Total miles: 13.1
Elevation gain: 1,908 ft
Time walking: 11:15am – 6:30pm
Miles to date: 873.3
Oh. My. Goodness. Wow! The Cheviots! Today has been an AWESOME day! Absolutely stunning. Definitely a contender for one of the best days yet.
The first few hours of the morning were taken up with the usual bothy tasks…finding a loo spot, hunting for firewood, fetching water, making tea and breakfast and getting everything packed up and tidied. It always takes longer than I expect but it is an enjoyable part of the day, provided I’m not in too much of a rush to get going. The valley was peaceful, a morning hush lay over it, not a soul to be seen. I wondered whether I was going to go three days with barely seeing any other people – this was one of the most remote stretches of the country after all. My tea, granola and banana tasted amazing, they always do eaten outside in nature!
All too soon I had to leave the cosy little bothy and find my way back to the Pennine Way. Someone had mentioned in the visitor book that they had come down to the Hearts Toe lookout from the Pennine Way and along the bridleway to the hut so I thought I’d try that. The bridleway wasn’t at all clear despite being waymarked so I took the track to begin with, and when I got to the bridleway a bit further on, still not terribly obvious, I headed off into the undergrowth. I was quickly beaten back by head height bracken and no sign of a path at all. Frustrated, I double checked the map, and my GPS. There was definitely meant to be a bridleway here! After yesterday’s escapades I really didn’t fancy fighting through more undergrowth though so I looked for an alternative option. Following the track a bit further on looked like it would take me within about 50m of the permissive path that led from Hearts Toe to the Pennine Way. Thankfully those 50 metres weren’t too tricky to cross and although the path was barely visible there were signs of people having passed that way and it ran along the line of a fence which turned out to be the fence which marks the border! It wasn’t the easiest path but at least it was a path and I was back on track!
It was strange, knowing I was at the Scottish border. It felt like such a major milestone, I still can’t quite believe I’ve made it this far! I spent a lot of the day walking along the border fence, crossing it a couple of times but always ending up back on the English side.
The Cheviots were beautiful and showing themselves off at their finest. A gorgeous sunny day, nobody to be seen, a few sheep here and there, just miles of rolling golden hills and endless sky. This was what it was all about! Across the way I could see clearly the lines of former walls and banks of the old roman fort of Chew Green. The path goes right past it but up close you could almost not realise it was there. It was amazing, knowing that roman legionaries had lived here thousands of years ago. The roman road, Dere Street, crossed here and I’d pick it up again in a couple of days. It must have been a remote spot even then, but what else did they need other than space, a stream and a route to and from wherever the next town was?! I had a quick break sat on one of the grassy banks, eating my peanut butter and jam sandwich that I’d made back in Bellingham, feeling rather content. Suddenly up on the hill, silhouetted against the sky, I saw the unmistakable shape of three hikers. People! I assumed they must be coming towards me so excitedly got up and got ready to move again.
Heading slowly but steadily up the hill I kept an eye out for the hikers but they were nowhere to be seen. I started to wonder whether I’d imagined them, or mistaken sheep for people, and it wasn’t until I was well along the ridge that I finally saw them again, up ahead. It turned out they were in front of me, heading in the same direction. I’m not sure how I hadn’t seen them earlier but there they were. It was quite nice to know there were other people out there, even if they were ahead of me.
After a little more walking, some great views over into Scotland, a couple of hills, a few boggy bits and a lot more sky, I spotted the first mountain refuge hut (there are two on this final section of the Pennine Way). And…people! The three hikers I’d seen earlier were just disappearing over the top of the next hill as I crested the hill coming down to the hut but there were five other hikers down there eating their lunch. Suddenly I wasn’t quite sure I did want to see people, I was getting used to having the hills to myself! As I reached the hut a group of four of the hikers were just setting off again, and the other wasn’t far behind but he was there long enough to have a quick chat and to compare notes. I then sat in the sun and enjoyed my lunch – cheese, ham and crisp sandwich – glad of my food prep in Bellingham! The refuge huts are much more basic than bothies, basically just small wooden huts with narrow benches, but people often sleep in them on this stretch if the weather is too wild for full on camping. I imagine they are incredibly welcome on wet and wild days!
