Glen Quaich

I'll get this blog going with a poem I wrote after a ride through Glen Quaich, from Kenmore to the Sma Glen. I say 'ride' but the first mile or so involved a strength-sapping push - the road is pretty damn steep. From then on the going's great, untl you hit the hairpin.

Glen Quaich

Screaming down Glen Quaich

in a blue-gold rush of bracken, rock, sky

until all the eye knows is the glimmering weight

of Meall Dhearg floating above Loch Freuchie

like a vast bird

you hit the suicidally tight hairpin

between the cairn and the bridge

thanking Christ Almighty

the hand remembered when to brake.