The Dog Rambler

Wednesday

21 E-diary
April 2010

Walk Fala Moor, Midlothian Length 6 miles

Dogs on walk Darcy, Finn, Otis, Phoebe

A great and desolate moor today. White clouds, many tinged with a charcoal rim, coasted
across the sky with the sea of blue beyond swelling as the clouds broke against the buffeting
of the wind. Phoebe, the Deerhound / Lurcher, was first in the Jeep and then it was across
Edinburgh to collect three neighbours. Next Otis, the creamy white Labradoodle then Darcy
the taller and tight curled black Labradoodle and finally Finn, the Vizsla, who squeezed in
the boot with Darcy.

Our journey to today’s ramble took us south on the A68, one of the main roads linking
Edinburgh with the south and into England. We were not going anywhere near so far and
only a few miles beyond Pathhead, itself only a short distance from Edinburgh, we pulled
off the road by the village of Fala.

Our route took us nearly due south along a steadily but gently climbing gravel track. Whilst
pretty calm in the car, apart from to odd expectant cry, mainly from Phoebe, once out it
was a different story. Finn and Darcy who had been separated from Phoebe by the dog
guard were quick to renew their friendship, resulting in some manic chasing up and down
the track. They could not go far as the track was bounded by some rather elegant
trapezium shaped beech hedges about six foot high. Their leaves still golden brown having
clung on through the freezing winter.

Beyond the hedging new trees had been planted. Most still no taller than the hedge.
Hidden in the trees but exposed by their shrill cries, lurked Pheasants. The dogs were not
unawares of this. Either by their giveaway cries, their scent or the occasional flash of
brown, red and green across the track. Soon this drew their attention away from each
other and they wrestled their way through the hedge in search of the hidden treasures. Of
course all to no avail, either thwarted by the wariness of the Pheasants or by me calling
them back if they were getting too deep into the trees. The trees grew higher and became
more mature as we rose higher, in a mix of still needless larch and other pine varieties.

The track brought us to a gate, where ahead another walker and his two dogs had gone
before us. They were too distant for me to recognise the breed but there was a suspicion of
Collie about them. We were closing so there was a chance that we would catch them up.
The gate took us out onto the edges of Fala moor, with the track curving up to the left still
hugging the last of the trees and then arcing right, out into the expanse of moor. Below on
the beginning of the moor some sheep grazed scattered over the heather and moorland
grass. Too far for the dogs to really notice but I kept them close at hand just in case. This
was until we met another walker coming toward us and they began to bound ahead to
greet him. Phoebe a little too exuberantly, as she jumped up at him, rising above his head.
Finn in a friendlier mood toward people today let himself be stroked alongside Darcy,
while we had a quick chat, discovering that he had recently moved to the village of Fala
and was exploring local walking routes.

The track climbed some more before levelling out and leaving the last of the trees on the
left behind. Opening out before us was the vast expanse of the moor with the track a
straight ruled line through it. Some may say it looks desolate or uninviting or even slightly
chilling. But its vast flatness with subtle tones of brown from the heather and the faded
straw colour of the grass beginning to grow new green life, give the whole place a vibrancy
muffled by peacefulness. Well peaceful until this immense flat moor proved some kind of
elixir for the dogs. It became their race track with hurdles of heather and ditches.
Astonishingly they maintained a race and chase for most of our time on the moor. Darcy
and Finn took it in turns to chase Phoebe, like tag team partners, giving each other the
opportunity to take a breather. Otis was more circumspect about it all and only made a
foray into the chasing a few times, preferring my company and the trackside smells. It was
as though he almost took a disdainful view of all the commotion in such a quiet place.

The track, still solid and wide, eventually curled away to the left as the sun was finally
unleashed by the dissipating clouds. To our left Fala Flow Loch was a winking, twinkling
eye. To our right were the lonely remains of Fala Lugie an old heavy stone tower, framed
by the dog tooth Pentland Hills in the distance. Beyond the oval eye of the loch the wind
turbines and mast of Hartside Hill were clearly visible like tall flowers with three petals.

The dogs still chased, leapt and bounded in wide arcs then charging straight lines.
Occasionally taking a breather or a water stop from the many boggy pools. This continued
until we neared Brotherstone Hill, which I had had half an eye on going up. However, the
sheep with new born lambs in the field we reached made our minds up, that it was not a
good idea. As soon as they saw us at a distance they began to agitate and work themselves
into a bit of a panic.

We looped around and began to make our back across the moor. And the manic running
and chasing continued. As Fala tower grew from the heather we detoured across to it for a
closer look. Only one wall remained with two windows or perhaps one of them a high level
door in it. Records suggest that at one time it was at least a three story tower house
dating back to the 13C. Quite a lonely, windswept and exposed existence for its occupants.
But on the positive side near the great mediaeval hospital of Soutra Aisle.

Nearing the trees again the sheep had shuffled closer to the track. However, the dogs
showed tremendous restraint practically walking to heel with me when asked to do so.
Darcy and Phoebe could not resist a sly peek at them. Finn and Otis took more interested
in the scents and smells beside the track.

Back through the gate and it was not far down the beech hedge path under an
increasingly hotter sun. Unbelievably there was still one last chance for the panting dogs to
have a chase before they collapsed in the Jeep.

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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