane with the wet suits in the back but never got swimming. Yes we were a bit bushed from the run but it was more the surroundings. We paid the £2 ticket at the car park but sat in the van unable to work up the enthusisam to go for a dip. Most off putting was the family of assorted lowlifes nearby who were peppering every sentence with f-words and when they eventually left (without wanting to sound too much like Panto Katie Hopkins, was one really called Chanelle?), they left a circle of litter round where their car had been. Irn Bru bottle, chip wrappers and pair of shoes. Scum.

We drove off disheatened. On the way home Mary opted for the coast road and I asked if we could pull in and do a photo shoot of Cockenzie before they blow it up. It was still blue skies and ideal for some photos. Mary got bored and returned to the car after 5 mins. I was there for half an hour trying to fit in the giant spectacle by doing panaoramic sweeps with the camera. There is a fence all the way round and security inside so you are limited. But given I will prob be busy on the 26th (2 Breweries hill race) it was good to get some close ups before it all comes down. The chimneys look as if they will fall relatively easily, but there is a massive amount of internal structure still in the turbine hall that I find hard to believe will be easily levelled with explosive charges. 

Icon or eyesore? 

Something Battersea Power station about this? 

For me the place is so iconic. I have been taking photos of the 2 chimneys for years now, sometimes filling the frame, sometimes as just a couple of blips in the background a long way down the coast, and it will be sad to see them gone. They are the 10 mile markers for coastal runs and can be seen easily from most points on the journeys we take along the coast. However, close up they are pretty ugly, albeit in a spectacularly industrial way. Last few weeks to appreciate them before they are gone and I enjoyed this opportunity to say goodbye, close up. 

Cockenzie Power Station
Opened 1967 (5 years younger than me!)
Decommissioned March 2013
Blown down midday Sept 26th 2015

musselburgh reclaimed

On Saturday Mary was still not over the cold and cough bugs she has had for a while now. Too much work and stress and not enough down time at the weekends. She suggested a run at Gullane but it seemed daft to drive all that way for a short run if we weren't going to swim afterwards. So we drove to Musselburgh. It is some time since we did the 5 miler round the lagoons and that seemed about right. It was pleasantly mild and the long grasses looked like they were going to take over after a summer of regular watering.

We parked at the quayside then ran along the coast, over the bridge and round the back of the lagoons. It struck me that given the exclusion zone on the 26th (midday) for the demolition of Cockenzie Power Station this might be a great place to set up a video camera to record the chimneys coming down. (I will probably be at the 2 Breweries and Mary is elsewhere but can lend equipment (cameras/tripods) if anyone wants to record it.)

We were enjoying the run so much that when we got to the usual turn around point Mary was happy to continue and extend the run, then come back round the other side of the lagoons which no longer seem to be lagoons. They appear to have been filled in, presumably with more ash from the power station, and are now like martian wastelands with the local vegetation just beginning to get a grip in the grey soil.

We then had a look at the ponds near the racecourse with a view to swimming. Difficult to know whether they are deep enough. Although parts were a bit clogged with algae and pondweed it looked possible although not as enticing as some other venues. On the upside, parking nearby and not unpleasant surroundings. I have heard they were tested as fit for swimming a while back.

Between the pond and the Esk the overgrown grasses and bushes in the bright weather were more wild looking than I had remembered and the place had more of the feel of an untamed moorland than just a couple of fields beside the racecourse. We both really enjoyed the run and there seemed to be plenty more paths for exploring if you were keen. On the way back to the car we couldn't resist a shot in the kids play area.

Mary's Downfall

Mary - like the whisky, specially aged

Carnethies Jim and Graham had been planning some sort of booze fuelled run along the lines of last September's Equinox Run. On hearing Mary L was turning 40, this was held up as the celebratory theme and a number of brave souls opted to meet at the Steading at Hillend last Friday. We would run up to the summit of Allermuir from where we would metaphorically play out the remainder of Mary's destiny by going "all downhill from here" to Leith. Stopping at hostelries along the way. 

Jim - mostly to blame

never stray from the path

we got up Allermuir just in time for sundown

some of the congregation.
(receiving the holy water)

it's all downhill from here

I was loitering at the back as the scenery was improving by the second

Jim went to shout on Willie and Helen who had gone that-a-way

I was in danger of getting left behind taking photos. And then I remembered I didn't know which way the team were going and reluctantly ran down the hill towards Swanston/Bonaly to catch up. Everything was bathed in a magical light with the sun just breaking through the clouds and the heather a rapturous purple. 

