The forecasts were looking very good for hill walking – some sunshine, very little wind and frozen solid underfoot even at sea level so no mud! We decided upon Beinn Dubh – Glen Striddle Horseshoe. We did this walk just two or three weeks ago but despite promising forecasts we were shrouded in a thick, grey fog for the whole walk. Today our timing was perfect. As we drove into the car park at Luss the early morning clouds started to break and large patches of blue sky appeared. We were rewarded with some great views of Loch Lomond very early on in the walk:

You can just make out the little pier at Luss on the far right

The sun was quite warm and we soon started to strip off layers of clothing:

There was a slight dusting of snow on the (false) summit ahead :

As we reached the snow line the temperature began to plummet and the layers started to go back on:

Ben Lomond in the background

Biggles’ big gob in the foreground

We think the magic portal was around here somewhere. Biggles did sense something mystical and got rather woofy – although it might have just been a sheep!:

Looking back down towards Luss

Very quickly it started to turn into an arctic expedition…although I’m not sure who the sherpas were – me of the Beags!

Eventually we reached the summit where the views were out of this world. It really did feel as if we’d been transported into a magical winter kingdom. And not a soul in sight. There were tracks in the snow but fresh snow had fallen on top of them so it looked as if we had the mountain to ourselves.

The natives looked and smelt a bit strange but were friendly enough:

From the summit, a broad ridge continues around in a horseshoe shape for 5 kilometers or so. We set off on our journey along the ridge with spectacular new views opening up at almost every step:

The Arochar Alps in the distance

The Arochar Alps again. That’s the Cobbler second from left (top). Weather permitting we’ll be up there next week

Boy was it cold up there! The Beags didn’t seem to feel it. We had their winter coats with us but didn’t need to put them on

Looking forward along the ridge…

..and looking back towards the summit of Ben Dubh

All too soon we reached the end of the ridge and stumbled across a second portal to take us back out of the magical Kingdom. We lingered here a while, not really wanting to leave this special place.

But then again, it had been quite a while since Beanie and Biggles had breakfast and there was a lovely scent of sheep wafting up the hillside. Before we knew it we were hurtling through the portal at breakneck speed with a familiar ‘aaarrrfff, aaaarrrrfff, aaaarrrooohhh’ echoing in our frost bitten ears!

In the last week we’ve had a couple of nice days so we took the opportunity to test out our Beagle calming measures in the hills. Sadly, when the fresh air hit their noses all the training went out the window and we spent most of our time arse-surfing on the downhill stretches:

I think we may have to accept this aspect of our little monkeys’ behaviour!

Our first hill walk of 2012 took place in the hills around Straiton – a small, picturesque village set amongst beautiful countryside. Our walk started in the village and climbed up the hill to the monument that you can see on top of the hill in this picture:

Sheltering from the bitterly cold wind behind the monument

Looking back towards Straiton from the monument

From the monument we headed across the moors for a while…

…before arse-surfing down the hill behind our excited, baying Beagles.

The walk continued along the river for a while before crossing a little bridge:

Of course, Beanie and Biggles had to climb up to have a good look:

We continued along a pretty trail for a while with plenty of obsticals to keep the Beags entertained..

…then another steep ascent up through forest trails to a viewpoint on another hill before making our way back to Straiton for icecream and sardine flavoured bones. We’ll definitely be doing this walk again – probably running it next time!

The forecast for today had been excellent – blue skies, sunshine and superb visibility. We’ve had a few hard runs this week so we decided upon a relatively easy hill walk with fabulous views Beinn Dubh – Glen Striddle horseshoe, Luss. Unfortunately the forecast couldn’t have been more wrong. All we saw during the entire walk was dense, gray fog! It was still a fabulous walk – one that we’re really looking forward to both running and walking in better weather. The downhill section was very wet today – almost like a water chute. After slipping and falling umpteen times (with the help of our little angels) we eventually gave up and let them hurtle down the hill dragging us behind them on our bums! T’was fun….and very cold and wet!

It wasn’t really the weather for photos but Paul did haul out the camera for a snap of us on the summit of Beinn Dubh

The first part of the trail winds through a very pretty forest, packed with interesting smells to entertain Beagle noses. It’s only when you emerge from the forest that you get a proper look at Ben A’an.

