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

Thou, dishonorable Highlan' skellum,
Thy dreary whunstane shall not see again!
Nor thy unworthy Clan Banner,
Yet my Blade!
Yet my Blade!
Gleaming here, owre,
At auld Stirling Bridge,
Wi' fiery bluid imbued,
Graving still deep mirk stane,
Under yon Steel Glare
Ne'er to wane!