Up the Dam valley


Up the Dam valley

5th August 2017

This week up and down Damhead valley running south from the Border hamlet  of Traquair, set in the heart of the Tweed valley. A day of sunshine and sudden heavy downpours, shot blasts of rain disappear quickly on a strong westerly. The returning sun bright and intense, seeding colour and light back onto forest and hillside. The rapid weather changes engaging us differently in the landscape. Sometimes huddled and protected under a leaden sky, suddenly released to a warm uplifting sun. The valley a thing onto itself, as all valleys are, protected places. McFarlane refers to them as sanctuaries that, ‘possess the allure of lost worlds or secret gardens’ * This particular one gathers a greater sense of isolation the further it pulls us from the village below. First a slow drag up , passing a demolished bothy and a strange sort of memorial garden to local horses. Their names listed on roof slates attached to the stone dykes, some recounting stories of horse and rider. A sharp right takes us onto the forest track, leading to the head of the valley.   Sitting just below the path in a small copse of syca spruce, sits a large patch of fly agaric mushrooms. We sidle down to explore further, the lack of light dulling the normally luminous red caps. Our shouted conversation echoing through the densely packed timber. Back on the track we loop slowly uphill through variegated stands of trees. On one steep section the grass covers the path, on either side small tress have seeded themselves in thick swathes of deep green moss, further back tall stands of pine frame  the walkway. The effect is fairy like and otherworldly, as sunlight streams in, sharpening everything. We stop for lunch at the apex of the valley with views back down to Traquair and Innerleithen. Shortly after, the track comes to an abrupt end at a wide turning point, the route now continues along a narrow single path through the trees. Within a few metres we break free onto open field with hills arising above us.  Before us the head of the valley opens out in an impressive ring of high ground, swathed in heather and bracken. Further on we come across a sort of compound, containing a deserted white washed house and numerous outhouses. Our guide book lists its name as Glengaber (glen of the goats), built in middle of the 19th century but no idea on when people last inhabited. Deserted now and gradually falling in on itself, it is home to a large kettle of swallows that swoop and call beneath its eaves. A rough roadway runs out and up over the purple fields, difficult to image this track as sole access to this remote spot.  Reaching a height, the exposed path now shows spectacular views down the valley and onto to other dips and rises of the surrounding countryside. Before us a huge bank of white cumulonimbus dominates the skyline, across its surface a line of dark rain clouds scurry across the whitewashed background. Time changes in the contained space of a valley. Maybe it is the sense of ‘a lost world’, or as a  place removed and separate, but as we are  dis-gorged back onto the tarmac road we cross  back to the everyday and away from a place where time and thought succumb to a different rhythm.   
*MacFarlane R. (2007) The Wild Places. London: Granta

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Up and down the River Tweed

Image
Up and down the River Tweed 8th July 2017 A warm summers day sees us walk a stretch of the River Tweed where it bisects the B6404 between St Boswells and Kelso in the Scottish Borders. At this point the river loops back and forth on itself, carving a path that creates waterside cliffs of red sandstone on one side, on the other, flat flood plains that quickly give way to fertile farmland. We park close to the riverside before crossing Mertoun Bridge to drop to the water’s edge down some timber steps. Our route keeps us close to the water throughout, running three miles east before re-crossing the river on the foot bridge adjacent to Mertoun house before returning on the far bank.   The outward stretch sees the track rise and fall through the dips and hollows of the high ground that lines this side of the river. Wooden steps and walkways allow for easy navigation, the high sections through woodland opening at times to expose slices of the river, glistening and bright in the m...
Read more

Old ways and byways

'Duchess walk' - Bowhill:- Selkirk July 15th At one time ownership of land in Scotland was distributed based on loyalty to King or Queen. From such beginnings the great sporting estates of Scotland were born. Bowhill on the   banks of the   river Yarrow, in the Scottish Borders, is one such example Gifted to the Scott clan in 1322 by Robert the Bruce for services rendered it has,   despite some upheavals over the years,   remained largely intact as a   country estate. The house and gardens are now in the ownership of the Buccleugh family, ancestors of the Scotts. On a damp sultry Saturday we park up on the edge of the estate and take the so called ‘Duchess track’ that provides a circular route of seven miles, through and around this settled realm. Heading away from the main house we quickly find ourselves alongside the tower house of Newark castle. In good condition despite it’s nearly 700 years of existence. One of many Border keeps built to ...
Read more

Stands of dark water

Image
Stands of dark water 17th February 2018 Tucked into the folds of the Border hills lie glistening stands of dark   water. They appear suddenly when cresting a knoll or rounding   a bend or dropping from high ground into the pleat of a hill. All distinguished by location, size and setting, each with its own character and atmosphere. Some are steep sided and lethal, sitting deep into the ground with sharp drops from the surrounding land. Others seem to fit the land better, with gentle sloping access running easily from land to water and out again. Others are edged by trees and undergrowth that need passing before the waters edge is found. In the hills above Abbotsford house, close to Galashiels are two such lochs. The day is grey and cold as we pull quickly up onto the edge line of hills that runs to the south of the B6360. A small plantation of beech trees tops the main hill before   we head off to our right in search of the waymarked path.   The height we have...
Read more