It's a deal

Living together is all about compromise, don't you agree? 

Although I do not in all honesty approve of my owner's bicycling habit, I have come to appreciate that her unfortunate hobby is important to her mental as well as physical wellbeing and so we have made a deal. 

For every time that Gail heads out of the house on two wheels to join her cycling buddies for the morning (and sometimes the afternoon too) it is agreed that the next day, or as soon as the weather allows, she will take me out to a place where I can have an exciting adventure, roaming unleashed in the glorious Scottish countryside.

So it was this week. 

When Gail showed me this photo of her pals getting togged up to ride home after an elevenses stop at  the 'Teacake' café in Chapelton near Newtonhill, I successfully negotiated a compensatory walk in the hills, setting off from near Ballater.

It turned out to be a pretty good deal.

Invigorated by the snow, I set a lively pace up the valley towards Morven*, our favourite hill. 

A couple of miles on, we were out of the trees and our way was increasingly impeded by remnant snow drifts

So on reaching the deer fence, with the rounded slopes of Morven glistening white in the background, we called a halt, and after a tasty snack...

 ...it was back down the valley at pace.

Can you believe Gail could hardly keep up?

*Gail says: I haven't taken Bertie up Morven for at least a year, thinking this steep 2800' climb now too much for his 'not as young as they used to be' legs. But judging by the speed at which he raced up and down the far from flat valley on Friday, a round trip of over five miles, I began to wonder if I've been underestimating my plucky wee pup! 

Going Walkabout in Upper Deeside

There are certain utterances you don't want hear when it is getting late in the afternoon and you have already walked more than eight miles across the hills of Upper Deeside, much of it on rough, stony, hard-on-the-paws Land Rover tracks.

"Hmmm, according to the map there should be a footpath here."

"I really think we are heading in the wrong direction."

"This trail seems to be petering out, it must be just an animal track".

"Well my map is over thirty years old, maybe things have changed".

"If you look closely at the contours, I think we should be keeping that gully to the right."

"This is roughly where I saw an adder last time I was up around here".

"It's getting late, I hope we'll get to Ballater before the tea shops have closed".

And you know what? I had tried to show Gail and her friend Henry (over on holiday from Australia) the correct route, but they called me back shouting "this way Bertie!" And twenty minutes later we were back at the same spot and they realised I'd been right all along. 

Eventually we made it down into the valley and reached the wee town of Ballater, where Gail and Henry were relieved to find Victoria's Cafe still open.

(Admit it! You just 'biggified' the photo above to get a closer look at the cake...)

And I would like to point out that, despite Gail telling Henry I might struggle with the final mile and a half back to the car after tea, it was she who was showing signs of aching paws, not me. 

At Tullich, where the car was parked, Henry's 'smart' watch (which incidentally seems to tell you everything except the time) showed us that we had walked 19 km. It sounds so much more impressive than "nearly 12 miles".

A gravy bone from Postman Pat!

Bertie in Glen Muick, midday on 18 November 2017

You might be looking at the picture above and thinking, gosh you are a lucky chap Bertie, living in such a beautiful part of the world with a human who loves to go exploring.

I guess you would be right, but sometimes the best part of an outing is not captured on camera.

So there I was last weekend, trotting along the tranquil farm track on the western side of Glen Muick, when a Royal Mail van - the first vehicle we'd seen - came bowling along.

I don't know about you, but generally I like to walk in the middle of a road if given the chance, and believe it is the responsibility of others to avoid running me down. 

So I ignored Gail's shouts and forced the postman to stop. He wound down his window as Gail, having put me on a lead and dragged me to the side, was babbling apologetically: 

"I'm so sorry, thank you for stopping, my dog has absolutely no road sense...."

The postman had a nice round ruddy face and a wide smile. He ignored Gail, looked down at me and said fondly "ach, you're an affa bonny pup, maybe you'd like a treat?"

And lo an behold he dug into his pocket and produced a gravy bone and offered it to me whole! (Gail normally breaks them in two, or on a bad day three).

This agreeable episode has confirmed my belief that is is always best to stick to the middle of a track, although Gail disputes this conclusion...

After the walk we stopped in the nearby town of Ballater, where a rustic nativity scene was being erected on the green by the church. 

Gail was amused to see that the workman setting up the floodlighting had used the praying hands of one of the Three Kings as a coat hook. 

The Terrible Twins explore Pannanich Hill

Please be aware it was Gail who proposed the title for this post.

