Barnard Castle to Darlington: E2 Day 61

A walk down the River Tees, edged with trees, in the sun, the last day of my current trip.

I had 33 kilometres or so to walk today and a train to catch at the end, so I started early with breakfast in bed with food I had bought last night. As I walked through the Sunday morning, empty streets of Barnard Castle, dawn was a glow in the east. At a park on the outskirts a lady was out with her dog, ghostly with its eerie green lit collar. It reminded me that although still two weeks away some of the shops already had Halloween displays, wrapped with yellow and black tape saying "Enter if you Dare". Later, in Darlington I saw mothers and children carrying pumpkins down the street.

As I walked over the riverside meadows, the sun still below the horizon, rabbits ran from me, squirrels scurried up trees, and a flock of birds in flight, turned and wheeled, gathered and separated, black against a sky of translucent orange and blue. Based on their distinctive calls, my BirdNet App named them as Jackdaws.

Although a riverside walk, owing to the trees on the banks, the water itself was either hidden, or visible only in gaps between the trees, the sun reflecting brightly off it surface. Near Barnard Castle the river ran fast, cascading over ledges of rock and boulders in the river. Towards the end of the day it had grown larger, and although moving swiftly, with turbulent eddies, there was less foam and no splashing over rocks, a more mature river. Although the river had travelled no great distance from its source, it had grown rapidly, filled by streams and brooks joining it.

River nearer Barnard Castle. 

A sign at Egglestone Abbey Bridge stated that the next bridge at Whorlton was closed. As my planned route, based on my guidebook, crossed this bridge, a rethink was required. Fortunately, from Middleton there seemed to be paths on both sides of the river, so I stayed on the north side to avoid the closure. When I reached Whorlton Bridge, it looked permanently closed with metal fencing keeping you off it. A great sadness as it was a 19th century chain suspension bridge of no little interest. I would gladly have paid the 1d toll advertised in order to cross it. The next bridge also had a story. As part of a television series a Spitfire plane had flown under the masonry arch. While it was a wide arch it must have taken courage. I idly wondered if they had cut the encroaching tree branches back to ensure no accidents (they did). A small bronze, metal cast of a Spitfire was attached to the bridge to commemorate the event for those who knew the story.

The closed Whorlton Bridge. 

I deviated to Gainford Spa, an important sounding name for a small fountain beside the river where I tasted the sulphurous waters as they spewed out of something that looked like a large stone vase. It tasted unpleasant. A lady with a small dog said it was better if you let it settle, or used it to make tea. Apparently it was a great success with the Victorians.

At Gainford village I was hoping for a café, but the establishment my guidebook was presumably referring to was a rarely open fish and chip shop. However a local resident assured me there was an excellent café at the farm shop in the next village of Piercebridge. And so it transpired. I enjoyed a latte, leek and cheese tartlet (in which I could really taste the cheese) and a slice of fruit cake (with refreshingly few ingredients just flour, butter, juicy currants, sugar and carrots(!), no funny additives), all excellent.

Being Sunday there were plenty of people about, old men with flat caps and dogs, ladies with white hair blown about by the wind, couples, older and younger, eager spaniels and laidback, black labradors, and a few older children joining their parents for a Sunday stroll.

After a day in the sunshine, walking by the trees edging the river, or around nearby fields, now increasingly sown with grain crops, I reached the outskirts of Darlington. Needing to catch a train I left the Teesdale Way at the first opportunity and walked into the centre of town. Busy for a Sunday, with kids standing around or kicking a ball, there were bars and coffee shops open. Having a few minutes to spare I had a coffee before catching a train from the large, old red brick and vaulted glass roofed station. 

Path beside the tree lined river.

Middleton-in-Teesdale to Barnard Castle: E2 Day 60

A change in scenery today as I left the Pennine Way and followed the Teesdale Way beside the River Tees through trees and farmland to Barnard Castle.

Not being in a hurry I had breakfast in a café this morning so as to see a bit more of the village than was possible last night. After agreeing that Middleton-in-Teesdale was a jolly nice place, the chatty owner mentioned that five of her staff had been down with flu. I wondered if flu had been the cause of my runny nose, tiredness and aches this trip.

