Thursday

The Dog Rambler E-diary

To 31
May 2012
Walk Dogs on walk Through the hills to Castlelaw Fort Length 6 miles

Cyrano, Gustave, Lucas, Maggie, Ozzy, Otis, Solo, Tim

The vagaries of the Scottish weather. Scorching sun for a few a days, followed by monsoon like rains. Me still braving it in t-shirt and shorts refusing to admit that it may have been a false start for the arrival of a long summer of great weather. Albeit today the shorts and t-shirt were hidden by a full set of waterproofs. And were they needed. Thankfully I had sensibly thrown a few towels into the car as well. Those dry ones that were left over from Ian having to towel down Struan, Talaidh and Otis after their early morning walk. Otis is staying with us this week so is getting walked off his feet. As I write the diary he is zonked on the floor not moving other than the gentle rise and fall of his chest under that mad mop of hair of his. It was wet everywhere so why not head into the hills. Picking a good solid track that would mean we did not get too wet or dirty. Wishful thinking on my part I guess. From Dreghorn we struck out toward the hills. Cloud languidly, languishing over their tops. Draping itself with intent. That intent was to rain and rain some more on us. Not many fools out on the hills in this. Although we did pass three people in the course of the outing. Ozzy was sporting his new go faster hair cut. Sorry my mistake his new go slower haircut.

It appears to have had some Samsonesque effect on him robbing him of his vigour. Many times I had to shout into the circling mist to get him to pick his head and feet up and catch us up. Or maybe the loss of hair had freed up his nostrils. His head was usually to be seen stuffed deep into a tussock of grass. His dawdling gave Maggie and excuse not to overexert herself and Tim was hanging back in case he was about to miss out on something with his best pal. As we climbed the steep track between two hills, Allermuir and Capelaw, I soon had a pack of dogs behind me. It was only Solo, Cyrano, Gustave and Otis who were knocking out a good pace. Gustave had his head down and was trenchantly pushing himself up the ever steepening incline. Cyrano was back and forth across the track seeking out the pools of water forming in the ditches at its side. Solos usual steady pace was paying off. Otis just tucked himself in behind me and gained a bit of shelter. The rest were just slipping back to be no more than dots shimmering in the mist with fleeting glances of Edinburgh shifting behind and below them. It all changed as the track levelled off. Ozzy came rushing by me then off the track and into the thick heather. Dropping away toward the great bowl of the Pentlands with is central reservoir surrounded by hills, lighter than anywhere else as through it had trapped the sun. He raced in circles and was soon joined by who else but Lucas and Tim. Almost knocking Cyrano over who was exploring the heather too. The incessant rain continued, getting heavier or blown harder by the wind now we were more exposed amongst the tops of the hills. Maggie had a little wander into more thick heather coming out looking even more bedraggled and wet if that was possible. Gustave and Solo were sticking firmly to the track along with Otis who was doing very well on his fourth day out plus extra walks with Struan and Talaidh. We slowed for some sheep that were unenthusiastic about moving for us. We met them again coming back up. Once more having shuffled their way back onto the track. Four of them were those sheep you get who when they do start moving stay on the track rather than going off into the grass. So for a hundred yards or so we followed on behind pushing them along until they finally worked out that if they left the track we would not bother them anymore.

Down we dropped to Castlelaw Fort. An iron age circular, well more oval, fort. Mounds of earth from it old barricades mapped out in strong relief in the grass. Here we turned into the wind and rain and clambered back up to the top pass. As we descended back toward Dreghorn I had a trail of dogs behind me once more. This time including Otis. Now it was only me, Cyrano, Gustave and Solo. The other lazy bunch just ambled along until they thought we were getting too far ahead and them picked up their pace in case they lost us. They had no need to worry we were going to stop at the water filled ditch at the bottom before covering the last half mile back to the car. Cyrano had already decided that.

Nick

Photo slideshow from the walk

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