Feet in the clag

I have a free hour this morning and I'll be in just the place, E Junior is going to be having fun 'tubing' with some friends at the Hillend Ski Centre in the Pentland Hills, I have an hour for myself in the beloved hills. Its just before 10am and I was hoping, in the interest of timelaziness to cheat a bit and take the chair lift up to the top of the slope, alas the thing is not running this morning, so I have a bit more ascent than I had planned, better get going you old plodder ...

Grr, the chair lift is not running ...

Being as the top of the chair lift is lost in the mist, I'm guessing the views from the tops are not going to be so great this morning. Factoid time: apparently this is the longest artificial ski slope in Europe. I have a steep start away from the car park and within minutes a bit of a problem ... its a cloud but not the white fluffy kind, I have a personal cloud of flies, I think I've swallowed one already, and quite a few times they've been buzzing around my ears and even getting inside. Most distracting. Not at all compatible with continuous forward movement. Must do something about the ears, and here's the solution, ear buds in, music on, good old hard trance anthems for me today. Carry on, more steep, and a few minutes later I'm up at the fence above the top of the slope, quietly cursing the motionless chair lift.

The steep starts, as does the fly attack ...

... more steep, leading up to ...

... the fence above the ski slope, the chair lift motionless.

The summit of Caerketton Hill is above me, invisible, lost in the clag. Its a short sharp ascent to get there from here and I'll be up there later this morning, but first I am going to slip down past the hill fort and enjoy a sharp descent on a small overgrown trail. The undergrowth is wet today, my legs are wet, which is very refreshing, my shoes are wet, my socks are wet, my feet are wet. When I pull the footwear off, back at the ski centre about an hour in the future, my tootsies will be all wrinkled as if I'd just hauled myself out of a long soak in the bath.

I'll ascend some more later, for now slip around the side of the hill fort ...

... and a steep descent through the overgrown undergrowth.

Enjoying the short descent here I am a little apprehensive about the next section this morning. I plan to follow the footpath alongside the trees to Boghall Glen. I've been along this path many times and while it has its charms it also has its difficulties. In part its the cattle, they use this path, and churn the mud. Not the best running surface in my opinion, when wet your running in ankle deep mud and its hard, when dry your ankles are twisting every which way and its hard. Today it is dry and not too bad, yay. I'm remembering Richard Askwith writing about mud types and names, and musing on possible names for this mud type ... the best I can do is "cowtrod" ... so today I think I am running on dry cowtrod. If this were wet cowtrod then in patches there would be another issue, another mud type, hmm, another name ... and no rude words please ... all I can dream up is "cattlemixed". The footpath runs alongside a fence and an old broken down drystone wall, as usual this means stones underfoot, the old ankles are getting a good workout. Still the scenery is at times alluring.

The narrow track traversing and descending toward Boghall Glen

... a good ankle workout over the stones ...

... and at times alluring scenery.

The footpath here descends toward Boghall Farm where we can switch onto the farm track up Boghall Glen, as a shortcut I'll just head across open land for a moment toward the weather station. I have a bit of work to do ascending on the farm track for a while. I'm remembering a couple of previous occasions running along this track. Fifteen months ago I came up here to witness Sublime Sunset, Snow. Some earlier time I came down here in error, driving home from work on a foggy day I decided a propos not very much to pull on my running shoes and head up into the hills. It was great, running up there in the dense clag was such an enjoyable experience, alas I made a nav error and ended up descending here, on the wrong side of the hills ... had a bit of a long run that evening! Anyway, I digress, this is a farm track and the local hill farmer approaches on his ATV. We pause to chat for a moment and I get some advice on moving through a herd of cattle with calves, very welcome as these are blocking the path ahead of me. The mums all watch me but cause no problems for me, but one frisky little bullock cantering my way adds some spice to the day. I am a bit scared of cattle. Sheep, on the other hand, not a problem, they just run away. The only time I do not like moving near sheep is when they are heavy with lambs and struggle to run, its so easy for them to lose the precious yet unborn lambs at this time. I'm remembering Easter Monday of last year, an amazing early morning out in the hills covered in snow, creeping around the sheep near the Green Cleugh.

