Wednesday
The Dog Rambler E-diary
and 07
September 2011
Walk
A none too tolling walking onto Bells Hill Archie, Cyrano, Dylan, Jolie, Lucas, Otis
Length
6 miles
Dogs on walk
We started the day at Bonaly on the very edge of Edinburgh. So much so that the city bypass roared past us making it a none too quiet beginning. In sharp contrast to the fast moving traffic like a many organism animal, but in reality thousands of individual drivers focused on their own destinations, our road was a silent dead end stopping at the reservoir. Barely ever used by cars. While the drivers on the by-pass headed for work, family business, shopping or whatever had brought them here, we headed for the hills and some fun for the dogs. Away from the noise and the tunnel of trees brought a calmness to the shaded, dappled road. Even the dogs seemed aware of this, walking about, neither running nor chasing much. As we neared the old reservoir keepers house, settled just beside the green slope of dam, holding back the deep waters of Torduff Reservoir, Cyrano set off. He knew there was water ahead and wanted to be in it. Archie tore after him with Jolie trying to catch up as well. With some disappointment they could not find a way down. Our route was not going to help them as it travelled about thirty feet above the reservoir with a wire fence along its length. The water was being pushed along its length by another windy day. Breaking on the stone side of the dam in tiny waves, sparkling white as they churned like
someone turning a diamond in their hand. As the water turned over itself we heard a slight crescendo of noise like beans spilt on the floor. It was only as we climbed away from the reservoir and up onto the bleakness of Bonaly Moor that the dogs let rip. The flowering of the heather giving some greater depth to the moor and its purple sheen brightening the land. Also softer, with its delicate but robust tiny flowers as first Jolie and Lucas and then Archie and Dylan let themselves go wild. Dylan, having been very restrained of late, was soon orchestrating things ensuring that the chases came together into one and that even Cyrano was given the chance to latch on. Otis watched from my side, giving it a miss but being more game than usual as I encouraged him to venture forward. When the others were back on the path for intermittent rests he was in amongst them. The path cut across the moor and onto the side of Harbour Hill. A delicate curved hill dominated by the more craggy peaks on the other side of the glen. Dotted on its lower slopes sheep grazed indolently, looking up occasionally with only half an interest. Not far enough to trouble the dogs giving them freedom to run even more. Over the shoulder of the hill our destination came into view. Bells Hill, much like Harbour Hill it is a gently curving hill but has a dip in the middle making for two tops. Coming up the cleugh between Harbour Hill and Bells Hill a huge walking party ant like in a double line cut their way up the clear path. Fortunately we reached the gate at the head of the cleugh while they were still labouring up and we were able to sneak off onto the far less well defined path onto Bells Hill. The path was little more than an impression in the grass. Already turning yellow as it ages, almost translucent in the sun and bending like a stooped old man struggling under the weight of the dying days of summer. Strength and energy not an issue for the dogs as they ran down and back up the dip in Bells Hill to reach its summit. And then ran back again. Only having to come to heel as the ant people had stopped for a bite to eat, sitting in a line against the drystane wall, away from the wind. Thankfully they were on the other side of a gate and fence otherwise one or two sandwiches may have gone missing. No such luck as we retraced our way back to Bonaly Moor where another smaller walking party had also sat down to munch away. This time
we had to go through the gate. With much calling and talking to the dogs I managed to get them to resist the tempting feast. Only just with perhaps only inches in it, the dogs met by grimacing faces and hands clutching at foods on the ground. But with nothing taken it was a success. Six proud dogs lead me back across the moor. So pleased with their restraint that they had to fly about again. This time Cyrano with a stick and then a plastic tree protector drawing the attention of the others. We by-passed most of the reservoir, heading down through the Scots Pine woodland but over the reservoirs dam and finally back down the empty road toward the roar of the city by-pass and the waiting car greeted us. Nick
Photo slideshow from the walk
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Nick Fletcher The Dog Rambler 9 Links Street Musselburgh East Lothian EH21 6JL
[Link] nick@[Link] t. 0131 665 8843 or 0781 551 6765
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