Well, that went well !

Regular readers will have been in suspenders since the depressing Backward step post.


The more perceptive among you may have spotted that the blog has been deficient in the Leg ( one in front of the other, alternately, in an upward plane) Department since then, and has been padded out with a higher than usual quotient of childish persiflage
There was some suggestion that the fatigue, breathlessness and tight muscles might have been cardiac related, however it turned out to be a nasty respiratory infection.
Lo and behold, it appeared to be clearing up just as we got into a spell of decent weather. And so it was that yesterday, at the crack of noon on a gorgeous sunny Spring day, I set of to see where I would end up.No transport, no plan, just out the back door and through the village where I grew up, and to which I have returned like the salmon or the elephant

This little park was, apparently to have been the site for the erection of Cleopatra's Needle. (No kiddin'!). You see a little patch of grass - I see an eight year old boy turning away in triumph, single arm raised with the hand gripping the cuff of his top after slamming an unbeatable shot between the piles of jumpers.

The Fountain of Nineveh

Presumably shipped over in a quinquireme! Somebody paid for it to be put up to commemorate something that must have seemed important at the time. So it goes.

This used to be part of the school playground

You see a bit of wall - I see three painted stumps and an eight year old boy, transformed by the passing of a season from Denis Law to Len Hutton, slamming a tennis ball for mighty sixes with a piece of shaped skirting board

The bridge across the Allan Water here was a toll-bridge, and this is one of the support pillars for the old toll bar

Wolf's Hole Quarry

Much of the village was built with sandstone from here. They also found some very rare fossil fish (Cephalapsis) and, close by some fossilised fragments of the tuberous root of a plant of the family Solanaceae.

And then up into the Mine Woods.There are paths all over the shop, but at this time of year you can just wander where the fancy takes you.

You're never very far from one of these in Scotland

Aw. Shame.

Dunblane nestles in the centre of the picture, with the ever lovely Braes O Doune wind farm back right and Ben Vorlich/SAC back left.





What did the paternalistic Victorian mill owners ever do for us ?

Looking over the reservoir to the start of the Ochils

These gates seem to everywhere these days !

Bike Track

Coming down off Black Hill

There were a couple of cars in the carpark with rather shifty looking couples in them, but I'll leave the dogging to Mike and Ken

The Boys are back in town !

This is part of the old coffin road to Logie Kirk - one of the places where I had an "Ice9" problem during the Freeze.

And so back down the hill to the house and a refreshing cup of gunpowder. About 6 miles, about 900 ft. Exactly what was required.

P.S  I have been friggin about for ages trying to manipulate text and images here.I understand there are better alternatives to this Blogger crap, so I shall investigate. "I may be some time"