When I finally left the hotel it had begun raining heavily. Fortunately it did not last and the sun appeared creating beautiful views of the River Tees with the surrounding trees starting to show their autumnal yellows. Gusts of wind pulled at the trees, creating brief storms of flying yellow leaves. Today's walk on the Teesdale Way was a complete contrast to the harsh, high fells of the Pennines, with its lack of trees or shelter from the wind. Instead I was walking through farmland rather than moors, often beside the river and among trees of beech and oak, acorns and beechmast crunched under my feet, dark green holly had bright red berries. In the fields the grass was a lush green, well tended and even, rather than the tussocky reeds and heather the sheep contended with in the windswept mountains. The Tees and its tributaries had cut down into an older, landscape of modest hills, giving steep, high, tree lined river bluffs. At times my path rose and fell on these slopes, rudimentary steps had been installed on the steeper parts, and footbridges crossed incoming brooks. At other times the route left the river and climbed over fields. Others were also enjoying a Saturday walk beside the Tees, we passed with muttered "hellos".

River Tees seen through the trees.

The countryside today was a contrast to the high Pennines (in the far distance) and other mountains I had been crossing. 

The path went through several wooded sections. 

On the way today were two villages, Eggleston and Romaldkirk. Pretty places, built of the local sandstone with a green, a church and a pub, but no shop or café that I was aware off. Fortunately, I spotted a sign for café not mentioned in my guidebook (a woeful oversight). It was at Eggleston Hall Gardens, just after the village. There I enjoyed a latte and slice of strawberry cheesecake marooned in a lake of cream. I looked in at the gardens as well, a large part of which was devoted to selling plants. After Eggleston Hall the path split into two, one each side of the river. Both were waymarked the Teesdale Way, with the insignia of a dipper, a cheerful looking bird. I chose the branch running on the south side of the river as this was the route described in my guidebook. 

Periodically on the Teesdale Way there were cast iron sculptures looking like chimney pots which marked the parish boundaries. An example of the public art that makes some of Britain's footpaths a bit more interesting. 

Another example of public art, a sculpture on the path side.

Coming into Barnard Castle I diverted to see the castle ruins that gives the town its name. Dating from the 12th century they stand on a cliff above the river. I looked down from the walls at an ancient bridge crossing the Tees which illustrated what a commanding position the castle occupied. 

Barnard Castle ruins.

Feeling I was spending too many nights with a beer or glass of wine in my hand, tonight I opted for a traditional meal of fish and chips with mushy peas and bread and butter, washed down with a pot of tea. A super supper. Returning to the rooms I am staying in above a pub, beneath me I can hear the hubbub of the male, Saturday night crowd and an amateur (I hope) singer having trouble reaching the high notes. 

Today's trip was a modest 19 kilometres, tomorrow will be more trying as I hope to reach Darlington railway station, some 33 kilometres away, before the last train leaves for home. 

Some comments on the Pennine Way

I have commented on the Pennine Way before. My only additional insight is that it is a lot more enjoyable to walk in June rather than October. Better weather, greater camaraderie, especially if walking from south to north as most people do, more flowers, and more places open (in particular Forestview in Byrness).

Dufton to Middleton-in-Teesdale: E2 Day 59

One of the most scenic stages of the Pennine Way today, a long day with rain in the morning and sun later.

My day began with a climb up to High Cup Nick. A dramatic glacial valley...if you can see it. Of the three times I have walked this way, it has only been visible once. That was not today. As I climbed up out of Dufton, I climbed into the cloud. A herd of black horses, merging with the grey mist, grazed in the wet atmosphere. Sheep were numerous on the rough grazing, glaring at me as I walked by, before stalking off. At the top I could see the towers of rock at the edge of High Cup Nick, but not the valley bottom through the mist. The first time I walked this way I was relying on my compass to guide me through the cloud, finding the right direction, if not on the right path. This time I had my GPS with a map and route loaded, so I could follow the Pennine Way with more confidence, and in greater safety. 

Looking back towards Dufton as I climbed into the cloud.

Looking down High Cup Nick.

As I continued towards the Cow Green reservoir the rain picked up. The wind blasted the drops against my side, in a manner that was becoming more frequent over the last few weeks. The harsh, empty, treeless landscape seemed to match the weather.

