The Dog Rambler

Friday

30 E-diary
April 2010

Walk Swinging low on lesser paths in The Length 7 miles

Pentlands
Dogs on walk Dylan, Finn, Phoebe, Struan, Talaidh

Our ramble took us along some of the lower sections of The Pentlands near its north and
east boundaries. The route swung us along from the northern edge in toward the hills
before swinging back around the eastern edge, with most of the walk on less well used
paths and tracks ribboned over the grasslands and hills.

Dylan and Phoebe met for the first time today, enthusiastically sniffing each other all over
as Dylan climbed into the Jeep beside Phoebe, with Struan and Talaidh rather
nonchalantly looking on from the boot. Once Finn had been picked up and joined Struan
and Talaidh in the boot we were off to the start of the walk. No great distance as once
again we were setting out from Bonaly, but not on the paths of the previous days. The
plan being to head east above the scout camp and into a large grass covered field in which
the dogs could have a riot, with Dylan and Phoebe getting a chance to get to know each
other better, before settling down into the walk. With Phoebe always being an energetic
and excitable companion it would be a chance to burn some energy off early before we met
many people, dogs or other animals. Of course Phoebe’s exuberance rubs off on Finn, who
like a sponge soaks up the personality of the dogs he is with and then mirrors it reflecting
it back in his behaviour.
True to form, as we headed east over a small burn and across the side of the small hill
above the scout camp, Phoebe was leaping and bounding around Dylan who was most
certainly not averse to her attentions and quickly engaged in a chase. Finn, not one to be
left out soon joined the fray, as they wheeled up the sides of the hill before crashing
downwards just holding their balance, tipping toward the fence of the camp.

As I had hoped this section of path was quiet, giving the dogs the freedom to let loose but
then my plan collapsed as the hill gave way to the field and for the first time on our walks
through here it had a flock of sheep in it. Fortunately it was a large field and the sheep
had corralled themselves together near the middle. We were able to make progress around
the top with the field sloping down toward the sheep. Knowing Phoebe’s over eagerness
sometimes, I put her on the lead until well clear of the sheep, the other’s behaved with
great decorum, not roving far from me. To Phoebe’s credit she showed no interest in them
at all and I’ve noticed a calmness and degree of restraint coming over her the more times
she joins us on our outings. But with one leap and a bound and that can all change,
especially with Finn mischievously provoking her.

His method of attack today being to climb her shoulder to nibble at her collar and neck
and then to crumple at her feet wriggling onto his back as he chews at her exceptionally
long legs. Such a temptation to tussle and play is too much for Phoebe and off they go
flashing across the ground. Such a commotion was also too much for Dylan who was in and
out of the action. Struan and Talaidh having seen it all before largely kept out of the
children’s way casting the odd disapproving parental style glare at them.

Beyond the field and after climbing a track through some trees we emerged at the foot of
the hills. Here we took an indistinct path leading a diagonal trail over a low shoulder of
grass and gorse to a stile. I had convinced myself that the stile had a small dog gate in it,
but how wrong I was. However, with some encouragement Finn led the way by jumping
over and Dylan soon followed his example. Phoebe looked less keen and Talaidh and Struan
point blank refused. They were lifted over, wriggling in complaint and Phoebe having seen
their indignity decided to jump over as well.

We wound down the shoulder to a burn and welcome drinks before climbing again on a
more serious gradient toward Windy Door Nick, an exposed pass between Caerkertton Hill
and Allermuir Hill. As if knowingly the wind go up as we climbed but this a welcome.
Despite the murky conditions the day was sticky and the wind proved refreshing and cool.
Windy Door Nick, however, did not live up to its name being an oasis of tranquillity as the
wind died and not a sound could be heard, except for the panting of dogs and their
inpatient scratching at the gate.

Through the gate the steep descent into the sheltered glen below threw up great views to
the distant Moorfoot Hill as the sun pierced the cloud lifting the colour around us. The stile
did have a dog gate through which they all squeezed Struan and Finn together; all except
for Dylan who jumped over following the example of the previous one.

Wandering through the glen, we expected to meet more sheep as they had made
themselves quite at home in a field here last time we passed this way. What we had not
expected was a herd of cows, some with young calves, strewn by the track and a few
apparently heading toward the gate and us. Thankfully it was a burn opening out into a
sludgy pond that was attracting them and not us. However, we still had to find a way
past them. Still a bit distrustful of Phoebe, who if she decides to run goes at such a pace, I
popped the lead on her and encouraged the others to keep close by as we climbed away
from the path to try and bypass them. All was well till we rounding a rise and several
cows were strung in a disorderly line over the path and up the hill. There was nothing for
it but to cautiously walk between them, finding the spot with the greatest gap in it and
leading toward the next gate. Success, but now for the sheep, which were beyond the gate.
As with last time they reluctantly opened a path for us, closing back again once we were
past, then leisurely beginning to drift along after us like clouds pushed on by the wind.

The wind had picked up and blown the clouds back in, bringing with them some true April
showers. Short bursts of thin rain, all the wetter for its thinness, coldly prickling the skin
like pins and needles, and making my t-shirt stick to me. Away from the animals, with
who all the dogs had again behaved with tremendous obedience, they were now free to
run, leap, tumble and charge as we rounded the eastern side of Caerkertton Hill.

Now our path swung westwards as we began to head back toward Bonaly dropping down
the lower slopes. We undulated on grassy paths and then a track between the spiked gorse
flourishing with yellow flowers. These giving off a strong smell of coconut from the gorse
flowers, conjuring up incongruous tropical images in a landscape far removed. We met and
followed our outward path for a few hundred yards, reversing our steps and paw prints,
before veering away swinging in another direction before re-crossing it again as we swung
up and over a different hill.

Below us the bowl of Bonaly, with is scarf of trees, revealed itself as we picked up our pace
to reach the car park before an ominous looking rain cloud threatened more than a
shower. With some big rain drops beginning to splat against us and the Jeep we quickly
climbed in a settled ourselves ahead of the journey home.

Nick
Photo slideshow from the walk

E-diaries now also available at www.scribd.com/TheDogRambler

Nick Fletcher
The Dog Rambler
9 Links Street
Musselburgh www.thedogrambler.com
East Lothian nick@thedogrambler.com
EH21 6JL t. 0131 665 8843 or 0781 551 6765

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