Mary took this photo of me and the purple heather. I had put on a few more layers than usual as I thought we might be standing around up hills more than we actually were. Haven't worn leggings this season until now and they were prob overkill. Felt they might be more suitable for traipsing into pubs.

Next port of call was Nasherspoons - Graham's house where a superbly crafted cake was consumed and potent Gin and Tonics. Jim had presented us with (ironically) "drink aware" plastic cups at kick off and we carried them with us to be filled at various stations along the route. 

this photo does not do justice to the superb cake.

Bit of a gap here because we hit a heavy shower of rain. I also hit the ground and wasn't sure whether it was the G&T or my foot catching an unseen snare. I went down like a sack of potatoes and was surprised I didn't do any damage. (We were all wearing headtorches.)

I was about to say this was the first pub (the Murrayfield Hotel) but as Ian is reminding me it is the second as we had a drink in the Steading before setting off.

next stop St Bernard's Well. 

As EdinburghGuide.com points out: "the few visitors that jump the shut iron gate into St Bernard's Well are usually imbibing something stronger than the legendary mineral water sourced from this area over the centuries... They are not kidding. I think we may have seen off the local jakies being far louder and more obstreperous. Jim had given me a screw-top bottle to carry and at this point we decanted what turned out to be Taylor's Port into our no-longer-drink-aware cups. Also Sean shared round scones he and his daughter had made earlier. He is not from here so was calling them biscuits although I missed the full explanation if there was one.

Earlier in the evening I had messed up my schedule. I had suddenly realised I'd have to get a bus or 2 across town - right across town from Leith to Hillend and that this would take about an hour. I usually cycle everywhere and since Hillend is only 40 minutes away I left things a bit late setting off. So didn't have ample time to follow the advisory notes about lining one's stomach before. I ran out the house eating a slice of bread and jumped on the wrong bus into town (the number 10) I watched the right bus (the number 4) drive off into the distance. In frustration I jumped off the number 10 and ran along Princes St, up Lothian road and Bruntsfield, being rather displeased to note the number 10 was travelling alongside for much of this run. Eventually I caught a number 5 in Morningside that looked as if it was travelling in the right direction, although as soon as I sat down it hared off to Oxgangs. I was tempted to get off and race it up the road. But eventually we arrived at Hunter's Tryst leaving me with less than a mile to run to the Steading. The point of this is I was well ready for something to eat at St Bernard's Well and the cheese and jalapeno "biscuits" were outstanding. 

And they would have been the highlight of the night had Matt not produced onion bhajis that eclipsed even the scones. I stuffed handfuls of both into my mouth and washed it down with port. Hog heaven!

We then ran to Warriston cemetery or rather to where the cycle path crosses the cemetery. Cocktail hour! Into our well rinsed glasses we poured mystery bottle number 2 and then got a squirt of squirty cream and a glacé cherry. You cannot say this was not a classy outfit. The taste, strangely familiar and yet, ...obscure? Last year the mystery guest turned out to be Buckfast Wine. More welcome this year, though from the same bermuda triangle of the drinks cabinet, was Malibu and Kahlua: I forget the name, something like a Jailed Somali Pirate, or a Slow Comfortable Stroke. Anyway it was the best cemetery cocktail I've ever had.

nicer than it looks (but only just!)

Each time we set off was proving more difficult and the pace slower. There were a lot of laughs none of which I can recall. It was an intoxicating evening and I have a feeling there might have been more pubs than I have remembered here. Oh yes, the Blue Goose(?) used to be the Tickled Trout on Slateford or Lanark Rd where you cross to the Water of Leith Centre, I forgot to mention that. We had a pint there. And I should mention the dude playing guitar in the Murrayfield Hotel who was gifted - I rarely enjoy live music but he was keeping the volume down and the quality up, choosing great tracks, well known but a bit off the beaten track, and doing good interpretations of them. Even to an audience of windswept muddy bedraggled sweaty intoxicated runners. 

birthday girl

From somewhere deep inside I knew that if I went to the intended pub in Leith I would be jeopardising the whole weekend. With a good sense I failed to find in my teens right through to my forties, I left and got home before midnight, wobbly but not ruined. I flopped into bed and 4 or 5 hours later addressed fluid and thirst issues while necking a couple of paracetamols, then further sleep and by morning I was remarkably good to go. I think I got off lightly compared to some and really enjoyed the evening, revisiting certain things (pubs and cocktails and onion bhajis) that I don't regularly enjoy. Big thanks to Jim for organising and getting in the drinks (and running the last few miles with pockets jangling full of boozers change!) 

Happy Birthday Mary! Here's to the next 40!