I was shocked at her suggestion.

Gail, I said, that is no way to refer to your friend Amanda and her sister Fiona. I mean I know they are twins and all that, but they are really nice, and not at all terrible.

Left to right: Horatio, Amanda, Fiona, Mark and me

Can you believe that by 'Terrrible Twins' Gail actually meant me and my pal Horatio (whom loyal readers of this blog have encountered before)?

We - that is Amanda, Horatio, Fiona and Mark, Gail and I - met up in Ballater on Easter Saturday morning for a walk up nearby Pannanich Hill.


I want you to know that I behaved impeccably throughout - aside from the occasional 'vocalisation episode' - but Horatio's table manners in the hut where we sheltered for lunch left much to be desired…


I still cannot believe that such shocking disregard for meal time conventions was met with a reward...



And that's not all. When everyone was cold and wet at the top of the hill, it was Horatio who held us up for ages, cavorting in a tiny patch of snow like a thing possessed.




As we descended again into the woods we heard some gun shots in the distance and Horatio stood stock still like a statue and refused to shift. In the end Amanda had to pick him up and carry him part of way back.


Twins indeed. It is embarrassing enough that we are the same breed.

Oh Happy Day!

We nearly didn't make it to this year's Grampian Tibet Support Group walk (one of my favourite annual events).

First of all Gail was saying "Bertie, I know your poorly foot is looking much better, but are you really up for an eight mile hill walk?" But of course I told her I was feeling tip top and reminded her that anyway, several of the participants are not as young as they used to be and the pace would not be too demanding.

Then Gail was saying "Oh but look at the weather Bertie, it's bucketing down, maybe we should stay at home today". But I made her check the weather on the BBC website, which forecast the rain would clear by mid-morning.

Then Gail forgot that the drive from Aberdeen to Ballater takes an hour if, and only if, there are no Sunday drivers on the A93. On a Sunday…

So we arrived late. (I will admit that being late is an exceptionally rare occurrence in our household, given a certain person's tendency toward obsessive punctuality, a trait she inherited from Human Grandad).

Oh but I am so pleased I was able to take part in this event once again.

Does it look like I was having fun?

I think it does.

Poorly foot? What poorly foot?

Race you to the top!

Sure I can catch those mountain bikers...

Phew, Gail has remembered my lunch

Oh this is such fun!

Look, I have a rival in the beard department!

It is windy on top of Pannanich Hill

Everyone's furs are in disarray. 

But if I sit here looking cute, some one will surely feed me...

Oh. Gail says I have to show you the view of Lochnagar too.

PS Remember, you have just one more day to enter 'Darwin-lite'.

A work in progress...

 What do you mean only half done?

OK so I know we're meeting my WFT pal Horatio near Ballater on Sunday but do you really think he's the type to be impressed by a smart furdo? 

And by the way, haven't you seen the weather forecast?

PS: Gail's Big Boss has not responded to my letter. Hmmm. Time to phone Ernie….

Butchers shop versus 'the light'

I couldn't help but notice, last weekend over in Torridon, that Gail was taking rather a lot of photographs and most of them did not include me.

In response to my quizzical (and slightly offended) look, she said this:

"Oh but Bertie isn't it all so magical? The snow on the mountain tops and rich late autumn colours aglow in our ever changing gentle northern light."

All well and good, I thought, but what about material for my blog?

And then I reminded her of the fine photo she had taken en route to Torridon, and that magical places come in many different guises…

Phwoarr! Foxy Keira fae Ballater

Gosh I hope Addi isn't reading this, but I just have to tell you about this cute wee foxy lass I ran into when out and about last weekend.

This is Keira from Ballater. We met near the visitor centre at Burn o'Vat. I'm telling you lads she was quite the stunner! If only I had words to describe how excited I felt sniffing her rear end. In fact I tried mightily to get even closer, climbing on her back to 'hug' her, know what I mean boys?

Meanwhile her owner was saying something to Gail about a 'season' as she pulled Keira out of my reach. I guess she was referring to the unusually warm and sunny weather we've been enjoying in NE Scotland just recently...

So after this delightful encounter, Gail took me over to the nearby loch and suggested I calm myself down a bit by contemplating the beautiful water lilies.






It sort of worked.

PS from Gail: Incredibly, given that he is now aged 3 1/2, this is the first time I have ever seen Bertie attempt to 'mount' another dog. Interesting he chose a WFT, when we meet so few of them.