It was the end of December 2008 when the first “Where the Fatdog Walks” blog took a tentative step into the world of social media. I think it’s fair to say that FD and I “had a good run” over the next three and a half years.
With the loss of Maisie in 2012 it was always going to be difficult to replicate the blogging highs of those 3+ years but with the arrival of Mabel and Lottie (both Labs) later that year I was always hopeful that we would be able to get out and about again and carry on with those crazy adventures. Sadly that didn’t happen. For a variety of totally different reasons I wasn’t able to take the dogs into the hills and once I’d walked the dogs locally my ageing carcass wasn’t up for taking any further punishment. On a number of occasions I gave it a tentative go both in terms of hiking and blogging but in reality the glorious expeditions of the Fatdog days had ended. About a year and a half ago I accepted that I would not be going back up into the mountains.
But all is not lost. A rather sad event has led to an opportunity to once again head out the door and find some adventure although of a much less strenuous nature than what has gone before.
At the end of November we had to say goodbye to Mabel. She’d been with us for 10 years arriving only a couple of months before Lottie. Mabel must have been the most unlucky dog in the world – it seemed we were never out of the Vets surgery; but vet visits not withstanding I’d never met a happier dog.
Mabel 20/08/2012 – 25/11/2022
With Mabel gone we decided that Lottie needed to be out and about much more often than we’d been able to achieve with both dogs. Now that I had only one dog to deal with it also meant I could do more – and take Lottie with me, something I’d not been able to do with both awkward canines.
So…as therapy for both myself and Lottie I decided that we would kick off a new set of adventures – back into the murky world of geocaching. For those of you who remember my. previous exploits many years back you will no doubt remember the silliness that ensued. I expect it to be no different this time around. Only a few days back I joined a Facebook group – you will not believe the skulduggery that goes on in such a “polite” hobby! But that is for another day. Thank you all for having been with me all through the years. I would be most pleased if you would care to join myself and “Not Fit for Purpose” at our latest venue https://thereluctantgeocacher.co.uk/ .
I think Covid restrictions were getting to me. The PC had been disconnected and stored below the desk as I waited for better days. On reflection it was probably a mistake trying to write about the great outdoors while cooped up in a region about 17km by 17km with no significant wilderness to speak of. Trying to escape the presence of another 150,000+ other souls stuck in the same locale also proved to be a thankless task. My normal version of social distancing tends to be far more extreme than current restrictions – something I had practised quite successfully until the onset of Coronavirus. But enough of my sociopathic tendencies. It’s time to reconnect the cabling, press the ON button, and produce reams of interminable ramblings. Welcome back, yet again, to “Where the Fatdog Walks”.
‘I know, I said I was going to write a new story.’
‘What, you want to hear it now? But I’ve still to write it’
‘Ah I see, you want a story before bedtime.’
‘If I tell you a story then you’ll go to sleep and stop pestering me so I can get on with writing this blog post?’
‘Ok. Once upon a time…’
’When your legs don’t work like they used to before’…Ed Sheeran
Once upon a time I could jump in the car, drive to whatever mountain I so chose and then trundle my way upward without giving it a great deal of thought. These days I would prefer to jump in the car and then drive it all the way to the top of said mountain and miss out completely the hard bit in between. Age is creeping up and I am having to reassess my capabilities (or lack thereof). I suppose it would be no exaggeration to say that my current capabilities lie so far towards the bottom end of the scale that I am pondering whether I will in fact manage to complete my intended walk of around 7km or whether I will have to suffer the indignity of having J pick me up in the car at some point yet to be agreed. Given I am still having “odd moments” courtesy of some strange goings on in my neck, J is in favour of her following me around in the car – just to be sure!
There are not too many places of interest within walking reach of my house. The closest is a short hike up to an old drove road that was the final leg of the big livestock drive from the west of Scotland to the market at the Tryst (Larbert) from about 1785 all through the 1800s.
There is approximately 60m of ascent to get through today. It is some indication of how unsure I am of my condition that I am treating this 60m with as much respect as a long haul up say, Ben Nevis. I reckon it will be a two hour walk so I had better take something to munch…just in case I have to sit and wait for the car.
Ah, yes…my snack. You see I go shopping on Tuesdays and this is Monday so there are no snacks left. What is left is my 2 year old granddaughter’s nibbles. Oh well, needs must.
The troops are not happy at my departure. Two black wet noses are pressed against the glass of the living room window as I leave. Given I’m not even sure if I can make this trip on my own there is no way on earth I’m going to involve either of those two hairy reprobates.
