Day 15 Byrness to Davidson’s Linn. Wet and windy in the Cheviots.

Today I would find out what it’s like to backpack the PW. It was hard, I didn’t like it, I had been spoiled by the support of Gloria and Catherine. As is always the case, despite my best intentions my pack was heavy; I didn’t weigh it but I reckon it was close to 20 Kg.  Food and water didn’t help, although I compromised on the water as I knew it was not going to be a hot day, I was right on that, at least.

Church of St Francis, Byrness. You can have your animals blessed here.

Pennine Way sign outside the Church in Byrness. Disappointingly, this one doesn't say "you are here".

The route begins in the Northumberland National Park of which some 20% is owned by the MOD and is used for training. I am told that in the area I would be walking they only use blanks; nice to know.  As if to underline that, not long after leaving Byrness, the path was littered with spent blank cartridges. I took a photo of a couple of them. I was going to put some in my pocket as a souvenir, in that way that small boys do, but thought of the weight and decided against it.

Spent rounds on the path. What is the MOD policy on littering, I wonder?

One milestone was passed not long into the walk today, the passage across the border into Scotland. You pass through a gate, known as “The Border Gate”. It’s just a gate, a wooden gate just the hundreds of others I have opened and closed since leaving Edale. There is no sign, no checkpoint Hughie, nothing. There is a huge MOD sign warning not to touch anything bomb like, but nothing to say you are about to enter Scotland.

 

The Border Gate

The Cheviots are described in the guidebook as among the loneliest hills in the least populated part of England. I did not find them lonely on a Sunday morning in late September; it was positively busy given that I had not seen a soul the previous day.  This was obviously a popular area for day walks. Needless to say no-one had a huge pack like mine.  Some of the day walkers were painfully slow despite their light packs and I over-took a number up the first incline out of Byrness saying to them that I expected them to catch me up later but they never did.

 

Apparently the Cheviots have a reputation for being big, and …. boggy. I can confirm that both those facts are true.  I knew it was boggy because my feet were wet; my gaiters now have leaks where previous repairs to crampon damage have given way under the constant assault of peaty water. They do, however, at least prevent the mud from sticking to my lower trouser legs up to the knee.

The Cheviots are also renowned for their wind. I can confirm that too.  On the approach to Windy Gyle it was difficult to stand, especially so when you have a pack the size of a five year old on your back. Thankfully, the wind was from the side or behind and not in my face. Then there is the rain, it started raining in short sharp showers and driven the wind it was quite unpleasant. Putting my waterproof jacket on was a test in not losing the jacket.

With the wind and the rain I was glad of the shelter in the first of two refuge huts, along the route to Kirk Yetholm, as a lunch stop. It’s Just a basic shelter with room inside for sitting for a group but very little room for overnight use.  It was here that I met Sean. I thought I had seen the last of Sean and Dave on Day 13, but no there was Sean plodding on with his hefty load. He also informed that Dave had left for Kirk Yetholm the previous day and completed the whole route from Byrness in one go in less than 9 hours. That’s going some with a heavy pack, hats off to the man with no map! Sean was planning on staying overnight in the second of the huts. For me, I felt that whilst the first hut was too close to Byrness the second was too close to Kirk Yetholm, i.e. too far to walk to in one day. It was also a risky strategy given the limited space inside and no obvious water supply for the cooking of one’s tea.

Refuge Hut

One of the many MOD border posts that I passed had been adorned with graffiti over the years and it was fascinating to see dates from the 1960s and 70s still llegible after all these years. I didn’t add to it.

 

MOD border sign with 40 odd year old graffiti

Once over the summit of Windy Gyle. I headed to Davidson’s Linn which had been recommended by several forums as being a good spot for an overnight bivvy  It was a good spot but it appears to have been abused recently by the Quad bike community who have rather trashed the path in and sprayed muck from their attempts at some sort of hill climb competition. I looked around for alternatives but trying to find flat ground that isn’t boggy and near a water source is pretty much impossible round these parts so I stuck with the Linn. Thankfully the Quad bikers did not return whilst I was there. After a short sharp shower I was entertained with a double rainbow.

 

Campsite for the night

Just time for a cuppa, boil some water to fill my water bottle for tomorrow and cook some pasta before dark and then an early bed.

 

Catherine meanwhile was having a splendid day visiting Cragside, the country pile of a Victorian Lawyer turned inventor and electrical engineer. Cragside was the first house to be powered by hydro-electricty.

The fact that I am writing this tells you that I have made it back to Kirk Yetholm. We are now going to the Border Hotel (the official end of the PW) for dinner. Day 16 will have to wait...

AW