Corlick Hill and a Lesser Known Balcony Trail. Off the Beaten Track.

                                     ALL PHOTOS CLICK FULL SCREEN.

 

All last summer of 2023 we motored past Corlick Hill in Alan's car heading for other hills in the area. Corlick was missed out as it didn't look that impressive, being just a smooth grassy slope with a track running up it to an invisible summit out of sight. With a multitude of better looking small hills to bag it was only when we'd climbed them and seemed to be running out of hill walking options that Corlick Hill was considered. How wrong could we be... it turned out to be a five star day out. 

 

Although situated in a vast expanse of high moorland beside the Gryffe (or Gryfe on some maps) Reservoir my pocket guidebook claimed it was a fine viewpoint and an airy summit with a circular descent possible via said reservoir back to the car. A few hours duration.

This part of Inverclyde is wild and empty, as shown here.

And the path up the hill was an easy to follow track before turning into a grass path just below the summit slopes, as seen here.

A small wind turbine park of around a half dozen poles sits close to the summit, which was another thing putting us off it.

 

If you could ignore them views were impressive...

 

Moorland Empire.... Unfortunately it was a very murky grey, dark day looking inland over Inverclyde and the higher ground only amplified that effect.

 

 

The path descending to the Gryffe Reservoir looked even murkier and as we'd both cycled down it before on a bike tour years ago I decided to skip that for something else.

 

Three notice boards beside the wind turbines gave us some insight as to past uses around the hill.
 

Including a Roman Fortlet on the moor, and lights laid out on the hillsides to confuse German Bombers flying over looking for targets during the Second World War....

 

Not always successfully obscured from planes.

 But the highlight of this walk occurred when, instead of going down towards the murky depths of the Gryffe Reservoir we descended in the opposite direction, marching over trackless boggy slopes to end up overlooking the three Inverclyde towns of Port Glasgow, Greenock and Gourock.

 

A much better view directly above Greenock with a container ship getting ready to depart. We were both very impressed with this 'human drone' view. And the weather was better as well, some blue sky and brief sunny intervals appearing once free of the higher moorland murky summits.

 Which reminded me at least of Arthur's Seat views above Edinburgh but far less well known or frequented by walkers.

 It turned into a fantastic level balcony trail, with further interest out to sea as we followed the departing container ship's progress down the Clyde estuary.

 Guiding container ship tug and sugar boat wreck in this one.

 The sugar boat's upturned hull which we reached in Alan's boat last summer. A long way out once you arrive there in the dead centre of the Firth of Clyde.... sitting in a rubber ring.

 

I also had much earlier memories of the Inverclyde towns when I met two sisters from this district who spent time between Glasgow and here in the mid 1970s due to various family commitments.  Like many teenagers of that period I had a burning desire to travel down to London, lemming like without really thinking it through in practical terms, as all the best music and creativity seemed to come from there at that time. No idea what I was going to do for money once I arrived though so an invitation to visit this area instead was a preferred compromise as I'd already started an apprenticeship in Glasgow and only had selected weekends free. I had two very memorable back to back 'summers of sunshine' down here so they definitely saved me from being yet another runaway to the big city by offering me a different world to explore with them instead.

 

 

All the first seasons experienced down here as an impressionable teenager proved wonderful though... far better than London. For a start I had two pretty tour guides showing me around...(something I've never had since then. Wah! ) In winter the surrounding mountains plastered in snow meant this seaport could be anywhere in the world, Scandinavia, Alaska, Iceland.... our own vivid imagination filled in any gaps in the narrative... and we had great music coming out every few weeks to keep us entertained. Bolan, Bowie, Roxy, The Velvet Underground, Slade, Sweet.... actually a better time than the 1960s for us. Television in colour for a start. Music press and magazines around so we could follow said bands. Not so many old time acts hogging Top of the Pops, the 1960s boasting numerous examples of ancient relics of vaudeville or music hall concerts we had to sit through for one prized act suitable for teens taste but often two or three cool bands on at a time every week by the mid 1970s.  

 

Greenock's Titan Crane viewed from the slopes of Satan. 

 

James Watt College in Greenock. Now called West College as part of a larger extended group of buildings in the region.

 

 

As you can see from this photo the terrain is not that hard to walk across but being pathless few people do. We often did in the mid 1970s as that was one of the highlights of arriving down here... climbing the various ridges and small hilltops overlooking the three towns in every season. Even under six feet of snow and building basic igloos. My first real mountain day trips...

 

You can go as high or as low as you like yet the route still comes out at the start of the path below Corlick Hill. A belter of a walk. I did eventually get down to London but by that time I'd changed my ambitions and my interests, preferring to search for something tangible instead... rather than just an illusion....but only on weekends or holiday periods, learning that much bigger Metropolis the hard way... exploring one district at a time over two decades of trips.
 

 

And here's a very different take on nostalgia. Not all roses by any means back then.... but being young it was exciting.

https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x7xd4g7