Friday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

top 06
April 2012
Walk

Clambering about in The Pentland Hills

Length

6 miles

Dogs on walk

Cyrano, Dylan, Finlay, Maggie, Tim, Struan, Talaidh

Welcome to the bank holiday. Wet. It fairly much rained all day. It was not unpleasant rain like an annoying drizzle. It just fell gently and consistently. The deep swamp of cloud above us holding all that rain kept the temperature up. Or at least it felt as though it did but the climbing in the hills may have contributed too. We got ready in the rather empty car park at Swanston. Usually busy on non-bank holiday days never mind Good Friday. Filled with cars using the golf course clubhouse for food. The enticing smells of which wafted on the damp breeze. Or as an overflow for golfers from the main golfing car park and of course by walkers like myself. Today so quiet it was odd. A couple of women with a Labrador were just setting off as we arrived. Even though I had to get changed we soon caught them on the climb away from the collection of Swanston cottages hidden from the car park by a grouping of trees. The dogs had been walking quite close to me so did not mind having to come to heel as we neared them. Even Finlay who I think is feeling all the walks he has had staying with us for the last week and a bit. As I write this he is flat out on the floor at the bottom of the stairs. The women and the dogs waited at a gate to let us by. And then we were off

through some acid yellow gorse bushes, almost out of place against all the dull hue of greens and browns around them, and out onto the path leading to our climb up Caerketton Hill. Tim began to torment Struan, nipping at his back legs. Struan spinning around to avoid him and then they raced off across the thick grassland at the bottom of the hill. Its ridge towering above us, quite imposing. Dylan and Maggie pushed on ahead only to come to a halt as a few Highland Cows straddled the path. Once by them the climb began. Finlay still sticking with the rest of them and Cyrano doing his own thing was always around us but easy to miss. He was like a spirit of the hills drifting around, barely imperceptible. Only seen from the corner of your eye. Turn your head and he was away somewhere else. But it was him, Dylan and Finlay who made it to the top of the hill first. Along the high, undulating ridge to join and climb Allermuir Hill some patches of snow remained. The dogs loved it. Finlay rolled and rolled in it. Maggie ran at such a pace she was like a snowplough, pushing the snow to either side of her nose and head dipped into it. Dylan and Cyrano did not seem overly bothered with it. Unlike Struan, Talaidh and Tim who acrobatically jumped and twisted and span about. We reached the top of Allermuir Hill. Most of the other hills were now lost in the descending clouds still packed with rain. Even the nearby Capelaw Hill our next target on the other side of a cleugh was half hidden. More snow on the sheltered side of Allermuir had the dogs racing again. Quite deep in places it went above my ankles. But very patchy and melting all the time under the onslaught from the rain. Some sheep sheltering by the gate at the bottom of the cleugh had to move up the side of Capelaw Hill. They had picked a good spot other than the puddles of water collecting around it. I am sure they returned once we began our climb across the shoulder of the hill. Tim returned to tormenting Struan and the rest wandered peacefully along the path. Apart from the ubiquitous Cyrano still fading about, half seen. Until he found a stick and then he put himself right in my eye line. We were off the hills now and making our way along a grassy path at the bottom of them back toward Swanston.

Some deep puddles and streams did little to clean Finlay but somehow Cyrano, Dylan, Maggie and Tim were not too bad when we reached the car. Struan and Talaidh being Dalmatians seemed to had shed all their dirt in their strange self cleaning way and were quite white as they jumped in with the rest of them. Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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