On reaching the Cow Green dam, I had to climb down the rocks beside the waterfall of Cauldron Snout. With the recent rains the Snout was in full, foamy flow, tinged brown, dropping in closely spaced cascades over layers of rock. I moved cautiously over the wet rocks, set among heather on the steep slope, using my hands as well as my feet. The subsequent section, where the path is trapped between the youthful River Tees and cliffs, had some difficult parts where you have to cross boulder fields. In my youth I would have moved easily, stepping quickly and easily from one boulder to the next. But now I moved with great caution, aware that a slip could result in some injury, maybe a broken leg. Even last year when I walked this way, I was moving sufficiently gracefully that a group of bird watchers asked me to pass. They were looking for a "ring ouzel", like a blackbird with a white collar. As I ate my lunch on a rock, glad the rain had stopped, I looked for such a bird, but without success. I had seen many grouse today, included a black one. They seem to just stand around waiting to be shot. As I approach they fly off moodily muttering, moving slowly with their frantically flapping wings. An easy target I thought. 

Cauldron Snout, the foam peaty brown.

After a length of more open landscape the valley again closed in, and the moors began changing to more cultivated farmland. An unusual area of juniper bushes caught my attention, a little before a group of quarry buildings which were busy crushing and sorting rock. High Force was a substantial waterfall on the Tees, the foaming water falling over the hard rocks of Whin Sill, which I first crossed at Hadrian's Wall, and which was also responsible for the waterfall at Cauldron Snout. Some miles later Low Force had a smaller drop. Only yesterday, I was close to Tees Head, the source of the Tees, but by today it was a fast flowing river.

Drystone wall snaking up into the moors.

The distance from Low Force to Middleton in Teesdale was rather longer than I recalled from my previous trips, with sections I had no memory of. However the weather had improved, and although the fields were not yellow with buttercups as they had been when I last walked this way, at least the sun was shining and as a passing walker commented, it was a "cracking evening". The evening sun was bringing brightness to the changing colours of the autumnal trees, rich oranges and yellows mingled with the remaining greens.

Evening light on autumnal colours. 

Alston to Dufton: E2 Day 58

A sunny day with excellent views from Crossfell the highest point on the Pennine Way.

Leaving Alston the Pennine Way took me up the valley of the River South Tyne to the village of Garrigill.  My path, in the shadow of the sun on the east side of the valley, was white with frost. The crisp blades of grass outlined with ice crystals. On the other side of the valley the morning sun highlighted bright green frost free fields bounded by dry stone walls, and dotted with sheep. The river ran brown and fast, sparkling in the sunlight among the yellow and green leaves of the October trees.

Morning frost.

River South Tyne.

Arriving at Garrigill, thinking as I have on earlier trips that it would benefit from a tea shop, I looked in at the Post Office for a banana and bar of chocolate. Then I started the long climb up to the first of four summits I would cross today. The gravel road wound up among the heather covered moors. Grouse stood and muttered to themselves, then flew off as I came close, squawking with much flapping of their wings. As it was grouse shooting season I thought they ought to keep their heads down, out of sight. Other sounds included the trickling of water from unseen streams, and as I climbed higher, the noise of wind in my ears. Around me empty moors, stretched far away, cut by valleys, with few signs of any human settlement.

Empty moors north of Crossgill.

Renovations at Greg's Hut.

I climbed past the spoil heaps of an old mining operation. Low ruins of  buildings, their drystone walls blending into the surrounding rocks, were tended by sheep. Surmounting a rise, my next milestone came into sight - Greg's hut. There was much activity at the hut. A person who thought the hut saved his life (was he caught out in bad weather I wondered) made a generous bequest which was being used, together with donations from an appeal by the Mountain Bothies Association, to completely renovate the bothy in a traditional style. Builders were finishing the roof as I arrived. Stone flags were being used as slates on the new roof. The local builder in charge said the roof timbers had been replaced, sarking boards had been installed, new windows would be arriving shortly and cast iron guttering was in place with new drainage ditches. Work could not start until the nesting season was over and they were now battling the weather. The remote location did not help. The builder was proud he had used an ancient Egyptian technique of laying the stone "slates" on sand to stop them being cracked on the trip up the rough track to Greg's hut.