Shortcut over open pasture to the farm track at the weather station

Close encounter with cattle ...

... at least the sheep just run away.

Anyway there's been an upside around about the time of the animal encounters and the bullock calf sprint, I've shaken off the cloud of flies at last. Honestly those flies were a plague, they had been following me and pestering me all the way here. Flies in your eyes, not nice. I guess they weren't the exact same flies all the way, but you know how it is with a personal cloud of flies, may as well be the exact same flies. Reminds me of the Australian outback. Its really good news that I've lost the flies, despite the lack of Mr Blue Sky its very humid and I am sweating hard, my hi-viz hi-tech moisture-wicking t-shirt is soaked with perspiration, and I am starting to overheat. There's a tall stile as the footpath leaves the farm track, and I take a moment to sit at the top and remove my t-shirt, it feels good, the evaporation of perspiration from my skin is working, I am cooling. Now I'm thinking about what Jason Robillard has written about hi-tech moisture-wicking running clothing. To my right is Caerketton Hill but its lost in the mist, same as Castlelaw to my left. Underneath my feet is a lovely bit of trail up toward the Windy Door Nick. I approach the penultimate stile and remember this place the last time I was here, the stile was half covered in snow. Oh, since I'm at the Windy Door Nick, its time for a drenching-pool report ... mostly dry, soft and muddy.

The summits are all lost in the clag

Lovely trails leading toward Windy Door Nick

Last time I crossed this stile it was half way up with snow!

Just a little bit of steep up out of Windy Door Nick and along the way I have my first human encounter of the outing, a well clad hillwalker chap who seems quite surprised to see someone shirtless wearing only a skimpy pair of wet shorts (drenched in sweat). (I see one other walker a few minutes later, and that was the total for the out, two other humans.) Now the summit of Caerketton Hill is close and should be visible, but, ah, no the clag, visibility is really only a few metres up here. I love running over the hills in these conditions.

Caerketton Hill ahead of me ... somewhere ...

... I love running here in these conditions!

The last haul up to the summit.

I'm just going to run along the ridge to the last cairn and then decide which of the steep descents to take back toward the ski centre. The cairn is about 500 metres away but cannot be seen in the clag, just as well I know my way around these hills. Soon the cairn arrives and I decide for a conservative zig-zag descent on ever smaller paths. I'll be back in the fly attack zone in a few moments, so its time to pull the t-shirt from the strap of the waist pack and over the head. Big fun going down and acquired a new fly cloud. When I came past the fence over the top of the ski slope, just under an hour ago, I noticed a stile which I've never used before, so that's the way for me today, and it brings me down next to the ski slope.

Cairn at the end of the Caerketton ridge, time to descend ...

... a zig-zag on narrow trails ...

... and tiny trods.

I've made reasonable time and the boys are still at it with the tubing, so I sneak in for a go. E Junior pushes me off with enthusiasm. It is fun, I can see why the lads are happy, but for me, well, I'd rather be running.

The Old Plodder having a go at the tubing ...

... weee ...

... woo-hoo!

The tubing all done, we're a bit over-time, and our group is heading for the cafe now, ice cream for the lads, tea for the dads, but I am still covered in flies. Pretty much everyone has remarked on how I am so covered in flies. And my feet are wet and my shoes are muddy. Altogether not ideal for a cafeteria. I swing by the car, change into casual shoes (retired pair of mizuno road runners), replace shirt with a dark fleece affair, and suddenly ... no flies, zero flies! Learning experience: do not wear high-viz bright yellow shirt running on hills of Scotland on wet days of Summer. Very enjoyable (apart from the flies) short 68 minutes easy going outing this morning, a little under 6km distance, and about 340m of up-down.

Enjoy!