Monday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

top 16
January 2012
Walk

Hartside Hill and Clints Hill, Scottish Borders

Length

6 miles

Dogs on walk

Brooklyn, Dylan, Jolie, Lucas, Maggie, Solo, Tim

Cold, crisp, clear, frozen, sun and blue sky. That was today. The hills looking large and detailed in the clear air. Dusted with white as though ready to be cut and served. Both Hartside Hill and Clints Hill topped by masts that could have been cake candles ready to be lit. On the solid ground we set off to climb them. Brooklyn sporting a natty green bandage to protect his broken dew claw. More to protect it from his searching tongue than the elements I suspect. I had already had to reposition it in the car. An unusual quietness alerting me to something not right. Turning in my seat and there he was licking and prising. Needless to say his bandage lasted little over a mile and then it was gone. I searched but even though the grass and heather were white the green bandage was gone. As usual he was full of energy and found very able accomplices in the shape of Jolie, Tim Lucas and Maggie. Maggie finding some real turns of speed to rush through the heather taking them all by surprise. Solo in a jaunty mood today watched but did not join in. Shying away as Tim made and unlikely attempt to get him to play.

Dylan led us up the twisting track through a sea of whiteness. The grass bent under the crystallised ice. Reeds ram rod straight like bleached out negatives. The frond like ends of the pine trees branches tipped with white as though posing for a Christmas card. Many trees there were, all the way round Hartside Hill. From time to time their teasing ripple in the gentle breeze like a call to the dogs. Drawing them closer and almost into their dark clutches. Only my lone voice breaking the spell and keeping them out. The frost thickened as we climbed. Coating everything heavily with shard like diamonds of ice. Brooklyn irrepressible, co-ordinated the fun and when there were no takers just ran about by himself. It was not until we had covered the track on Hartside Hill and made our way onto the less defined track across the wide ridge of Clints Hill that Dylan really sprang to life. Taking over from Brooklyn he soon had all but Solo giving him chase across the whitened heather. Stark against the clear blue sky and its long views toward more bleached hills and nearer to us the slow graceful turns of several wind turbines looking much closer than they were. As we headed back toward the green swathed Hartside Hill Lucas began to fall in behind me. But Jolie was not having it and kept coming back to push him onward. Tim had found himself at the front and was tumbling down the hill much faster than the rest of us. That is until Brooklyn and Maggie spotted his attempt to get away and beat a path after him. The temperature remained well below freezing and my exposed chin testified to it. Very cold to the touch and quite numb. The dogs paws did not seem to be fairing badly. Or maybe that was why they were running so much. Anyway they certainly tired themselves out. The car was quiet once they were all back in, only the occasional gentle snore from one or two of them as most settled down for a kip. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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Tuesday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

top 17
January 2012
Walk Dogs on walk

Strolling toward Penicuik Archie, Dylan, Finlay, Gina, Solo, Tim

Length

6 miles

Welcome back Archie after his badly cut paw had kept him off for a week. Today his first day without his bandage. A lot of responsibility on both of us! The advice from AnneLouise, his owner, was to try for a walk with not too much underfoot that could cause it to open up again. We headed for the railway walk from Rosewell to Penicuik. A very good track with a relatively smooth surface and little in the way of debris. He was not as mad as I thought he would be, having been restrained for nearly two weeks. Although Gina jumping about him did get him to raise his game. He did seem a little more circumspect than normal or was that just me keeping a closer eye on him. It would not do to have any more damage with his owners about to head off for a month. Tim too was a little quieter today and him and Archie were often behind where they found Dylan skulking about at the edges of the track. First in the long grass as we wound through fields and then by the bushes as the track slipped into a cutting. Finlay was not waiting for them and was away. Solo all wagging tail not far behind and Gina now running back and forth not knowing where to settle.

We passed two more retrievers making for quite a sight as they all jumbled together. And then it was toward the River Esk cutting its way deeply through the end of Roslin Glen below us. Finlay spotted two deer their white tails the giveaway. He just stood and watched them making no attempt to get through the fence as they bobbed their way across the scrub grass down into the shallow glen. I had already called him and he looked at me as if I was mad to think he was going to go after them. None of the others had noticed and so we strode on toward the high bridge over the river and the tunnel burrowing below a small hill. Gina made valiant efforts to get Tim to play and succeeded at times and so to with Archie. But it was an effort for her. Solo kept a brotherly eye on her and quite often the two of them were walking together midway between me and Finlay. Archies paw was holding up even as he got more active running heartily back toward us after falling behind with Dylan to sniff another fascinating patch of ground. Through two tunnels and our path now followed the river. Finlay seeking a way into it with Solo hard on his heels. Gina and Archie joined them down the fifteen foot soil bank. Further on at our turning point there was an easy access to the river. As it swung around it had long ago carved out some flat ground with a very gentle slope now into the river. It was Solo who ran there first. Turning and looking back urging us to follow him. We did. Solo, Finlay, Tim and Archie all went after stones. No one quite swimming as it was not deep enough. Gina getting braver around the other dogs with water joined them briefly. Dylan just lazed on the bank waiting patiently for us to move on again. We left the track to follow a path beside the river and through a field. The fallen barbed wire making me worry, but all got around unscathed. We were joined by a man as we passed the remains of Rosslyn Station. He had recently moved back from Seattle. Now settled in Rosewell only a few hundred yards from his parents house where he grew up. He accompanied us back to the car making some new dog friends on the way. So much so that Dylan almost went with him. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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