It looks a lot taller and steeper than it really is. The rocky path up is in great condition and after all the scrambly walks we’ve done this year it was nice to do something short and relatively easy. It would have been even easier had it not been for the wind. We’d been sheltered as we’d walked through the forest, but but it was blowing really hard at the top.  Happily for us, you can’t live with the Biggly Boy without getting well-used to dealing with powerful wind, and the occasional odorless 30mph gust wasn’t going stop Susan & the pups from scaling the last few rocks for their summit photo.

Getting back down from there proved to be more of a challenge however; Biggles pulled off a world-class lead tangle as he tried to find the optimum sniffing position, while Beanie made the most of her special talent for getting under one’s feet.

We’d had to resort to the “bum method” to descend the Cobbler recently, but this was the first time I’d seen anybody using the “belly method”..

Does this remind you of the rock climbing scene in Mission Impossible II? No, me neither, but then Tom Cruise didn’t have a pair of naughty Beagles tied to him!

Fortunately this unplanned rock climbing stunt concluded without any casualties, save for my trousers and abdominal muscles (I peed my pants a little bit and had sore sides from laughing). I took a couple more shots from the summit, then we headed back down to the shelter of the forest.

On our previous visit the walk back to the car had been dominated by Biggles’ woofing and baying frenzy, but this time he was a model of self control. His silence allowed us to hear all the ambient noises in the woods, and it was pretty spooky..

The forest was very densely populated with tall trees – so much so that they would rub against each other in the wind, generating all manner of scary sounds. We heard creaky doors, rusty gates, ghostly whistles and tapping coming from all directions. Biggles seemed oblivious to it all, but Beanie frequently paused and looked round trying to identify the source of the noises. Very Blair Witch.

In due course we made it back to the car without any disappearances, and without anybody standing in front of the camera with an excessively runny nose (Beanie & Biggles’ noses are moist, but not runny).

At the start of the walk we were shrouded in mist and couldn’t really see much at all. However, it didn’t really matter as the first Kilometer of the walk winds up through the forest. As we emerged onto the open hillside the mist seemed to evaporate in an instant leaving some lovely views.

Looking back across the forest to the hills on the other side of the Loch.

Looking ahead to the three summits of the Cobbler

A good, not-too-steep path leads most of the way up the Cobbler.

Of course, Beanie and Biggles manage to complicate even the easiest of routes by one parking her bum exactly where you were about to put your foot whilst the other unexpectedly lunges in the opposite direction:

There is however a very steep climb up to the distinctive, rocky summits.

Beanie and Biggles stop to admire the views just below the little ridge between the Northern and Central summit.

If I look a bit tense in this next picture it’s because I’d just accidentally wandered a little closer to a sheer drop than any sane person would want to be whilst attached to two crazy Beagles!!

The Cobbler has three summits, but only the North and central summits are accessible without climbing skills. We headed up the North summit first. There are some scary sheer cliffs once up there, but the route up isn’t exposed – although it is a bit scrambly and tricky with two inquisitive little Beagles in tow!

We start to make our way up the North summit – you can see the central summit behind us and the infamous ‘eye of the needle’

The North summit – it was a busy little hill today!

The views from the North Summit were amazing!

Beanie and Biggles made lots of new friends:

Nothing like sharing a meal to cement a friendship

Up until this point Beanie and Biggles had been surprisingly good. In fact a lot of people commented on how well behaved they were. But as we started to scramble down the North summit they figured this was the ideal time to go off on a noisy Beagle frenzy. There was much baying, squabbling, lunging and general commotion. We reluctantly concluded that with all things considered the safest way was to shuffle down on our bums! It’s one thing to have to use the “bum” method at all, but it’s quite another to have to do it when your dogs are ensuring that all the other walkers see you. Very embarrassing. But then embarrassment is a way of life with our two mutts

By now the central summit was shrouded in thick mist. There didn’t seem much point in going up if we couldn’t see anything. We hung around for a few minutes to see if it would clear then headed back down saving the delights of the central summit for another day.

The route up the back of Cobbler. You can just make out the ‘eye of the needle’ on the central summit. Our destination for Monday, weather permitting

…until Biggles visited for the day and his distinctive warning siren echoed across the waves to Ireland.

We’d been planning a day trip to the Mull of Galloway since our return from the West Highlands last week and had just been waiting for a sunny day. Quite unexpectedly we opened the curtains on Friday morning and saw clear blue skies and sunshine. We bundled the pups in the car and were on the road within half an hour.

