Friday 13 August 2021

Dumbarton Rock Walk. Part Two. Musings.

 

                                                   ALL PHOTOS CLICK FULL SCREEN

The second half of our coastal walk through Dumbarton found us on waste ground heading for Dumbarton Rock and Dumbarton FC. Although I found the new housing in the previous post interesting I liked this stretch more as it was full summer and any 'waste ground' is never wasted by nature which usually reclaims areas discarded like this as her own lost child within a few short weeks. One day she will put her arms around me and I'll return there as well.


 A study in pastel here. Although I like bold primary colours in the main there is something extraordinarily beautiful and delicate in the softer, muted shades of pastel. As ever, nature perfected the technique of working in pastels first, long before any artist.

 


 

Clematis flourishing in the wild.


 Woodlands of the imagination.



I was keen to show Anne and Belinda Dumbarton Rock. The castle was shut due to covid or scaffolding work, not sure which, but it was the rock climbing walls I was more interested in. Don't know if it's the same for everyone but chapters in my life tend to be marked by outdoor activities rather than work or relationship related bookmarks. School years, college, before and after London. the Munro bagging years, the rock climbing years, the backpacking years, the coastal walks and kayaking years ( an enjoyable but necessary choice after knee damage sustained through 25 years of increasingly heavy rucksacks) the central belt sunshine and hedonism years (another deliberate move after decades of rain, wind, and mist on the mountains most weekends and an increasing desire to do exactly what I wanted for a change in fine weather instead of the majority vote compromise required in any group situation... which was nearly always hills, hills, mountains, mountains or hills... in poor or indifferent weather. ) Although I've had a wide variety of different jobs over the years most of my pleasurable moments have occurred away from work, in my spare time, giving the best memory markers, although looking back, sometimes they do seem like they happened to another person entirely as I have a habit of trying many different things, given the chance. If I'd had loads of money and friends less obsessed by hills I may have indulged in many more sports. Wind surfing, sailing, longboarding, European city exploration, collecting different countries and exotic cultures, living abroad to experience all that...living in different cities... a vast collection of exotic girlfriends in my phonebook :o).....the wish list is endless...or maybe not- just a matter of luck and the opportunities you get in life... but I've done alright for a kid from the council schemes. No complaints at all.    



  "show us your best moves then." they demanded with a smirk. I had to admit that even 30 years ago in my flexible prime Dumbarton Rock was one venue I never wanted to get far off the ground, after an early scare.  Six to eight feet was desirable on the boulders or the sea level traverse but anything higher than that brought out a strong sense of impending doom due to natural polish on the basalt and the level of the grades. I did get up onto the biggest boulder, seen here, a few times by various routes then promptly slipped on the summit first time out. Luckily it was completely flat where I fell as my feet went without any warning and I landed painfully on my back, legs in the air. Falling off it completely in any direction would have been really serious as the ground is covered in smaller rocks, hidden by vegetation but still sticking up like a covered over animal trap.. The fact that I'd slipped so suddenly on what was essentially flat ground, even with climbing shoes on to aid grip, demonstrated the bar of soap properties of the rock here and put me right off going any higher. The three notable classics of the crag... Stonefall Crack HVS, Longbow E1, and Desperado HVS on the cliff behind the boulders all seemed harder than the grade implied as they felt vertical and strenuous in the extreme for a V.diff to VS climber like me. And that was the easy stuff here. I did like the sea level traverse around to the castle railings though and the general situation of the place. How long have the boulders rested here? One thousand years? Since the last ice age? And how long will they continue to sit here, above or below the waves? Another million... or until another cataclysmic event moves them further or wears them down eventually into dust. Even stone immortality succumbs at some point down the line.This rock has been a defensive fortress since the stone age: will these hard glacier resistant boulders outlast the twilight of humanity to experience other earthly creatures clambering over them in the far distant future?  I would not bet against it.


 Sea level traverse around the base of the cliff.



The main face holds the hardest routes that only elite climbers attempt, boasting some of the UK's hardest rock climbs so we rarely observed anyone on them during visits. Overhanging and comparatively long routes in the high E numbers put most people off.

Maybe it's because the protruding cliffs/rocks in this area were scraped clean by glaciers in the distant past but the dense compact surface and sloping holds, clearly seen in this photo, do little for the confidence in achieving upward progress.

