A last second thought entered the heads of myself and my brother at the same time: lets go camping. We normally restrict ourselves to the wild weather of winter and the more extreme the situation the better. This time around no such weather was forecast.
Paul decided this trip would be to the usual Davidsons Linn spot in the Cheviots as a good introduction for Joey to these forays. The bog Rottwieller is in prime condition but doubts remained about his overall fitness due to the fact he had a major knee operation when he was younger. At least we had no worries about camp security with the big boy about!
Paul took the direct route up the stone path from the car and managed the journey in a one stopper. Joey handled the trip no problem and managed to contain his excitement at seeing all the sheep who he deemed were potential play partners. I took a different route with a circular that took me up to the border, along past Windy Gyle and then back down Salters Road to our meeting point.
Setting off from my car I managed to do 400m of hard ascent before turning round and realising the car window was left open and the sheep were trying to break in. Bugger. Off with the pack, tie Bob to a post and down we go. When I go under way again the sun was still in the sky with the wind picking up the higher I got. By the time I reached Windy Gyle the place was really living up to its name. I forgot how great it is to slip into the shelter at the top of the cairn and be completely covered from the gusts.
Standing up on the border the grey clouds had long gone and the view could only be described as spectacular with many tens of miles visibility in any direction. I looked all around to realise that in this great desolate place place there was just me standing alone as the sun shone brightly ad my shadow grew longer. All special moments must come to an end and as such the paved Pennine Way was quickly traversed to Salters Road.
I remember the old days when this 300m trip through Kidland Forest was an absolute nightmare and resembled a scene out of The Blair Witch Project. Michael and I would scrabble through mud whilst being scraped by trees and all the while trying not to fall over and remember our direction. Now it’s just one big rocky road but I guess that is progress!
Reaching Davidsons Linn is always a treat. It was 8.30pm and I was expecting Paul to be there already as he doesn’t like to hang around. It was still light so I surveyed the best place to set up camp. This time I’d gone ultra lightweight with a 35 litre rucksack and a single hoop bivvy bag. There was a cool wind blowing from the south so I found a spot behind a wall in the cattle circle to make my bed.
I’ve used a bivvy at this place before but then I didn’t take the dog. this was my major concern about the trip as when I take a tent I know that he is trapped in the tent and can’t go anywhere or come into contact with other animals. With the bivvy I had him tied down to a corkscrew which meant he could wander round anywhere within 5 metres. And he did. All night. Will come to that later.
Paul entered the fray some 20 minutes later as Joey had already picked up Bobs scent and was on the case. We were both unsure how the two dogs would get on as Bob doesn’t take too well to being bugged for too long and Joey likes to assert himself as the dominant dog. Neither problems came to pass and the two hounds got on like a house on fire. Paul pitched on the other side of the river which meant I wouldn’t have to listen to his or Joey’s snoring.
Continuing the tradition of never using the same tent twice Paul had managed to get hold of a Vange which was just like mine but without the porch. A 3 pole setup that looked perfect for situations like this where space was needed for man and dog. Pauls massive 80 litre back pack contained all sorts of delights including 3 pillows, seat, wind shield and a couple of blankets for the dog. He was not roughing it for the night.
It was unusual for us to be there at this time and for it to still be light. We stood round and chatted for some hours whilst the dogs decided to play freely as nature intended. The river flowed past and the water was crystal clear. We took water and boiled it to make two cups of coffee which seems to taste so much better outside in the cold. When it eventually got dark at about 10.30pm the stars started to come out and in an hour the sky was full of twinkling dots.
With Bob strapped down I got into the bivvy bag expecting to be freezing cold all night as the temperature had dropped to around 3 or 4 degrees. Must remember that altitude does that to temperature. Fully clothed and in the sleeping bag and bivvy it became apparent that the choice of location was a good one. Paul was in open space and in the direct path of the wind but he could counter this by being in a tent. I sat in a relative vacuum being wind-free.
The Terra nova bivvy is top notch and can be fully sealed with a gap above the face created by a pole but because Bob was outside on his own I decided to leave the top open and sleep with my hat on. There would be little chance of any animals getting close without Bob knowing about it first. The night proved to be warm and comfortable with the minor hitch that Bob was still in hyper play mode and continued this way until around 3.15am where he settled down until 4am when it got light and started up again. He’s a machine. Looking down I realised I had been trampled on and received a collection of sticks on my feet.
At 5am the stars which had been my companions for the night had disappeared as day came through. I contemplated getting up and heading off in the wee hours of the day but instead I managed another hour lying awake until a big slobbery black head appeared above mine with the unmistakable drool that is Joey. Time to get up then.
Paul tells me of a night that involved Joey being blissfully asleep whilst he drifted in and hour because of the cold. a new sleeping bag had been on his and my list for some time. A cup of coffee and some food set us up for the journey home. Packing up such a small set up made life very easy and saved a lot of time. I can really see the benefits of such a small pack and will keep this in mind if we ever get round to walking the Cullin Ridge on the Isle of Skye. For a trip with a mad dog like Bob maybe it isn’t such a good idea.
The walk home was the easy route back along the road where we saw deer, heron and plenty of sheep. If Joey sees something dart across the road he immediately flips into hunt mode and goes off on the trail. Paul’s hip started playing up mysteriously but we managed to get back to the cars no problem with our souls refreshed from another night out in the open air. In a world of instant gratification and mass consumption it is always worth taking the time to appreciate the things that nature offers up and all its challenges and beauty. We’ll be back this way some time soon.
