Thursday
The Dog Rambler E-diary
To 21
June 2012
Walk Dogs on walk Linear Line to the Bore Stane Length 6 miles
Cyrano, Darcy, Gustave, Lucas, Otis, Ozzy, Solo, Tim
Set the compass point straight for the Bore Stane. A huge rock only partly exposed from its blanket of green and thorny crown of trees. The only trees for some distance. Swept like blow dried hair by the wind into tortuous shapes. Branches and leaves stretching away from the trunk on one side. A lopsided creation defying gravity. Flattened on top by the cut of the wind. Underneath the Bore Stane settles, comforted and protected. Resting here for centuries. So long now that the meaning of its name is forgotten. The track leads straight to it. But is not boring. It traverses a range of landscape. Enough to keep the dogs occupied. Be it looking at cows on the low lying fields, treading carefully by the sheep and their lambs on the edge of the moor, or scrambling and chasing through the heather as the crown of trees sit high on the horizon, coalescing into a whole. Rising away to the right the long slope of East Cairn Hill and to the left undulating moorland heading for other Pentland Hills thrusting through the soft earth, their rocky tops bold against the dim sky. But the rain held off, almost. A drizzle at the start and again at the end. Nearly some sun as we reached the spirituality of the Bore Stane and its guard of ancient trees. Before then
the lowing of cows in the fields had the dogs looking about. A calm start for them unlike the frisky youngsters in the fields. The only running was to catch up having been delayed by interesting points along the long track. A track broken by a cattle grid and gate. Like a badly spliced film we went from trees and shrubs hunkering around the track, casting darkened shapes about us, to open ground full of sheep, bright despite the dullness of the sky. Then we bore onward, upwards into long grass and heather. The freshness of their striving growth bringing life to the dogs. Ozzy it was who decided it was time to play. Tim at first and then Lucas, But Ozzy wanted more. Gustave had no option but to join in. Darcy not ready yet hung around with Otis and Solo. Solo setting the steady pace up the long incline. But neither suited Cyrano, he explored by himself in the depths of the heather and long moorland grass. The landscape rising away on both sides of us. More steeply on the right. The track wending about a bit to mirror some of the contours. Contours which the dogs ignored as they ran about, now Tim tormenting the others with some heather he had pulled up. The sky was brightening and the dogs were enjoying themselves. There were no sheep up here to hamper their fun and no sounds of guns from the firing ranges to give them a start. The track faded to an outline in the grass. Still wide enough for a Land Rover. Crumbling, faded, silvery grey logs across the track indicated this. There to give purchase to any vehicles taking the challenge. Posing a challenge to us as our feet slipped on the uneven damp surface, even though the grass was trying to colonise them, pushing through the gaps and spreading across their tops giving some grip. Without realising it we had gained quite a height. Mizzled, misty views made a Turner painting below us. Ahead the crown to trees opened slightly to receive us. We had reached our goal. Time to head back. Now Darcy decided it was time to come to life. Had the Bore Stane still some magical power? But had he left it too late, were the others done? With some persistence he roused a group and Ozzy who had looked a little beaten found more energy to race off with him. Only interrupted by Tim, who never seems to lose energy. Lucas, however, was done and he now made up the threesome with Otis and Solo. When Ozzy and Tim backed off a bit
Darcy took up with Gustave. A real David and Goliath. This gave Solo a break from Gustave who was showing tremendous persistence trying to get Solo to play. Walk after walk he does his best. Never defeated by Solos attempts to ignore him. The same today until Darcy whisked him off. We dropped back over the changing track until once more amongst the cows. The dogs tailing off and even feeling jaded enough to sit down for a final photo. The car now in sight a few hundred yards ahead. Nick
Photo slideshow from the walk
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