Climb Every Mountain

It’s already September and yet we are still waiting for Summer to arrive. In fact, over this last weekend it almost did - at least we seem to have had an entire weekend without intermittent showers which I’ll take as a positive. So how to make the best use of this belated sunshine. Well, naturally I decided to takes the kids out for an extended session of dog walking. Oh how they cheered at the prospect of being removed from television sets and video game consoles for a few hours.

Peacock Butterflies and not a dead shrew in sight

Saturday saw a trip back to Devilla in Fife and a walk around the woodland. This seems to have seen a good deal of logging since I was last there (which admittedly is what it is there for) but the Forestry Commission has also done a good deal to make it accessible with a new carpark and signage around its labyrinthine pathways. There was also a good deal of nature on display with  dozens of butterflies, frogs, red squirrels and a few birds of prey to see. So what did Jake take great interest in? A dead shrew. The other thing to remember about the forest is that for every mile that it takes to walk out, another mile is needed to walk back. I haven’t walked for three hours for a while. The dogs sort of appreciated this although Eddie ended up moving along like something animated from a Ray Harryhousen film.

I thought I would take it relatively easy on Sunday so I walked the dogs and kids down to the Helix Park in Falkirk. That takes about an hour and a half and it gives the kids a chance to play in the park before being picked up. It was after being picked up that Nina thought it would be a good idea to climb up one of the Ochil Hills. Partly this was because we were looking after our friend's dog – a sort of Staffie cross that is built like a tank and could quite happily pull over small buildings if given the chance. This was actually quite fortunate as whilst walking up mountains seems like a good idea, in practice it is blooming hard work and having a mutt with the pulling power of a Clydesdale is no bad thing.

As it was, we tried to go up Dumyat in Clackmannanshire. The dog made it half way up but Nina thought as it was too hot and it would be better if she took him back down to get some water (yes, I’m sure it was that way around.) I took the kids up to the top although, in the same way that mirages torment the thirsty that an oasis is just beyond the horizon, the summit of hills manage to suddenly go from looking just a few metres away to a distant spectre. I was contemplating this but eventually worked out that they are fractal in nature: the closer you get, the more of them there is. The view at the top was good, at least.

Can I see my house from up here?