When I run, I always regret not having a camera since the park is so scenic. St. Anthony's Chapel is one of those neat spots I pass and think, "Damn, that's sweet. Wonder how I get up there?" Last night, realizing I had no class today (thank you, Friday), I decided to find out.
I woke up this morning at 8 to a typically overcast day. Normally, I don't trust the weather in this town, but I really wanted to take pictures of the ruins, so I grabbed the North Face jacket and camera and headed out in a light mist.
Well, light mists tend to turn into steady rain around here, and before I was halfway around the park, my jacket was dripping. I'd come that far, though, so I figured I'd soldier on. It was still raining when I took the first turn off the main road to get my bearings. This wasn't the correct road, of course - that would be too simple - but at least I could see the ruins, so I returned to the road and found the little trail off St. Margaret's Loch.
By now the rain had ceased, but the trail was steep, rocky, and muddy, and as I'm not the greatest hiker in the world, I wondered how I was going to get back down. Fortified by the odd blackberry, I worked my way to the top, then spent a few minutes being touristy around the chapel. According to the sign, St. Anthony's was built in the 15th century and probably stood 40 feet high at one time. Today, all that remains is one corner of the building, but it makes you appreciate just how old this city is. There were also great views from the top.
Mission accomplished, I made my way down in fits and starts, stepping ever so carefully and grabbing the rock whenever I could. It was very graceful. I'm glad the only things around to see me were the massive flocks of birds in the lake below.
About these birds: there were the usual pigeons, seagulls, and ducks, Edinburgh being on the water and all, but the lake is also home to a ridiculous number of mute swans. (As any alum of Indian Springs knows, a vast congregation of swans is known as a "murder," while a single swan is known as a "homicidal maniac." Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.) These swans were oddly well behaved, occupying themselves with preening and harassing the ducks, and I passed unmolested. This wouldn't have happened at Springs.
Along the way back up and around the mountain, I stopped to take random pictures of the scenery. Heck, I had a camera...
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