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! 

Bad decisions and delusions...

Today, Nature Friday, I want to return to the perennial topic of how humans (mine in particular) so often make bad decisions. 

I would of course hope this week to be bringing you photos of the glorious Deeside seasonal colours, the wooded landscape resplendent in the soft glow of the October sunshine, blah, blah, blah...

But all I have on offer is a city street, and fallen leaves swept into the gutter by yet another autumnal downpour.

Oh bad luck Gail and Bertie, I hear you thinking, it's obviously been raining all week in your part of the world.

However, this is not actually the case. Take for example Wednesday. The day dawned mild and bright. So the first thought of any caring owner would surely be to take their beloved pup for a nice long walk in the countryside. Not a difficult decision. Except...

Gail blithely announces that her Thursday cycling ladies, having carefully studied the weather forecast, have altered their routine and are heading out a day early to make the most of the sunshine.

How could they enjoy themselves while knowing me to be alone and pining? 

Gail eventually came home, all rosy-cheeked and cheerful from her pandemic-compliant bicycle ride (apparently these days her friends have formed themselves, as per current requirements, into an 'organised group' with proper affiliations, a 'Covid officer' and appropriately documented Covid-specific risk assessment). 

She told me how three of the cyclists had earlier in the week taken advantage of another rare window of fine weather and ridden from Montrose down the North Sea coast to Carnoustie then back via Forfar, and how they said it had "felt like they were by the Mediterranean".

MONTROSE "LIKE THE MEDITERRANEAN"!!!!

Hmmm. As much as the experts insist exercise and congenial company are good for our humans' mental health, I have to question if that is the case when said company includes folk deluded enough to see a resemblance between Montrose  (a drab little town situated on one of less enticing stretches of the Scottish coastline) and the Med...

I'm hoping Gail will henceforth decide that going for walks with her very sensible and mentally stable WFT is the better option on a sunny day.

Happy Nature Friday friends! And thanks once again to my delightful friends Jakey, Arty, Rosy and Sunny, for hosting the blog hop.

 

Who's not bouncing now?

Well no soon as I was sprung from prison than Gail was insisting on showing me all the photos from her bicycle tour across Wales.

I'm guessing it would be considered disloyal were I to admit that before long I was thinking I might be better off playing with my new friends in 'camp' after all. You know how it can be with someone else's holiday pictures, no matter how fond you are of that person, one can have too much of a good thing...

(And what's more, quelle surprise, there was the usual disappointing lack of 'welcome back' gifts.)

I am hoping that, having agreed to show you a small selection from Gail's photo gallery, avoiding too many distressing shots of lycra clad middle-aged backsides, then this will be end of it...

So it seems the trip started in Bristol (actually in England) where Gail was a student back in the Dark Ages. Before the ride began, Gail spent a nostalgic day revisiting old haunts, including the house in Montpelier where she lived for three years. Did you know that Montpelier, an inner city area of Bristol, was voted the UK's hippest neighbourhood in 2018?

To reach Wales from Bristol, Gail and her London cycling friends crossed two iconic bridges, Brunel's Clifton Suspension Bridge and the 'old' Severn Bridge.

Once in Wales, the group cycled along mile after mile of pretty lanes bordered by hedgerows laced with bluebells, stitchwort, red campion, buttercups and more...

And up and over hills, including the Gospel Pass and Bwlch y Groes, which Gail insists were a lot steeper than they look in the pictures...

Wales is famous for its castles large and small - those pictured below are in Caernarfon and Criccieth.

Wales is also famous for rain, but Gail tells me that, incredibly, apart from a few light showers one morning the weather was dry throughout.

She also says it was quite warm, although the evidence on this point is not entirely convincing...

And yes that is Gail, back right, taking a wee break with some of her companions on the approach to the seaside town of Portmadog, near the end of the trip.

Apparently Wales is great if you like: quiet roads, pretty scenery, castles, sheep, people speaking Welsh, cycling up hills, clean air...

And not so great if you like: breakfast options which include fresh fruit and a decent cup of coffee...

I should also report that since her return Gail has been rubbing her knees quite often and seems a bit less bouncy than usual after the effort of cycling up all those hills!

Oh and by the way, here is a reminder of what I look like, in case you had forgotten.

Can a dog issue a fatwa?

This all came about 'cos I overheard Gail say she was a wee bit embarrassed at having to give a presentation to some Iranian clients while her face was still all bruised and grazed from last Saturday's bicycle accident.

She mentioned she'd recently read an article in the paper about women being banned from cycling in Iran.

Gosh it seem to me these Mulllah types are onto something here.

Long time readers of this blog will be aware of all my trials and tribulations surrounding Gail's passion for two wheeled transport and exercise.

I had no idea that one could simply issue a decree stating that females are just not allowed to ride bikes. Problem solved!

Come to think of it, maybe we could extend the ban to human males too. Especially the sweaty mid-life crisis types that wear unwise lycra and often nearly run one over in the park of a morning.

Of course I would make allowances for those folks riding bicycles with baskets, trailers or other adaptations to enable transport of one's pet.



Oh, it seems that you only get to issue these decrees if you are some kind of a high heid yin of the Muslim faith.

So where do I sign up for Ayatollah School?

