Monday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

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February 2012
Walk

To the masts atop Hartside Hill and Clints Hill Dylan, Jolie, Lucas, Phoebe, Solo, Tim

Length

6 miles

Dogs on walk

A trip into the Scottish Borders today. We may have only been just over the boundary but into the borders we were and heading for a twin hill climb up onto Hartside Hill and then over to the slightly smaller Clints Hill. Hartside with a very good head of hair in the form of its thick forest of conifer trees. Clints Hill more closely shaved with a good crop of wiry grass and heather. With the bleating of sheep and gentle drops of rain to accompany us we headed through the gate from the road and along the track to begin the climb. The sheep paralleling our movements at a distance into their field as the farmer pressed them through the gate. They fanned out as they got further onto the lush looking grass. My charges bustled together saying their good mornings at the start of a new week. Lucas and Phoebe in particular seeking each other out having not shared a walk together for many weeks. Another gate and we were onto the curving track taking a lazy spiral around and up Hartside Hill. Solo slipped into step a few feet in front of me girding himself for the climb ahead. No such thoughts on the minds of Jolie, Lucas, Phoebe and Tim. They were soon twisting around each other at first on the wide vehicular track and then onto the broad

heather sides separating it from the tightly packed trees on either side. Just as we were getting into our stride a horse appeared slowly hacking down the track. Typical, the one day I did not bring any leads is the one day we meet a horse. Despite their excitement with each other they had the presence to pull up and follow me off the track into the heather. With plenty of time before the horse reached us we were able to take our time getting organised and sitting down. There were a few curious looks toward the horse as it drew level. It may have also been the clicking noise the rider was making with her mouth to keep the horse focused that perked the dogs ears up too. But my gentle commands of stay overrode them and the dogs remained placid and still. We now had the open sweep of the track to ourselves. In the excitement of being let loose again Jolie, Lucas, Phoebe and Tim were soon at each other again. Solo retook his place and I trod along behind him with the occasional off you go to hurry him along before I bumped into him. Dylan had checked out the boisterous bunch but was not ready to join them just yet. This changed as the slope began to level and we crested the top of Hartside Hill, distant hilltops revealing themselves. Now Dylan threw himself into the mix. This continued as we stepped across the exposed ridge top of Clints Hill. All except Solo raced deeply into the heather, accompanied by the twirl of distant wind turbines, their scissor blade arms cutting through the air. The dogs made swift work cutting through the heather and rounding the hills mast at its summit and off back toward Hartside Hill. Solo watched their maniac behaviour, with Dylan at the helm. Torn up sprigs of heather giving a matador feel to the fun as one held one and the others chased it down like red rags to a bull. Returning to the Hartside Hill track and Lucas was the first to feel the pace taking a break and falling in behind me. The rest too began to slow and Solo found himself with company. More of a group now we began to thread our back down the weaving track. The chases became more sporadic until all had expended their energy. A peaceful journey home in the car awaited me. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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