Day 86 Across the Pentland Hills

Today started with a trip to both the Co-op and the deli in West Linton to gather breakfast and lunch. We had both slept soundly-I managed nine hours-and were ready to leave by 9 am. Unfortunately we both forgot our walking poles and had to get the cleaner to let us back in.

On starting again we headed, as always, uphill. We climbed gently along the old drove road for quite some time before a diversion to avoid some forestry works

Our route took us over Cauldstane Slap. A slap is apparently a mountain pass. We climbed up and into more remote countryside in the hills. The heather is coming into bloom which coloured the hillsides purple. There had been significant rain forecast for today so at the first hint of it we put in our waterproofs. They seemed to act as a talisman, ensuring the rain kept away from us until we were well through the hills, and even then it was pretty minor.

Once we were over the top we felt as if we were nearly there. We weren’t though. It was quite a long way to the A-road and then further still to East Calder. We were definitely in the Central Lowlands now.

The views as we came down were astonishing, partly because I hadn’t expected to see Edinburgh or the Forth bridges. and partly as the clouds were looking rather threatening.

We were happily walking along the path, pleased with the weather, and starting to think about lunch when we came across some cows with young calves. We kept on, not getting in their way until the bull spotted us. He stood up. He took a few steps towards us. We turned and climbed up to higher ground just beside a fence. We thought we’d sit there quietly out of his way but he had other ideas. He made his way to the other side of the fence and started following us, all the while making a noise that, if a dog made it, you would describe as growling. We kept going, away from the cows and he kept following. We didn’t know what to do but we reckoned that we could double back before he realised and make our way past him. Of course, if he did realise what we were doing, then it would be tricky. We set off downhill, curved round out of his sight and headed for the original gap in the fence. The cows stampeded away from us. We scuttled on, heading for a footbridge with a gate. Now I usually grumble about footbridges with gates, but not today. We were through that gate lickety-split, and rejoiced at finding yet another gate beyond the bridge.

After that adrenaline rush we sat and had our lunch, after checking that we really were safe from cows. We carried on up the path to cross the road where we climbed Corston hill. No path, just walk on a bearing of 310 degrees at the second footbridge said the book. We did that, clambering through the heather until we reached the trig point. Where the views were, you got it, pretty good. We followed a path along a spur gently downwards passed a clay shooting range. They had left a red flag up (I thought it was a hiker with a red top sitting on a bench) saying that we should keep out as we might be shot. We ignored it. And we weren’t shot.

We reached a road at the bottom of the hill from where it was a surprisingly long trek to East Calder along the road. Our B and B was a surprisingly long way through East Calder as well. We passed the pub where we had booked dinner (5 minutes walk said the B and B) ten minutes later, we arrived. Fourteen miles done. I don’t seem to have taken any photos after we came down from Cauldstane Slap. Will try harder tomorrow.