We’d only been out of the car for a couple of minutes when Beanie and Biggles noticed a sign instructing them to “walk this way”. At least, they think that’s what it said. They oblidged with their usual noisy enthusiasm and really couldn’t understand why mum got so upset.

The Mull of Galloway has two fog horns. One is big and red and the other is tricoloured and goes by the name of Biggles”

After exploring the lighthouse and foghorn for a while we headed off on our cliff-top walk. We’d actually planned to run the 10k trail but sadly the sunny day came along when we were really all due a day off from running. So we opted for a walk this time instead and I’m actually very glad it worked out that way. The scenery is just stunning and you really don’t get to appreciate the views quite so much when running. The route runs along the edge of the cliff tops of the West side of the Mull for about 4 kilometers before heading across country then following the East shore back to the lighthouse.

I wouldn’t say that I suffer from vertigo, but I do have a healthy fear of danger. So I was a little alarmed when I saw large warning signs on the gate at the start of the route saying “Dangerous Cliffs – Proceed at your own Risk”. Beanie and Biggles clearly read something very different from me and lunged through the gate and bounded along the path before I had too much time to think about it. You don’t have the option to walk further inland as the farmer has erected a fence to stop live stock toppling over the cliff edge. You’re forced to walk on the cliff side of the fence.

At some points the route ahead looks quite daunting – sheer cliffs with waves crashing against them and the little path winding precariously close to the edge. It’s tempting to reach out and put your hand on the fence to steady yourself. But as I discovered to my cost it is actually an electric fence!

It’s not long before the views back toward the lighthouse start to look truly stunning.

To give you an idea of scale, that tiny dot on the top right is Beanie, Biggles and I!

I don’t know if you can make out the little white dots on this picture? That’s sea foam. The wind was so strong that it was blowing blobs of foam all the way up from the sea and carrying it quite a distance inland.

There are a couple of very short sections where the path winds down to a little rocky beach, but it quickly winds back up onto high cliffs.

This is about as far as the path goes before crossing through fields to the East coast. If you look very closely you’ll see the lighthouse way off in the distance. That’s where our walk started, winding all along the coast. It looks as if the lighthouse is on an island but it is actually connected to the mainland.

The trouble with this time of year is that you run out of daylight very quickly. But fortunately we had the lighthouse to guide us safely back to our car.

After a fairly strenuous trek over the hills we finally descended onto a very flat grass plain that leads onto the beach. The little abandoned village of Peanmeanach sits on the edge of the beach with half a dozen or so little crofts layed out in a semi circle looking out to sea. One of the crofts has been restored to create a bothy – the remainder are just roofless ruins. It’s hard to imagine that people actually lived here. It’s so remote, and the only route in is over the hills or by sea.

On the way back Beanie made the most of her final birthday outing by bounding through the heather at the side of the path. It was lovely to watch but it made the walk more taxing. The last thing you need while traversing bogs and slippery wet rocks is an unpredictable and surprisingly forceful sideways tug from a playful Beagle girl, so of course that’s what we got. By the time we crossed the little railway bridge near the end of the walk we were tired out, but what a great trip we’d had!

In the morning we walked to an abandoned crofting village called Simirisary and then on over the hills to a beautiful white beach looking across to Eilean Coille and other small islands.

Our hearts sank when we got our first view of the village and the flock of sheep happily grazing amongst the old buildings. Fat chance of ‘Brother Biggles’ sticking to his vow of silence. Actually, we’d have been fine if those darn sheep had just stood still. But they bolted and our Beagles went ballistic! Biggles was so outraged he kept his woofer turned to eleven for the rest of the day.

The road-less village has long since been abandoned but many of the ruined cottages have been restored for use as holiday cottages.

The path from the village to the beach is really quite dramatic – it takes you through bogs, across streams and along a cliff edge before descending to a lovely secluded beach. The only other way to get to the beach is by boat.

Beanie and Biggles explored every nook and cranny of the beach:

Searched for crabs in the rock pools:

And STILL the recently ex-communicated Brother Biggles was mouthing off about those sheep:

After lunch we set off on a 10k run to another secluded beach. This time the route itself wasn’t as spectacular – a little section beside a loch then along a bog standard forest track. It did however take us into an area known to contain unexploded WWII munitions; we passed a couple of big red warning signs cautioning us not to disturb any metal objects we might find. Beanie & Biggles of course couldn’t read the signs but that was just as well, because telling a Beagle not to do something is a sure way of getting them to do it as an act of defiance.

