The Dog Rambler
Wednesday
28 E-diary
April 2010
Walk The maiden and the phantom, The Length 6.5
Pentlands miles
Dogs on walk Finn, Phoebe, Struan, Talaidh
The Maiden and the Phantom who are featured in today’s ramble are cleughs. A Scottish
term for a pass leading a route between two hills. The Maiden Cleugh and the Phantom
Cleugh traverse either side of Harbour Hill making for a good circuit walk with a gentle
climb over the shallow dish shaped dome of Harbour Hill.
Madcap Phoebe joined with Finn, Struan and Talaidh to meet the maiden and the
phantom. As soon we were out of the Jeep, Phoebe and Finn immediately engaged in a
brawling, tumbling game. Phoebe so often the instigator of these games found Finn equal to
the task, nibbling at her ankles to rouse her.
Having parked lower down from the usual car park at Bonaly we made off up the access
road to Torduff Reservoir. Bonaly being nestled at the very edge of the Pentlands and right
on the boundary of Edinburgh, with estates of houses merely a stone’s throw away. The
bight sunny day overhead was accompanied by a whipping wind, tossing miniature waves
across the reservoir breaking up against the dam as we crossed.
Our route took us away from the reservoir and through the Scots Pine wood and a gentle
climb toward Bonaly Moor. The trees stood tall with trunks bowed by the years of insistent
wind and the branches curled, pointing to where the wind had gone, like sails caught in
the breeze all facing the same way. As the dogs played through the wood along the
indistinct path crazed with exposed tree roots, the power of the wind began to rise.
Once onto the moor the wind ebbed and flowed, with the firmer gusts crashing around us
like breakers on the sea shore, pushing us back. Between the gusts we waded forward as if
in water, its viscosity sapping the progress of my steps. No such trouble for the dogs it
appeared, as the bowled off the path and into the heather. Phoebe with her long and
rangy legs bounded over the deep heather while Finn having to push through it was pulled
back by its tangling, wiry stems, slowing his progress until Phoebe was way ahead. Struan
and Talaidh threw themselves into the chase when Finn took a breather and regrouped his
energy and strategy.
As we progressed beyond the moor and onto the sides of the hills, Finn’s new strategy was
revealed. Rather than forlornly chasing Phoebe; after an initial burst of pace he would give
way to the tangled heather and lay down in it, forcing Phone to turn tail and zoom back
past him, if she wanted the chase to continue. This way Finn saved some of his energy and
stood a chance of keeping within touching distance of Phoebe. The revised plan of play did
nothing to diminish Phoebe’s fun and exuberance.
The only thing which did put paid to the playing was the usual off white smudged dots of
sheep in the landscape, spread around the hillsides. They grew in number as we headed off
Harbour Hill and down Maiden’s Cleugh. Some quiet talking to the dogs, as we dipped
below the hill line toward the glen below, kept them calm and their attention away from
the sheep. The dogs exhibited exceptional and restrained behaviour around the sheep, only
their eyes and heads swivelling occasionally and uncontrollably as the temptation to look
overpowered them. Further down the cleugh in the more sheltered areas the dotted sheep
grew into more of a polka dot pattern as they began to form flocks, but with some smaller
brighter dots where young lambs were interspersed. Phoebe was beginning to find it too
much, so I popped her onto her lead and she calmed down knowing whatever the
temptation she could do nothing about it.
At the bottom of Maiden’s Cleugh and with Glencorse Reservoir ahead of us, shimmering in
the sun as the wind tussled its surface, we swung around to out left and began to climb up
through Phantom’s Cleugh. Phantom’s Cleugh is a new name for this pass set in these
ancient hills. The name is probably no more than fifteen years old and refers to a
mysterious man who was spotted over the years making repairs to the footpath in the
Cleugh. But when approached by anyone he would disappear into the hills. No one ever
managed to speak to him and the name Phantom’s Cleugh began to be used for the pass as
a memory of the mysterious man. It has gained so much recognition that the name is now
recorded on the official Ordnance Survey maps. Maiden’s Cleugh is much older dating back
to at least 1753 and may be a corruption of Gaelic. Rather than being some romantic
story about a maiden rescued in the hills, its early roots may refer to a stone on the
middle of pass (cloch meid). Such a stone would act as an important marker for people
passing through the hills, perhaps for the drovers taking their cattle to market.
No phantom’s in sight today, just the wind whistling eerily between the hills and the
ghostly sheep punctuating the heather. Once the sheep were far enough off, Phoebe and
Finn resumed their wrestle and chase. Struan and Talaidh were done for by the heat and
panted away behind me, slaking their thirst in every rivulet of water springing from the
heather. It even got too much for Finn, who exhausted sat down by the path while Phoebe
caroused around him, taunting him, but to no avail.
We re-crossed the path we had come over on but kept going to descend back to Bonaly by
a different route. This took us through some open grass sloping away toward Edinburgh. It
was the ideal place for the dogs to chase free of any interfering sheep. However, the
enervating impact of the sun, the hidden heat behind the wind and the mass of earlier
chasing resulted in only some paltry attempts by Phoebe to get the rest to respond, with
some limited success, before even she slowed down.
The shelter of the trees coming over White Hill with Bonaly and the south west of
Edinburgh spread out before us, a patchwork of colours, ruffled by the rises and falls in the
topography, was a welcome relief from the sun now higher in the sky. Even more welcome
was the twisting burn coming through the trees at the bottom with its quenching cool
elixir for the dogs.
Once fully refreshed we made the short trip back to the Jeep where the dogs collapsed,
mouth open in grins; or perhaps just panting.
Nick
Photo slideshow from the walk
E-diaries now also available at [Link]/TheDogRambler
Nick Fletcher
The Dog Rambler
9 Links Street
Musselburgh [Link]
East Lothian nick@[Link]
EH21 6JL t. 0131 665 8843 or 0781 551 6765
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