As I was getting ready to head on, fuelled for the next few hills, two more hikers came down the hill towards me. I couldn’t believe this – the wildest stretch of the Pennine Way and I’d nearly seen more people than I’d seen on the entire route! The two hikers, a man and his son, arrived at the hut and exhaustedly dumped their bags on the ground. They looked tired and hot, and, by their own admission, rather unfit. The size of their bags (very large!) suggested they weren’t seasoned hikers and campers and they told me they were new to this, and that they were walking the Pennine Way to get fit. I’m seriously impressed. The PW is tough, and walking it north to south is a tough way to start! They had taken two days to get to this point, having stayed at the other mountain hut last night. It turned out they’d stayed there with Sean, who had told them to pass on his best wishes if they saw me! I love how that happens when you’re out on these trails. A real sense of camaraderie. The father and son were taking it steady and were wild camping so they could be flexible with how far they went in a day. I told them of a few potential wild camping spots I’d seen along the way this morning, including the option of camping at Chew Green where there was the stream. I really hope they enjoy their trip and they make it, it will be an incredible experience for them.
There were a few more tough hills and lots more stunning views, until eventually I make it up to Windy Gyle which is one of the bigger hills in the area and has a massive pile of stones atop which sits the trig point – it’s distinctive and can be seen for miles around. It also was not as windy as the name suggests! Often it is gale force winds up on top but this evening it was still and sunny. At the top I see the guy I’d been chatting to at the hut, chatting to another man who had walked up just to camp. What a spot! There is a perfect flat grassy spot on top of the hill, I can see why they say it is popular with wild campers, and he had pitched his tent there ready for a glorious sunset, clear skies and sunrise in the morning. I asked him whether there was any water close by, he said there wasn’t and he had carried his water in, but he told me of a pretty waterfall down in the woods not far from where I had been planning to camp. He also said it was possible to camp next to the waterfall too. I was a bit dubious about midges and water but figured I would go and check it out and at least get topped up with water, even if I came back up on top to camp.
The guy I’d chatted to at the hut headed off in front (he was aiming for the second hut for the night) and I followed in his footsteps, we both went the wrong (Scottish!) side of the fence and struggled through some boggier sections before realising there was a flagstone path on the English side, doh! Clearly we weren’t the only ones – the fence looked like it had been hopped over many a time! At the point where I was leaving the path (to walk down Chennel Street, another Roman road) I caught up with the hut guy again (still didn’t manage to get his name..!) as he’d stopped to chat to another wild camper in another gorgeous spot. Everyone was out today! We admired his tent etc etc and then we went our separate ways. As I dropped down the hill on a nice clear path I sussed out some potential camping spots in case the waterfall wasn’t suitable. It was a beautiful evening and it seemed a shame to drop into the trees, and as I joined the forest track that led down through the conifers I was pretty sure I would come back up to camp. That was until the track emerged into a beautiful shallow valley, sun shining on the heather on the opposite side, a little bridge crossing over the stream bubbling along at the bottom and a gorgeous waterfall. As the wild camper had said, there was a perfect flat grassy spot right by the stream just above the waterfall and there was even the remains of a fire, in a rustic but robust fire pit made out of large stones. Ok, I am so camping here, I don’t care if there are midges!! I dropped down to the stream and quickly put the tent up. The midges did appear (although thankfully not quite as badly as at the horrible midge-infested spot at Garrigill) so I layered up and decided I would get a little fire going in the hope the smoke would keep the worst of the midges at bay. Thankfully the last people had left a fair bit of wood as there wasn’t much in the immediate vicinity, despite the surrounding trees (the woods have clearly been well-plundered previously!). So I lit the fire but kept it small and smoky, and it did seem to help with the midges. Water collected from the stream, dinner ‘cooked’ and I sat on the log by the fire feeling incredibly happy. The moon was even out and beautiful above the trees. What a perfect spot! At one point I heard a helicopter approaching and suddenly it appeared low above the trees, flying a bit further down the little valley across to the other side. It soon came back, this time flying up the valley, right over my head, really low. I half feared that it had come to check out my fire but I think it was just a military helicopter practising its manoeuvres. Probably using me as target practice! It was loud and quite scary though, but it has only come back once, when I was in my tent.
It is cold tonight. I guess I am camping at an altitude of about 400m so much higher than previous nights, and I think being by the water cools it down too. For the first time this trip I have pulled the hood of my sleeping bag tight around my face and I think I will need to dig out my woolly hat too! It has been a glorious day, one of the best, and I am looking forward to my last day of the Pennine Way tomorrow. I have a feeling I will be sad to finish it though!