Against all odds we made it to the beach without getting blown up. The beach is called ‘Singing Sands’ due to the low frequency sound that is generated when you shuffle your feet along the beach. Even on a dull day it has the feel of a tropical island. Beautiful white sand, lovely blue-green sea and white frothy waves crashing on the beach.

Here’s a short video clip of the run. We actually look more ‘spritely’ than we felt in this video. The previous day’s hill climb had really taken it’s toll on our poor old legs!

We set off at the crack of dawn on Thursday morning and got settled in with just enough time left for a walk up the Pap of Glencoe before darkness fell. At just 742 metres high the Pap of Glencoe isn’t a particularly big mountain but its steep and distinctive cone-shaped summit is a real landmark in the area around Ballachulish.

We’d read that the final ascent is very rocky and scrambly – which makes for a very tricky descent when attached to our Beagles. We decided to invest in a pair of cheap walking poles to see if they’d help any. I found them to be a real hindrance on the way up – they made me feel (and look) like an OAP. I can’t comment on how helpful they might be on the way back down as the boggy slopes of the mountain had swallowed the bottom section of both poles before we reached the summit leaving me with two useless stumps.

We approached the summit at about 5.00pm leaving us just an hour and a half to enjoy the views then make our way back down before dark. As I scrambled up the final few feet it occurred to me that Beanie’s line was much longer than Biggles’ – how could that be? She was now quite a distance from me. Then it dawned on me – her lead had somehow unclipped and my wayward little Beagle girl was loose on a mountain. I forced down the sheer panic building inside me and called out a cheerie “Beanie – here!”. I can’t tell you how relieved I was when my little angel turned her head, wagged her tail and trotted over to me. Clearly she hadn’t realized she was loose – if she had, I think she’d have legged it in search of the bellowing stag on the neighboring mountain and we’d have been shivering at the top of the mountain in pitch darkness waiting for her to get bored and come back to us!

Beanie safely back on lead. The views are so spectacular in all directions that we couldn’t agree on what way to look!

We got back to the car just as darkness fell.

Biggles, or Brother Biggles as I should now call him, has apparently taken a solemn vow of silence. I can think of no other way to explain how we managed to walk to, and return from, the summit of Schiehallion with so few aarffing incidents.

Unlike the human vow of silence, it seems the Beagle version doesn’t require complete abstinence from vocalisation. There are exclusion clauses covering minor woofings related to:

• sheep
• postmen
• people with strange hats
• sisters who steal your place on the sofa

Clause#1 saw some use just as we exited the Braes of Foss car park and started our ascent, but this aarffage was half-hearted and very shortlived, exactly in line with Biggles’ vow. Thereafter he stayed quiet – even when we passed another couple with a very woofy Wiemaraner – and we made it to the start of the rock-strewn upper section of the mountain without any illicit outbursts.

An excellent path takes you a fair way up the mountain

But after that the route becomes increasingly rocky

Pretty soon, you’re having to pick your way over and around rocks of all shapes and sizes

It’s a walk that should be attempted by only the most intrepid explorers

We passed a few other walkers, some with  sticks and even hats, but Biggles managed to keep his peace.

Soon the small pile of stones marking the summit came into view, and still Brother Biggles kept his vow of (almost) silence.

Made it!

At the top we discovered a lone red rose that had been inserted into the cairn by an earlier walker.

It was a lovely gesture, which Beanie repaid by knocking half of the cairn stones right back down the mountain.

Er.. Oops

Visibility wasn’t particularly good this time around – we’d seen a lot more of the surrounding scenery on our previous visit – but the great thing about Schiehallion is that its rocky terrain is a view in itself.

The scents at the top were great though; Beanie and Biggles stood virtually motionless for minutes at a time as the mountain breezes brought new aromas to their eager noses. Only the opening of our traditional summit sandwiches snapped them back out of their nasal “condor” moment.

Having surrendered a sandwich each to our Beagles, we packed up and set off back down. This is always the most testing time for our little boy. I don’t what it is about going down a mountain that excites him so much, but if he’s going to have a serious aarrfing session, it’ll happen on the way down. This time however, it didn’t. I had both Beanie and Biggles tied to me for the return journey and though they were eager to keep moving neither of them fell into a baying frenzy. We did admittedly get a very minor outburst from the two of them as we passed by those pesky sheep near the bottom (again), but it was over in seconds. Well, a couple of minutes anyway . OK, five minutes at the most, but as already stated a brief sheep-related aarrffing session is permitted by the Beagle Vow of Silence. Susan was so pleased with Biggles’ new found self control that she picked him up and gave him hugs and kisses when we got back the car.

