Monday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

To 13
August 2012
Walk Dogs on walk Hartside and Clints Hill Length 6 miles

Dylan, Jolie, Maggie, Lucas, Tim, Struan, Talaidh

We are back and there was a group of dogs raring to go. With a quieter start to the week Struan and Talaidh could wind down from their holidays with a jaunt out with the others. A promising sunny day was soon eroded as we headed out into the hills on the edge of the Scottish Borders. Low cloud had dropped onto the hilltops. Stark outlines of the wind turbines like shadows penetrated it. The mast atop Hartside Hill not visible at all. But blue skies promised a good day, we hoped. Down the track we wandered and through the gate onto the gradual climb up the hill. Soon the dogs were panting as the heat and the climb began to work on them. Not enough to hold Jolie back as she teased and tormented both Lucas and Tim. Maggie in her darker coat began to slack a bit but just as I was about to encourage her on she would up her pace and begin to draw level again. The light green of the pyramids of trees rose from the darker heather creeping low beside

the track. Heather that was full of enticing smells and the occasional bone or other unpleasant thing. I had to be on my toes to keep the dogs in check. Talaidh the one trying to sneak back to some rather more interesting finds. Of greater interest were the two young deer we stumbled across once out of the trees and crossing the moorland ridge onto Clints Hill. They did not know which way to go. At first caught in indecision they stayed still. Looking at us. We were all standing still now looking back at them. Then they decided to make a break for it. Heading up the reminder of the hill but changing their minds and crossing the track. Struan and Dylan made as if to follow but stopped as soon as I spoke to them. Having crossed the track the young deer looked confused again and stopped. All heads were turned toward them waiting their next move. Finally the raced down the hill toward the safety of the trees surrounding Hartside Hill cutting lonely silhouettes against the skyline. We headed on to the top of the hill only a short distance away and circled the stunted communications mast. A meccano weave of metal making a slim jacket studded with satellite dish buttons. It spoke to us in the wind which had blown up. Whispering noises which made no sense. The wind bringing a slow but steady drizzle with it. Yet all around the sun seemed to shine. Back on Hartside Hill into the long avenue of trees standing back from the track the rain eased but the humidity took its toll. Strands of cut off cloud filtered between the trees like ancient smoke signals on these hilltops of communication. Hartside Hills tall slender mast now rising above us narrowing almost to a point, like a finger indicating the satellites circling the earth unseen. Satellites it is in constant contact with. Communication between the dogs came down to a stick. Struan had it but soon left it. Tim took his chance and made off with it pursued by Jolie. But when Struan saw him he immediately leapt in and Tim gave it up without argument. Struan did not really want it and it was Maggie who benefited picking it up as Struan discarded it again. We were now almost down again and the sun brightened up of our final quarter of a mile back to the car.

Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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Tuesday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

To 14
August 2012
Walk Dogs on walk Over Hill to Bonaly Reservoir Length 6 miles

Finlay, Maggie, Martha, Solo, Tim, Struan, Talaidh

Second day back from my hols and it looks like the good weather is here. Those wet trudging pre holiday days of rain seem like the dim and distant past. Ha!, that will teach me. It may have been blue skies and only safe cotton wool clouds but the Scottish weather is fickle. From nowhere the thunder rolled in and dark wet clouds swept across the sky dulling the day and soaking us all to the skin. And this with less than a mile to go to the end of the walk. Optimism shattered and t-shirt clinging to me. Wet seats in the car once

more. Dj vu. But first we did enjoy the sunshine. And so did a lot of other people. On what is often a quieter walk we met groups of walkers, cyclists freewheeling down the hills or straining up them and several horses too. Very well behaved dogs did not get in anyones way. Although Finlay could not resist a couple of barks at a cyclist, for old times sake. A less appealing sight and one which even had the dogs giving concerned looks as they sniffed near to it was a dead badger. A sad sight beside the track. No obvious marks on it to indicate a cause of death. My tally of badger sightings in one live one and quite a lot of dead ones. Whether it was the badger or all the people or whether the dogs were just keen to catch up with each other they all kept quite close together today. No one seemed keep to chase until Struan came to life. Then it was only Tim who gave chase. The others were saving their energies. Did they know a swim and play was on the cards at the reservoir? Through the lush grass we swept as we navigated around the side of Harbour Hill. Half jumping half scrambling over a low wall before a slight descent toward the reservoir. Clouds beginning to muster overhead. I held the dogs back in a heel. Finlay and Solo straining to get ahead but held back by my invisible command. With only yards to go the steep bank of the dam I released them. Talaidh shot passed them to be the first in the reservoir. The other two went over the top next and Maggie showed a burst of speed to almost disappear with them. Me, Martha and Struan brought up the rear. Struan not a great water dog did go quite deep, staying close to Martha who herself was not keen on swimming with the others watching. No such issues for Finlay, Maggie, Solo or Tim. Keeping one eye on the clouds we headed back. The dip in the reservoir having livened up the dogs a bit. Perhaps aided by the coolness that dripped from the clouds before the rain began to tumble from them. As the clouds closed in, stifling the air, the dogs closed back together in their tight knit group and we stretched our legs gaining speed to beat the rain. It did not work with the rain becoming a downpour before we managed to reach the car.

Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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Wednesday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

To 15
August 2012
Walk Woodland and farmland in East Lothian Dogs on walk Archie, Cyrano, Dylan, Finn, Phoebe, Struan, Talaidh Length 6 miles

Day three post holiday and the weather is just holding. Hoping for a late summer flourish of sun and warmth. It is my third day in shorts and t-shirt. Although we did get wet on the first two. Signs of rain on the Lammermuir Hills midway through did worry me but came to nought. New schoolboy Archie joined us today for his first outing. He was made very welcome by all, except for Talaidh. Getting above herself with her recent awards! But Archie persisted

to try and win her over. Bless him. He may have been the new boy but he was very quickly into the swing of things as though he had been coming out for ages with us all. Occasionally looking back at me for reassurance. And then getting ahead to greet to a dog coming the other way just as I had popped the lead on Finn expecting to be the one to break the walk to heel. Still Archie is new so he can get away with a once or twice. Of course as he went forward this was the green light to Cyrano, Struan and Talaidh too. We struck our way along the wide tracks of the thinning woodland. Feeling the heat and glad of the pond nestling in the trees. The dogs taking an opportunity for a drink and a bit of a bathe. Cyrano and Talaidh the only ones to swim but Dylan going much deeper than I have seen him for a long time. Perhaps, trying to impress Archie who was shuffling around the shore as though not sure about water. But we know better from his owner and I am sure he will be right in once he gets to know the others a little better. Although it was hot, Finn and Phoebe could not resist their customary play. Battling with each other with Finn ending up lying on his back as usual. Archie was keen to play but their playful growling made him think twice. From the woods we slipped into the brightness of the farmland. Wheat shimmering in the wind like golden cloth. Round bales of straw already dotting the landscape. A marker for the fast approach of autumn. We cut square tracks along paths of varying distinctiveness around the fields. Archie now often walking by my side and Talaidh on the other. Cyrano taking the lead until pulled away to investigate a giant hay bale. Joined by Finn and Struan. Leaving Dylan to take the lead until we disappeared back into the trees. Our meandering path continued between the trees and open spaces where serious felling has been taking place. Finn and Phoebe still managing the occasional bout between them. But the heat slowing us all down as we went from slim grassy paths to wide rutted tracks. The dogs eagerly drinking from the water filled ditches by the main tracks. Their lengthening tongues like milometers. Each inch counting a mile. Drawing themselves together as a group for the final section and happy enough to pose for a group photo at the end.

Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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Thursday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

To 16
August 2012
Walk Dogs on walk Sunny hills and rainy cleughs Length 6 miles

Archie, Gustave, Lucas, Ozzy, Solo, Tim, Struan, Talaidh

A trip out from Bonaly today. No matter which way you go from here it is always straight into a climb. Today the more strenuous of them, up around White Hill. Misnamed as it is very green with a tight knit of Scots Pine trees. Before the climb had even started several of the dogs dipped into the slow stream in the shady lie of trees. A slim wooden slatted bridge crossing it before turning through the trees

and out onto the climb. A strong sun bleaching the colours from the ground as it slanted across our eyes. Up we climbed in a rhythm of panting closing together as we slowed toward the apex. Rising into view the hills beyond and the wooden dog gate we needed to pass through. Well they did I climbed over the stile and opened it for them. One at a time, two at a time, they squeezed themselves through it. Then it was out onto the open moorland and a chance to run. First stop another stream nestling low under the pale grass, fading with the approach or autumn. Guzzling the water, readying themselves for the climb ahead. And perhaps a chase or two. But no signs yet. We continued to climb and it was not until we had gone through another gate and onto heather clad slopes that Archie took the initiative. He raced off, skimming across the heather with its purple sheen as the small flowers begin to open. Very soon he had company. First Lucas, breaking from his slot walking behind me. Then Ozzy jinking off the path and slowing slightly as he plunged into the heather. Tim and Struan joined them and then they all stopped. Stared at each other daring each other to make the next move. It was stalemate. They gradually wandered back onto the track where they joined up with Gustave, Solo and Talaidh. The chase had taken its early toll in the heat as Lucas, Ozzy and Struan laboured their way up Harbour Hill. Gustave and Talaidh setting quite a pace at the front. But once over the crown they were ready to go again. Struan this time setting them all off. Leading to a welcome drink in a puddle at the bottom of the hill. Two walkers we had passed stopping to watch our progress as we strung out into a long line on the path dropping down the cleugh toward Glencorse Reservoir. No more than a blue twinkle. We came back together for a while with the ever dependable Solo finding himself in the middle of the bunch. As the slow coaches of Archie, Lucas and Ozzy caught us up. But not for long as we climbed back up another cleugh toward Capelaw Hill they fell away again. Gustave now pacing off at the front at least thirty yards ahead. Solo just in front of me, always close to tripping me up. Dark clouds had rolled across the sky and now it rained. I walked faster to escape it and chase the blue sky ahead. But could not outpace it nor catch Gustave until he was stopped by a gate. Then we had to wait for the malingerers to catch up. All this time with the rain threatening to get quite heavy.

