Where eagles dared

Dark Ruberslaw, that lifts his head sublime,

Rugged and hoary with the wrecks of time!

On his broad misty front the giant wears

The horrid furrows of ten thousand years;

His aged brows are crowned with curling fern,

Where perches, grave and lone, the hooded Erne,

Majestic bird! by ancient shepherds stiled

The lonely hermit of the russet wild,

That loves amid the stormy blast to soar,

When through disjointed cliffs the tempests roar,

Climbs on strong wing the storm, and, screaming high,

Rides the dim rack, that sweeps the darkened sky. 

 (John Leyden 1775-1811)

Despite its relative lack of height, at 424 metres, Ruberslaw dominates the landscape of the Teviot valley and would have been the obvious place for a tribal chief to set his fort or oppidum. A climb to the top affords great views of the eastern marches across to the coast including Ruberslaw's greater neighbours, the Eildons, the triple peaked Trimontium of the Romans. 

The hill was used as a signalling station by the legions having been the seat of some Iron Age chiefs before their arrival.

 

The view to the coast

At the top, the outlines of the rampart and ditch can still be seen although the dramatic cleft known as Pedden's Pulpit from its association with the Covenanter preacher, Alexander Pedden, is the result of ancient volcanic forces rather than human design.

Pedden's Pulpit

 

The trig point, now no longer needed for map making has a been re-used with a marker disc showing all the features of the surrounding landscape and a few further afield such as Zanzibar and Mongolia!

The single pair of peewets calling across the hillside was a sad echo of the scores that screamed and sky-wheeled over the pastures of my childhood. A pair of skylarks seemed oddly trusting of my approach. The orientalist, John Leyden, born in Denholm in view of the hill, wrote of the “erne” or eagle perched on “dark Ruberslaw”.

Today, a different sort of bird was soaring from the peak. Hang gliders have replaced the long gone eagles, harried to extinction in this sheep rearing country.

An old friend always meant to climb Ruberslaw and just never got round to it. That chance has gone now so today was a walk for her.

Carpe diem....but dare I try hang gliding?