Leaving the workmen I continued to the summit of Cross fell, at 893 metres the highest point on the Pennine Way and my walk so far on the E2. As I ate my lunch, the walls of a drystone shelter on the summit provided a limited barrier to the cold wind that was blowing. In front of me I looked over to the mountains of the Lake District, the visibility was far better than on my previous visits to these mountains. 

After Cross Fell I had three more summits, Little Dun Fell, Great Dun Fell and Knock Fell. Owing to the Air Traffic Control radar dome on top of Great Dun Fell, the Pennine Way did not quite reach the top of this mountain. 

After the excitement of reaching these summits in good weather, from Knock Fell down to the village of Dufton, the path seemed long, wet, tiring and poorly signed. My knee was painful and refusing to bend properly at the stiles. There were also mud and cow manure covered farmyards to be negotiated. It was a long day at 32 kilometres and over a thousand metres of ascent, although it was the descents that my knees do not like. 

Stone slabs designed to make walking easier are under water. Either they have sunk or there is too much water.

I booked into the YHA at Dufton, showered and then visited the busy pub opposite for a a pint and a thick slice of chicken and chorizo pie. A reward for a long day. Finding my way back to the hostel, just the other side of the green, was made difficult by the lack of street lighting. After peering at a few buildings in the gloom I am now back inside.

Greenhead to Alston: E2 Day 57

A wet day over moors and fields of sheep, rather than on the old railway that I followed on a previous trip.

Breakfast was yoghurt sprinkled with granola followed by avocado and poached eggs on toast, it was that kind of hotel! Then I had to leave its cosy warmth. As I retraced my steps back to Pennine Way, the rain began. It continued with a few, brief intermissions until I arrived at Alston seven hours later.

I had a choice today. I could either stay on the official Pennine Way all the way to the village of Alston, or I could switch to the South Tyne Trail at Lambley. The South Tyne Trail follows an old railway line, nearer Alston there is a section of narrow gauge heritage line on which steam locomotives run at weekends. On previous trips, based on a recommendation in my Pennine Way guidebook, I have walked along the South Tyne Trail, enjoying its tree lined sections and the viaduct at Lambley. However, having claimed to have walked the Pennine Way, today I thought I ought to complete the official route. 

In general I thought the guidebook was right. The Pennine Way runs through heather filled, grouse filled moors and sheep and cow pasture. There is plenty of this on other parts of the Pennine Way, whereas walking along the old railway on the South Tyne Trail gives a different, more unique experience. Maybe the weather, wind and rain in my face, mud and lack of clear paths made my view of this section unduly negative. However even the National Trails website suggests this will be your least favourite day on the Pennine Way and they seem to have incorrectly assumed part of it was on the old railway line!

Looking down the South Tyne valley from the Pennine Way. 

Pennine Way going below bridge of old railway. 

There were some redeeming features. Part of the trail followed the route of an old Roman road, so ran straight over the hills. As I walked I wondered how the legionnaires knew where to build the roads given there were no accurate maps. A section of path ran alongside the River South Tyne, an attractive water course of tea brown water running over rocks and stones. In better weather I would have found it attractive and worth loitering. Finally, there was a Roman fort, Epiacum, or at least the earthworks associated with it beside the trail.

Owing to the rain I walked without stopping all day, so on arriving at Alston I was hoping a café would still be open. Sadly not. So I enjoyed a Magnum ice cream in a shelter in Alston's Market Cross, then a coffee from the petrol station. 

On checking into the Youth Hostel, the kindly receptionist whisked away my wet boots and, more bravely, my wet, possibly smelly socks to be dried. Having showered I am now at a nearby restaurant, full from a relatively healthy meal.

Hadrian's Wall to Greenhead: E2 Day 56

A shorter day's walk along Hadrian's Wall.

It was a bit far to walk from "The Sill" YHA to Alston in one day. I did it last year (in the opposite direction), but a year older, I do not feel anywhere near as fit and my limbs creak more (have I got "Long  Covid" I have wondered)? Consequently today I "just" walked 16 kilometres from The Sill to Greenhead. This included a circumnavigation of the village as the Pennine Way goes all the way around it rather than through it. On previous occasions I ignored this circuitous route and headed straight for the tea shop in Greenhead (a common ploy I expect), but today I had the time to follow all the turns of the Pennine Way, leaving it to reach the village on an overgrown footpath from its western side.

