Friday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

top 09
December 2011
Walk

Twice over Allermuir Hill

Length

7.5 miles

Dogs on walk

Cyrano, Dylan, Finlay, Tim, Struan, Talaidh

A longer than usual walk today because of a detour. It was also a lovely crisp day to be in the hills. Although you would not have thought so by the state that Cyrano and Finlay managed to get themselves into. Despite the frost hardened ground they both found enough soft ground to turn themselves black. We began our climb from Swanston. Uphill all the way to the top of Allermuir Hill. Very little relenting in the slope. This kept us close together for the first section beside the beautiful white, thatched cottages and then between the prickly green of the gorse bushes. A bruised sky pressing down on the hills ahead darkening their colours into one. The footpath began to climb more steeply and the ground became more frozen. Talaidh was the first to slip on the ice covered path and fall over. Cyrano was off to the side where the longer grass was only tipped with frost. He was safe. Then Tim began to slide sideways on the steep ice doing a fantastic impression of a crab. But he managed to keep his feet, despite what looked like delighted grins from Dylan and Struan. Finlay took advantage of the rumpus to eventually strike out in front.

Having regained his composure Tim chased Dylan for a sprig of heather. Which one of them had pulled up from the ground I dont know. Tim is a quick learner. He picked up the heather trick from Dylan months ago. Today he noticed that Struan and Talaidh and to some extent Dylan were happily munching on bits of ice which they could bite from the path. By the end of the walk he was following suit. We reached the dusted white top of Allermuir. The further peaks of the dark hills lit by their whiter crowns. Down into the depths of the long glens we set off. Hampered only by a frozen dog gate. Its rails in which the wooden board sits, choked by two pieces of ice. I could not pull it up. It took several attempts of pulling hard and then having to stamp it back down with my feet as it jammed. Eventually it came up and through came the dogs who had been waiting patiently on the other side. Except Dylan who had ungainly taken on the cattle grid and come a cropper near the far side. No damage done. Finlay struck off ahead and had to be called back several times as he disappeared behind hummocks in the landscape. Down we went passing two groups of people out orienteering. Going in different directions. We passed the second lot again as our detour kicked in. Having dropped all the way to the stillness of Glencorse Reservoir nestling between the high slopes of the hills we had planned to head up toward Phantoms Cleugh. Echoing down the path was the sound of shouting and then the noise of a quad bike. From the shouts of come by and away it quickly dawned on me that the farmer at the helm was herding some sheep straight toward us. We quickly turned and retraced our way back along the side of the reservoir and up to the path we had rounded Castlelaw Hill on. Now we went round the other side of the hill passing the firing range. It was in use and the sound of single shots from a rifle went right around us as though you could feel it in the air hitting not just ears but our whole body. Its sharp retorts deep and loud and short and them immediately softer and longer fading slowly. At one point Cyrano came back to me to look quizzically at me but otherwise was unperturbed by the noise. Neither was Finlay who maintained his vigil at the front. With the distance getting ever longer we faced a dilemma. Head down the big path and along the bottom of the hills or opt for the shorter route but have to climb back over Allermuir Hill. We opted for the hill. Much colder than earlier and much, much colder than

the warmth down in the glen. It is surprising the difference a few hundred feet can make. The ground now more icy and crisper underfoot we carefully snaked our way down. Cyrano and Dylan half playing until Tim tempted them with some more heather. Edinburgh got closer as we dropped and more distinct until individual houses could be made out and then we were back at Swanston village. We paraded between the few houses and their green walking to a good heel until we reached the car park and the car. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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Monday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

top 12
December 2011
Walk Dogs on walk

Around Saltoun Forest Dylan, Jolie, Lucas, Otis, Solo, Tim

Length

7 miles

With Jolie in season she found herself the centre of attention. Tim as usual just wanting to play. Over his bout of illness at the weekend. Running around as if nothing had happened. Also running around were Otis and Solo. More interested in something a little more amorous. Jolie deftly kept them at bay and led them on a merry dance. By half way through the walk the two of them panting heavily having never run so much when out with me. Lucas was a little left out. Jolie kept coming over to try and play with him but had two dogs bearing down behind her. Lucas made the best of it but found himself a little pushed out by the lovelorn pair. With Dylan it was as if nothing were going on as he trod his own walk, constantly on the look out into the trees for any adventure. There was little in the way of wildlife to attract him. Only two horses being ridden along one of the forest paths. We sidled off the path to give them plenty of room. Despite the bright sunshine there were patches of frozen ground and the pond in the middle of the forest was frozen across. This disappointed Solo more than the rest. Although Lucas had run ahead with him toward it. And was the last to reappear, from behind some of the bushes surrounding it. None of them did more than break some ice at the edge and then decide not to try to go any further. With Jolie being trailed by Otis and Solo we made good pace along the forest paths and out into the open fields. Dylan having to run several times to catch us up as we began to leave him behind. A spread of green now beginning to take hold in the planted fields. Slowly filling in the brown spaces. The dogs did well to almost keep off it. Only Jolie venturing on once or twice as she jinked about with her paparazzi of boys following. Tim still only interested in playing and seeming to have picked up Phoebes trick of going for a front leg. Lucas had left them to it and was walking with me as we got back into the trees. Across the path four or five trees lay. They must have been blown down in last weeks storm. Some we could pass by skirting just off the path, one we had to scramble through climbing its horizontal trunk. The track looped and turned with Otis and Solo getting themselves into a very muddy

state. This is despite the frozen ground in places. Where not frozen it was very muddy. Coupled with this the two of them were not really concentrating on where they were going. Jolie too was grubbier than usual. Tim in the middle of it all somehow kept clean. Dylan off the path for so much of the walk was the cleanest of them all. It was quiet in the wood with the only disturbance from the horses. The trees stood silently, with no wind whispering gently to them. No birdsong drifted on the air and no other dogs could be heard. We were the only little bubble of noise and disorder in the peace and structure of the woodland. As we headed back toward the car Solo had given up and was walking more slowly but Otis was still pursuing Jolie. She kept away from him but not Tim who could have been her bodyguard if he were not attacking her. For the final stretch Dylan rejoined us walking close to Lucas and pretty much as one group we arrived back at the car park. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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