Very embarassing, Mum! I mean, I’m three years old now, you know?

During the long drive back we stopped in Aberfeldy for fish & chips, and some left-over fish and a couple of chips somehow made it into Beanie & Biggles bowls when we got home.

One other notable feature of the Lakes is the preponderance of silly names, like “Lesser Craggly Bottom” and “Wrinkly Winklethwaite”. It’s as though an ancient naked hippie went scampering through the entire region on a cold windy day and named everything after parts of his anatomy. To be fair I should confess that the above examples aren’t real, but what about “Skiddaw”? If it makes you think of soiled underwear you’re not alone, yet that is the actual name of the fourth highest, and possibly most visitor-friendly, mountain in the area.

There are two popular routes up to the top of Streaky Underpants; one goes from Keswick town centre, while a shorter 6 mile trail starts in a car park part of the way up. Due mainly to shortage of time (we’d only just set up the caravan and there wasn’t much afternoon left) we chose the latter.

The Howell Memorial, near the start of the route

The path quickly steepens and begins to zig-zag which provides a great excuse for taking frequent breaks and admiring the views that open up almost immediately.

After a while the path splits; you can continue straight on through a gate to go direct to the summit of Skiddaw, or you can branch left and take in a couple of minor peaks before rejoining the main path. We were keen to get the most out of the walk so we took the left branch, and consulting the guide I discovered that the two peaks are known as “Lesser Man” and “Little Man”. It’s kind of a shame they didn’t call the first one “Little Boy”, because our little boy definitely enjoyed the scramble up to the top!

The summit of Lesser Man, marked by a pile of stones and twisted metal, with Little Man beyond it.

Little Girl and Little Boy lead the way

It’s windy up there, with lots of flapping ear action

Looking back at Lesser Man..

And forward toward Little Man

We now rejoined the main path to the summit of Skiddaw. Thanks to the high wind and many groups of grazing sheep, it got pretty wooffy up there.

The remaining walk to the summit was easy going, if cold. We passed a few little cairns and improvised shelters on the way, and as I stopped to take photographs I fell behind.

By the time I approached the final rise I’d completely lost sight of Susan and our two Beagles. I took out the camera and zoomed in on what appeared to be another adhoc shelter, and suddenly a Beagle head popped up into view. After a second it disappeared, to be replaced by another Beagle head at a different point along the “wall”. This second Beagle bonce also disappeared and I had to wait through several more iterations of Whac-A-Beagle before I saw them both together.

Susan was sensibly huddled inside the windbreak, but Beanie & Biggles’ insatiable curiosity compelled them to keep trying to venture up and over the stones.

To give you an idea of just how windy it was up there, take a look at Biggles’ mouth-malfunction. It reminds me of Space 1999, where they represented intense gravity by blowing a strong hairdryer in the actors’ faces.

The summit..

And one of the views from it

Needless to say we soon headed back down, but this time I took charge of our two intrepid adventurers. All those scree paths that had been so easy on the way up became treacherous slides on the way down with Beanie & Biggles doing their best to pull me over, and I started to feel that maybe Skiddaw was an appropriate name for this mountain after all.

A brief moment of calm before the frenzied pulling begins again!

The next day the weather gave us rain, and lots of it. We filled the morning by visiting Aira Force, which had clearly benefited from all the extra water that was now feeding it.

I like posing for photos but make sure you’re holding me tight, Mum!

We retreated to the caravan and hoped the rain would die down..

Just so we’re clear, I’m not going out in that rain again, OK?

Just as we reached the decision to brave the downpour once more, it abruptly ended, and we spent a very pleasant late afternoon in Whinlatter Forest.

Apparently our Beagles quite like swings!

Next day, we managed a quick trip to Castlerigg stone circle. I was half expecting Biggles to cock his leg against the stones, but he and Beanie were oblivious to them, preferring instead to roll in the plentiful sheep poo on the site. I got a few shots of the stones as a grey clouds made empty threats of more rain, and then exposed a little more of our “Mighty Oak” car air freshener (to combat the twin Beagle air defresheners) before we headed back home.