Up the hill past the waterfall Trippn thru bracken and gorse Fireweed lines the path Thru moss covered dense dark wood, no remorse
201m above see level, when shall I stop? Nettles coarse my legs as I step up over stone n roots Mist and dew cling to me As I clamber up the wood with climbing boots
220m now I think I see the top? The viewing seat beckons But the top is not the top And more steps needed I reckon
240 m now I see the top Views of Calandar town appear I can see 200 miles maybe more perhaps to England Heathers blossoms like veneer
245m I'm there My heart rate peaks at 170 beats per minute Scottish history below me Time to descend and create some more
Poetic notes from a fell run up the hill in the Scottish town of Callander near Stirling