This wet Monday morning, I just know I have to get out on the bike. A weekend inside does not bode well for the moving blood and the moving spirit. And so, expecting rain, I head out into a balmy November morning, dry. I nip over the chasm that is the motorway and find myself in Beverly Hills (Dumbreck) where I catch the train at the wonderfully hidden and quiet railway station. It's still dry, but I know that I'm heading west (to Paisley) and chances are I'll meet the rain on the way. But, it's that train, that wee line that was shut up during the Beecham closures of the sixties, that is the lifeline. It catapults me straight from my gaff in Cessnock to Paisley canal. Not only that but Paisley Canal's railway platform links up with the Sustrans cycle path down to the coast, so there are no cars to negotiate at all. Sometimes, I head down to the coast, but most times I do a circuit which finds me in the hills above Bridge of Weir and Kilbarchan and back at Paisley Canal some two hours later. And what a circuit it is. A lifeline that channels life into you. Especially when it's raining. There is no better way to wake up the spirit!
Soaked but awake!
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