Thankfully it swung away and we were back into the sun. More panting and Tim fell behind with the other slow movers. The heat rose to such a degree that Archie managed to slip into the narrowest of cracks in the grass to reach the smallest of streams and lie down. But that was not enough and he took one last dip in the small steam by the car. Giving him little chance to dry out before getting home. The others paddled and drank leaving no more than wet footprints on the path back to the car.

Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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Friday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

To 17
August 2012
Walk Among the foothills of The Pentlands Dogs on walk Brooklyn, Cyrano, Dylan, Finlay, Teela, Tim, Struan, Talaidh Length 6 miles

An overcast day which quickly improved. But not soon enough for me not to be overheating in my full waterproofs. Put on at Swanston in the car park shared with the bright white modern clubhouse for the golf course, nestling around the corner from the almost quaint, idyllic image of a tradition village of the clustered houses of Swanston. Uneven white cottages rising from a verdant, well trimmed green. Topped off with faded thatched roofs. Teela saw all these from the safety of her lead. Our new ploy to get her into the walks. Often nervous at the start she has a habit of bolting back toward the car. I could see already that she was shaking and looking a little worried. However, on the lead she padded along beside me and after around a half a mile she was off and settled into the walk without any dramas. Although she did give a green keeper a lengthy sideways look as he emptied bins making a banging noise as he closed them. But not enough to set off her telltale nervous looks up at me that can precede a dash for it. In the humidity and on his fifth day Struan was labouring behind. My waterproof jacket was now slung over my arm and would remain there for the rest of the walk. His tongue was out and his head was down. He was not going to be the leader of the fun today. That

job was to be left to Brooklyn. A role he can fill with ease. A bag of energy as usual he ran across the wide tracks with Tim trailing putting in a lot of effort to try and keep up. With more urgency than usual Cyrano and Finlay were sourcing the water stops. Cyrano sitting down beside each pool or stream like a sentry on duty. Looking at me intently and only dipping in when I reached him. Often having to nudge Finlay out of the way who showed no desire to wait for me and was already laying full length when he could. Struan was grateful for the stops as he took on water. Perhaps it would revive him and he could join Brooklyn and Tim in the chase. They were the only two giving it a go. Dylan and Teela sticking to the track conserving their energy in the clammy heat. We wound along on twisting and undulating tracks. Rising to give us extended views of Edinburgh to our right and then dropping into dips hiding the city and plunging us into a rural world lost from civilisation. Purple stems on the heather giving a glow to the hillsides, the strong green of the grass now mixed with fading stalks adding a yellow tinge as though a weak sun was scattered amongst them. By now we had reached Capelaw Hill and were rising around its side on a path only taken once in deep snow. It is a surprise still there are paths here we have barely trodden. It took us to the recently re-laid stony track heading down, that the dogs dislike. Dylan, Finlay, Struan and Tim in particular. Teela picked her way easily over it and Brooklyn did not care because he was not using it, clambering over the high verges instead. It was a relief to them when we quickly left it to roam along a very thin grass path under the imposing bulk of Allermuir Hill, too heavy to climb today. Brooklyn made an effort to raise Struan from his half reverie but to no effect. He also bravely tried Talaidh who just cast a look of distain. Not too be outdone Tim tried to pounce on Teela but was seen off with a sharp bark which left him looking startled. Suddenly it was Cyrano, who, loving the long grass, began to dart about which finally roused more fun. Even Finlay breaking into a run as he raced down Cyrano and Brooklyn who were at full stretch mouths wide as if in delighted grins. The heat and humidity began to tell as the dogs pace slowed again and their tongues fell further from their mouths. Not far now as we retraced a track rising slightly before a

gentle stroll back through the houses of Swanston and to the car park. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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