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The rest of Britain was set for a horrid weekend but we had
a marvellous day. Enough breeze to keep the midges away and
not too warm for a bit of hill climbing. Once again, in fine
eagle country we never saw a sign of one. There were seven
young explorers, Alasdair C., Calum, Caulay, Edward, Nicole,
Robbie C.and Sam, plus ten helpers, Andrew L., Anthea, Corinne,
Claire, Gary, Heather, Howard, Johnny, Maureen and Philippa
with Ellie, Honey and Roo acting as responsible dogs.
We parked at old Glenborrodale School and the young explorers
used up some of their surplus energy on the climbing equipment
before we set off. I always worry about taking an expedition
along the road, but we never saw a car on the main road although
a rather surprised driver met us on the track up through the
wood.
The first stop was the hillock known locally as 'Borrodale's
Grave' and said to hold the body of a seven-foot tall Viking
warrior, but I don't believe a word of it. Then we all looked
down into the big ravine, which had bluebells growing on the
slopes. We pushed on up the hill to a possible cairn site
and then on to the little cluster of tanks which form the
Glenborrodale water supply.
A little above the tanks we came across the iron pipe put
in by Mr Rudd a hundred years ago to supply the Glenborrodale
Sawmill, and we followed the pipe right up the hill and across
the forestry fence until we reached the dam. I was pleased
to see it since I never got that far up the hill before, but
we didn't stop there, we climbed a bit further to another
hill where we stopped for a wafer break and took expedition
photographs.
Leaving the high ground we made our way back down to a gate
in the fence but it was locked and the explorers and I climbed
over, while the rest followed the fence down until they reached
a magnificent stile. Honey put up a stout rejection of this
crossing but everyone else was keen and Honey was not won
over so much as heaved over. Very undignified but she bore
no grudge.
The rest of the excursion followed old tracks down the hill,
stopping here and there to examine old cultivation marks,
a super recessed platform and a nest of unusual ants. When
we reached the school, it was decided to make for the Natural
History Centre instead of the Pantry, since we were already
in the vicinity. Such was the excitement of the retail opportunity
that I only got one drawing, Nicole drew the old bent tree
which has Munch's 'Scream' patterned into the grain.
John
Dye
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