About 20 minutes later I’m about midway along the first, more modern, section of the old drove road…and it is heaving. I’ve been up this way a few times over the years and it has always been a haven of solitude. However with the building of the new hospital some years back and the subsequent development of the surrounding woodlands with improved paths and trails it has become somewhat busier. Lockdown has not improved the situation with incredible numbers of people having discovered that they can actually do things with their legs as opposed to only using them to move from sofa to fridge and back again.
(please remember to click on the individual photos to see them full screen)
This is merely a temporary setback. One thing I have noticed about the new breed of urban based lockdown walkers – they do not like weather – and they especially don’t like mud! I know that once this tarmacked section of road takes a very sharp left, the much narrower, original cobbled, section of track which leads straight ahead will probably be deserted. And so it comes to pass. One tiny patch of mud at the start of the old road and they are gone…like midges in the breeze. I increase my speed to take a run at the slight rise in the track and the increasingly lumpier surface. In my mind I am seeing this…
…in reality I am feeling the drag on the leg muscles so I opt for a slightly more pedestrian pace until the track plateaus out some 70m further on, where the old drove road is briefly interrupted by a bridge over the M876 motorway. There is a completely forgettable view from the bridge – I include a photo – to give you the opportunity to completely forget about it.
At last! I am on the section of the old drove road that I really enjoy. The road is shown on the 1819 Grasson map and has probably changed little in the 200 years since it was surveyed.
Ah, yes…maybe apart from the large, gleamingly white, wind turbines.
I’ve poured over quite a number of OS maps of various dates in the past day or so and there has been almost no change to the road since the earliest map was surveyed.
[Click on photos to bring up gallery]
And now…my pride and joy for the whole day!
I know, it’s only a gate, but I manage to squeeze myself through that hole where there is a horizontal spar missing! I am most impressed. I am even more impressed that, having squeezed through, I am able to straighten back up again without any serious mishap in the lower back department. I am on a roll!
Over the fields to the north lies the ruin of Torwood castle, former home of the Forrester family. It has been around since about 1566 which is, strangely enough, the year I believe my legs were built. Or so it feels. Actually I’m feeling pretty good. I’ve by now covered 3km very easily which is much better than I anticipated. The new boots are performing well and given I had only worn them for about 40 minutes before today’s walk I am pretty chuffed that there are no odd little aches in the foot department. As I amble along it’s nice to see a bit of colour beginning to appear in the hedgerows – the gorse is coming into flower. Spring is on its way.
[Click on photos to bring up the gallery]
The drove road sits on a low ridge above the River Carron. It’s difficult to photograph the views from up here, everything is so distant. Fortunately I come across old wall which gives me a decent viewpoint. In the distance you can see the famous Falkirk Wheel; a huge boatlift connecting the Forth and Clyde Canal with the Union Canal. I have reached the track’s high point and am calling it a day. I have completed my 60m of ascent so it is time to turn around and head back home.
THE END
‘Right you two…that’s the story all told.’
‘Are you going to go off for a sleep now so I can finish up here?’
‘Ah, it was THAT interesting was it’
Addendum
Now, I was going to drivel on about my return journey through Larbert Wood and how I spent the last 20 minutes of my 7km walk with ever tightening leg muscles as I wound my way back through the various housing estates on my way back to the house. But I won’t bore you with the detail. Larbert Wood is pretty small and uninteresting as woods go but we are so short of that type of amenity that it has become the walk of choice for just about everybody in the area. It has however one redeeming feature…it’s pond. I took these two photos some years ago which I think show it off at its best.
Today’s occupants seemed relatively pleased to see me…
I realise this would not be a “tail” without some form of canine input and as you have all been very good and not made any nasty comments about my ascending limitations I will finish with a couple of shots from eight years ago. Both the photo and the video clip are of Mabel as a puppy and were taken at the same spot as I took the photos of the coot and the swans yesterday.
…and finally, of course, the inevitable music segment today brought to you by the JSD Band one of the first Scottish folk rock bands I ever came across.
It will come as a great surprise (to anybody who knows me) that I managed to find a photograph of me smiling. I did find one though – it only took me 12 blogging years, but there it is. These days every time you click on a post I am grinning at you from the right hand side of your screen. Off-putting isn’t it 🙂 . However that well cropped photo only tells a small part of the story. The reason I am actually smiling? The next three photos will explain a lot.
I think you can see where I am coming from now. Afternoon tea (a few years back) at the Signet Library in Edinburgh’s old town. Yes, afternoon tea – I really know how to party hard! Which brings me neatly to today’s music choice…
Oh, before you blast your ears off with Iggy Pop, I’ve just begun writing a brand new (as in walked it today) “tail” . It is sadly missing a canine component although I may relent and throw in some gratuitous material. Goodnight all.
Where The Fatdog Walks 