Thursday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

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April 2012
Walk Dogs on walk

Delving into Roslin Glen

Length

6 miles

Darcy, Finlay, Jerry, Lucas, Ozzy, Solo, Tim

Not sure if Darcy is ready for the hills again yet so we headed to Roslin Glen. He had been quite unsure on his last few trips into the Pentlands. Sticking by my side and I mean sticking, following me footfall for footfall. But last week in Gore Glen he was his old self. Hopefully another glen walk would suit him. It was cold as well despite the clear bright skies. An icy wind curled about and early frost still lurked on the ground. The glen promised some shelter from the wind. So it was not all about Darcy. And Finlay, Jerry, Ozzy, Solo and Tim do love the water. Roslin Glen has plenty of that in the shape of the River Esk cutting the deep glen from earth and solid rock. Roslin Glen is also one of Lucas favourites too. First we made our way along Bilston Glen. Not so deep or impressive but enough to get us warmed up. We were just warming up nicely when we bumped into an old client Misty with her owner John and his pram with his twenty month old daughter in it. We had to stop and chat and lose some of the heat we had built up. The dogs milled around except for Tim who constantly wound Misty up to the extent that she was growling and bearing

her teeth at him. Of course this means nothing to Tim. Saying our goodbyes we headed down into Roslin Glen. The sun skipping off the early spring leaves and sparkling in the wet grass where the early morning frost had now melted. Finlay raced on ahead down the wooden steps built into the bank. He knew the river was waiting for him. But he was not prepared to wait for us. He looked back up from the gate at the bottom as one by one he was joined by the others. I was the last. Through the gate and him and Jerry were the first in. Ozzy hung over the side but the lip of the bank was a little too steep for him. Instead he decided it was time to play and chased off with Lucas. Tim would have followed but he had fallen into the water and was struggling to get out. Once he did he shook himself vigorously. The rest had just about reached the next easy way into the river. Finlays bark urging me to hurry up with some sticks for them. There they all were in the shallows of the river looking back up the fifteen foot bank at me. All expectant. I did not disappoint them. They splashed and flayed and Finlay and Solo found the deepest section to swim in. Jerry and Tim hovered near me hoping that would get them to the stick first. Darcy, Lucas, and Ozzy hung back in the water a bit like quarterbacks or wide receivers in American football waiting for the pass. We left the river and climbed the path as it made its way up the glen. The sides closing in and getting steeper. Trees perilously holding onto the damp soil that threatened to give and tumble toward the slim line of the river well below us now. Having seen my first solitary bluebell yesterday; today the sides of the glen had an abundance. Their heavy elongated bell shaped flowers lazily tolling in the breeze. Bringing colour to the green carpet now creeping across the walls of the glen. Lit up too by the occasional firework burst of the white flowers of the wild garlic. After several ups and downs, this glen is hard work, we dropped back to the river. Here it had cut through solid rock to form a vertical gorge. The rock walls rising way up above us. Along its bottom a path cut from the stone. Precarious but passable with care. The dogs were not so bothered about that, most of them happily slipped into the water. Lucas not sure of the depth kept out and Tim too after his earlier experience. But Darcy, Finlay and

Solo made the most of the cool deep waters. We weaved back along the path, up and down, with the sun flickering between the many branches climbing high overhead. Then it was one final play in the river before we climbed over a testing fallen tree to clamber back out of the glen. But not before Ozzy had sparked off another chase with Lucas and Tim. Darcy too slow to join them before it was all over. Jerry minding his own business up on the sides of the bank wading through the thick leaves of the wild garlic. We travelled back along Bilston Glen via another path and past the plant nursery. A short journey along its access road led us back to the car. Beating the thick cover of cloud that was slowly moving in to swamp the sky. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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