That and the fact that if you did get to the top of the route the way down was rarely obvious, either by dubious abseil or a steep descent on grass above vertical cliffs. Other climbing venues, like the Hawcraig, The Whangie, Auchenstarry,or Craigmore felt relatively safe, well used, and almost friendly. Dumbarton never did.... yet I liked the scenery around it.



Next up was a small wood which has been touched by covid, The human variation of it anyway.


 I suppose if you have children keeping them amused and occupied indoors and out over the past year would have been a challenge and some of the efforts on display had an almost pagan element I liked. For some reason I thought of Dougal and the Magic Roundabout here.

 Anne thought this one looked like a forlorn stood up bride, holding a bouquet of flowers. Aw.

By this stage the weather was changing with a storm coming in. It was turning grey and overcast with a breeze appearing, sounding the various wind-chimes with a mournful tinkle. Previously, I've been a bit contemptuous encountering all this extraneous tree decoration everywhere, most of it poorly done or haphazardly thought out but this felt different. Most of it was fairly artistic, the area was devoid of people, and after a year hanging up this stuff had more of a feel of an art installation or a witches cottage in a remote area rather than just assorted tat. 

Home made house.


Pagan offerings.


The stuff of dreams...


 Happy cow.



The woodland realm....


 Best pals  hanging out together...



After this interlude we continued along the coastal path...


Following the River Clyde estuary upstream as far as the right hand side of this photo... 

 


By this time a light drizzle was starting to sweep in but the last three months have been unusually dry and sunny so we welcomed it's cool reviving touch and it made us realise how fortunate we are to live in a country with normally cool temperatures and abundant rainfall.


Eventually the path, which had been good up until now, split in two with the larger branch leading under this railway bridge. People over six feet tall might have to crawl through here but I just managed it bent double, head, back, and bum touching the underside of the concrete.


 this path led us up an arrow straight lane to the edge of the houses in Dumbarton. Given enough energy you could easily carry on here into the Dumbarton hills and woods of the Overtoun House Estate via a hole in the wall just to the left of Strowan's Well Road next to Gruggies Burn, which you follow upwards through the trees, (the hills and woods seen above) but we were getting knackered by this point and the rain was increasing.

 

So we finished off a great day with a taste of Italy instead. A multi pack choice of this plus seedless grapes, dates, sliced kiwi fruit, boiled eggs, and chicken breast which all went down rather well. Thank you good companions.


 








6 comments:

Carol said...

That's why I generally walk alone - then I can do whatever I want! I'm not great at fitting in with others really.

That traverse of Dumbarton Rock sounds nice but the rest doesn't sound or look it. I've never been into bouldering - with having fairly brittle bones, I never thought it was a good idea for myself.

Anabel Marsh said...

Rock climbing has never held any appeal - to out it mildly - thoigh John did a bit in his youth. Hedgehog Hamlet made me smile.

blueskyscotland said...

I'm a bit that way myself Carol, especially as I get older, but groups have always been a fantastic part of my life as well. All through college, Munro bagging, alpine holidays, island hopping, so many great adventures with groups and it's where I've made most of my friends.... and hopefully new future friends once covid 19 lets us meet up again.

blueskyscotland said...

Hi Anabel,
It was not a natural choice for me either as I'm not that fond of heights but several good friends did like it so I followed suit. One thing about rock climbing (or any dangerous sport) is that it makes you feel alive more than any other pursuit. Thinking you might not survive the climb, even at my pitiful level, really gets the adrenaline flowing.

Rosemary said...

Did you watch the deput of speed bouldering in Tokyo? The constestants appear to be able to hang onto the smallest projection to pull themselves up.
I am also more than grateful for our temperate climate, it is really frightening to see so much of southern Europe on fire, California, and Siberia too.

blueskyscotland said...

Hi Rosemary,
No, I didn't see much of the Olympics at all. One thing about rock climbing outdoors is that you really get an appreciation of rock itself- the different types and the fantastic architecture of big mountain cliffs, squeezing into cracks, caves, bare open walls, and climbing slender pinnacles yet every type of rock completely different in the way it reacts to heat, rain and ice to create amazing shapes. There really is a poetry to it that only rock climbers ever get to see up close, finger-hold by finger-hold.