PS Gail apologises to her Muslim friends for any offence caused by Bertie's sketchy theological understanding...

Detecting a worrying pattern of behaviour

I don't know about you, but I watch my human very carefully indeed.

Any deviation from the normal pattern of behaviour, and I'm onto it like a labrador sniffing a treat-filled pocket from half a mile away.

All summer (well what passes for summer in these parts) Gail has been out on her bicycle every weekend for a few hours, and sometimes in the evening after work too. I'm not saying my walks have been neglected, but the snuggling on the couch together time has not been happening quite as much as I would like.

These last few weeks, the bicycle-related absences have been getting longer and I notice Gail has been returning with a face redder than the frame of her second favourite possession (after me).

I note also there have been purchases of what I believe are cycling jerseys, short sleeved  and of material so thin that if you wore them in Aberdeen you would be hypothermic before you'd ridden to the other side of Duthie Park. Long disregarded sunglasses have been excavated from the back of the box room. High factor suncream has made an appearance on the kitchen table.

On the MacBook, Gail has bookmarked Google Earth and the other day I caught her looking at the profile of the 'Loup Loup Pass' on a website called Strava.com.

I think Gail imagines I haven't worked out that for me this betokens imminent abandonment and a spell in prison.

Humans can be so naive.

A new rival?

So Gail sent me a too brief message saying she was having a brilliant time cycling in Croatia and Bosnia-Herzegovina, but was disappointed so far not to have seen any Dalmatians. 

She did however make friends with this good looking girl relaxing outside one of the less picturesque Bosnian cafe stops.

Normal blog service will resume in a few days time.

Unen-JURA-ble

A certain person had better not even think about going anywhere on her bicycle again any time soon.

Yes I have been in prison camp.

Yes I barked so long and loud I lost my voice but did anyone come to rescue me?

They did not.

You know, Gail, I am not interested in hearing any more about your bicycling holiday in the Jura mountains, about the glorious sunny weather, the spectacular limestone gorges, the delicious fondues, the smoothly surfaced and almost traffic free roads, the fresh green meadows resplendent with wildflowers, the endlessly fascinating conversations about the shortcomings of algorithms used in software to calculate elevation gain on cycle computer apps…

At least now I have regained access to my blog I can tell the world how unbelievably hurt I was to miss out on Gail's end of trip rendezvous with my Swiss godmother Tootsie (aka Bicontinental Dachshund). The fact that Tootsie is apparently so cute and well behaved yet also full of character only makes things worse doesn't it? If Gail thinks that I am going to post a whole bunch of Tootsie photos today, then let me tell you, she has another think coming.

And another thing.

How hard can it really be, to find a suitable terrier-friendly present to fit in one of those bicycle panniers?

Please take me with you. PLEASE?

Yes it is that time of year again. Gail is going cycling in France with her friends, and heartlessly confining me to 'camp' for ten days.

Rumour has it she has also arranged a rendezvous with a certain Bicontinental Dachshund and her family at the end of the trip, which I am also going to miss.

Humph.

Normal service will resume on this blog in a couple of weeks.

"Squirty Bertie" protests

It's not nice is it, when you are suffering a bad dose of the runs and your human just goes around making stupid rhyming 'jokes' ...

And then, no soon as you're better, she goes off for a couple of days cycling in the Far North of Scotland with her pals (who, frankly, from the evidence of this photo taken outside the Invershin Hotel, appear to be showing the effects of having ridden all the way from Land's End in the last two weeks...)


And as if that weren't bad enough, it appears that she enjoyed the company of other dogs at a lunch stop in the Crask Inn, north of Lairg....


Then the final straw. She says that on the way back home she saw this porker in a field and his black patches reminded her of me....

Fun in the Sun in Scotland. Yes Really.

Gail says I owe you an apology for putting pictures of such unappealing humans on my last blog post, a shock perhaps when you normally expect to see cute little me and perhaps some of our lovely Scottish landscape.

Well today, and especially as it's Monday morning and you might need cheering up, I am going to redress the balance and show you photos of me out and about enjoying a rare (VERY rare) Scottish heatwave. It's been over 23ºC!

On Friday I went for a bicycle ride with neighbours Mike and Kirsty and their dogs Bonnie and Jack, and then later Gail and I travelled north to Macduff, right by the sea, to stay a night with Gail's friends Molly and Neil. I'm also showing you some photos of a sandcastle building contest on Banff beach, just by Macduff.  For some reason, I was made to stay in the house when this event was taking place, although Gail later reported that other dogs were present. SO unfair. Anyway, Molly's daughter Nancy and her friend Sorley won a box of chocolates for their magnificent effort, well deserved, as I'm sure you'll agree when you see the pictures.

On the Old Deeside Line

I lead, Kirsty follows

The humans refresh themselves, we are left in the shade with a big black stranger

At last, some attention. From Kirsty (she's a V.E.T.)

The return leg. And muddy legs...

At Macduff beach, I join Neil, plus lurcher Maisie and collie Jess, for a paddle

Post-paddle legs

Molly and Nancy hard at work on the sandcastle - Sorley supervises

The prize-winning construction 

 Sorley (holding the prize) and Nancy

The sandcastle meets the fate of all sandcastles...