the dog rambler e-diary 30 sept

3
 top Walk  A hot day in The Pentlands Length 6.2 miles Dogs on walk Cyrano, Darcy, Dylan, Finlay, Tim What a Scortcha. As The Sun would say. Millions head outside to sizzle in the sun. Join The Sun’s ‘Bring on global warming campaign’. Perhaps I do the paper a disservice. People had certainly headed outside and we were sizzling already, and i t was still the morning. The full heat of the sun was still to hit. With only the cotton wool cumulus clouds drifting about forming and reforming curious shapes there was little chance of the sun being obscured.  As we travelled around, several walkers and runners were splayed out at the side of the path. Great for the dogs as they had eye level contact with them and I could see the mischief in their eyes. And there was a chance of some scraps of food. In return they had to pose to get their photo taken by one jogger having a rest near the top of a climb. It was from Bonaly that we cut our way up into the hill s. First taking on the small White Hill near the car park to test our fitness in the heat. This took us up onto the moors and onward toward and around the shoulder of Capelaw Hill. Finlay the first to find a great wallowing hole. Deep with filthy, stinking mud. He was joined by Cyrano and Tim. Tim almost disappearing into its murky depths. Two tone they emerged. The Dog Rambler E-diary Friday 30 September 2011

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Page 1: The dog Rambler e-diary 30 Sept

 

 

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Walk  A hot day in The Pentlands Length 6.2

milesDogs on walk Cyrano, Darcy, Dylan, Finlay, Tim

What a Scortcha. As The Sun would say. Millions head outside to sizzle in the sun. Join The

Sun’s ‘Bring on global warming campaign’. Perhaps I do the paper a disservice. People had

certainly headed outside and we were sizzling already, and it was still the morning. The

full heat of the sun was still to hit. With only the cotton wool cumulus clouds drifting about 

forming and reforming curious shapes there was little chance of the sun being obscured.

 As we travelled around, several walkers and runners were splayed out at the side of the

path. Great for the dogs as they had eye level contact with them and I could see the

mischief in their eyes. And there was a chance of some scraps of food. In return they had

to pose to get their photo taken by one jogger having a rest near the top of a climb.

It was from Bonaly that we cut our way up into the hills. First taking on the small White

Hill near the car park to test our fitness in the heat. This took us up onto the moors and

onward toward and around the shoulder of Capelaw Hill. Finlay the first to find a great 

wallowing hole. Deep with filthy, stinking mud. He was joined by Cyrano and Tim. Tim

almost disappearing into its murky depths. Two tone they emerged.

The Dog Rambler 

E-diary

 

Friday

30 

September 2011

Page 2: The dog Rambler e-diary 30 Sept

 

 

Finlay was first to everything as he insisted on pressing ahead. Quite a few failures by him

to properly respond to my calls found him in doggy prison. On his lead. He improved as we

made good progress. But today there was not one single chase by any of the dogs. They

were conserving everything in this heat. Even a man and a dog sat beside the track did not 

see them running forward. Instead they waited until we were almost there before trotting

up. Although once acquainted Tim and Cyrano ran about with the dog. Or more like ran

after it. It was a little timid.

With encouragement Darcy would walk ahead of me but kept dropping back. His panting

at my heels a give away to his location and the extent of the heat. He was not alone no

one was too far away from me. Except Finlay on his excursions up front where Dylan

would join him. Keen to be the leader himself.

We toiled up Castlelaw Hill. No red flag flying on its summit today. Therefore no sounds of 

 gunshots from the firing range on its other side. And no sheep nearby today either.

Unusual around this area of The Pentlands. Rounding back from the hill and a murky

puddle across the track had the dogs lying and drinking from its rather unappetising

looking water.

 A welcome breeze blew up as we sliced down the deep cleugh between Capelaw Hill and

 Allermuir Hill. A clear stream at the bottom offering a more refreshing option for the dogs.

But better was still to come for them. We clambered back upwards across the lower slopes

of the massive hillsides of Capelaw Hill to take us the flat mirrored waters of Bonaly

Reservoir.

Darcy paddled out deeply. Tim now swimming by his side. Finlay bounced and then

barked. But I had nothing to throw for him. Cyrano starred in expectation too. Dylan

waited on the bank making an acquaintance with another dog before we set off down over 

Bonaly Moor. A slightly heat faded Edinburgh laid out below us, shimmering like a

Mediterranean resort, dropped below the trees as we returned to the car park. The cool

car sitting in the shade.

Nick