After being (slightly) restrained with myself at the "All You Can Eat" breakfast, I climbed back up to the ridge on which Hadrian's army built his defensive wall. Looking down as I followed it west, I could in places see the "vallum", or ditch that runs parallel to the wall to the south. Beyond that cars drove along the "Military Road", a "modern" road built along the wall in the 18th century due to the difficulty of moving troops from Newcastle to Carlisle.

Cows read about a turret on Hadrian's Wall. More intelligent than you might think!

A section of Hadrian's Wall with the remains of a Milecastle.

Two quarries straddled my route, which once exploited the hard dolerite rock of the Whin Sill on which Hadrian's Wall is built. These quarries destroyed sections of the Wall at a time before historical heritage was appreciated. Today the quarries, once filled with explosions and the noise of machines, were sites for picnics, car parking, toilets (locked) and the quiet enjoyment of nature around bodies of water filling large holes from which the rock had been removed.

Walltown Quarry, now a Country Park where Hadrian's Wall once stood. 

Having visited Thirlwell Castle on my last trip I continued onto a golf course where the grounds man on his machine made sure I knew I was on the Pennine Way and told me where it left the course. Having crossed the busy A69 road I left the Pennine Way to walked back into Greenhead on a footpath that the famous walker Alfred Wainwright might have used on his "Pennine Journey", described in his 1938 book. The footpath seems to have been little used since, it was difficult to see any track across the rough, reed filled pasture. One of the fingerposts had fallen down, and the steps going down to re-cross the A69 supported good sized weeds.

My first objective in the village was of course the tea shop for lunch, followed by checking into my hotel. My evening meal at the Greenhead hotel was the most expensive, and unusual of my trip. Starters was flakes of fish with little bits of strawberry and yellow beetroot with a sort of salty soup. For the main, an unusual sort of beetroot called crapaudine, turnip shaped but beetroot coloured, with various fungi, kale and venison, served suitably rare. One of my more memorable meals, and the portion size left room for me to enjoy bread and butter pudding for dessert. 

Bellingham to Hadrian's Wall: E2 Day 55

A sunny day in which, after an overlong walk in Wark forest, I reached the famous Hadrian's Wall.

Breakfast at the Cheviot hotel was, my stomach felt, very generous. So much so that it dissuaded me from my plan to buy some lunch at the Coop or bakery opposite. So suitably replete I began my trek south.

Initially there were fields. Often I was confused about where the Pennine Way exited these fields as the path was lost among sheep trails in rough grazing. Still full of breakfast I did not visit the "Pitstop" with its offer of coffee and chocolate in a little shed on a farm. There were a few other stops of interest. I stood for a while watching a farmer, riding a quad bike, driving a flock of sheep across my path at what seemed like a high speed, his collie dog racing around the back of the animals to keep them in line. A cliff edged river of fast flowing brown water after a fern lined valley was a welcome break in my trip across the Northumberland farmland.

Typical post marking Pennine Way in middle of field.

Reaching the Wark forest, another commercial plantation, there was an "Alternative Route" to avoid storm damage on the official route of the Pennine Way. I knew of this detour from the National Trails website, but seeing the sign saying "Alternative" made me think the proper route was still passable. However as they had made the effort of signing an alternative route I followed that. The National Trails website implied that the diversion did not add much distance. This was incorrect. The roundabout route along forestry tracks added around five kilometres by my estimate. Although mainly on good gravel roads, a section of the track lacked adequate drainage and I struggled to avoid the large pools of water by climbing over the surrounding heather.

Finally free of the forest I crossed a series of ridges among long grass, honey coloured in the afternoon light, to reach Whin Sill, a ridge formed by an intrusion of molten rock into the surrounding strata, millions of years ago. It solidified into a hard, dolerite stone that forms a cliff facing north. An ideal location for Hadrian's Wall, designed to keep the barbarians to the north out of the Roman empire. To the east of where I joined the wall there was a garishly painted, roofless house. I assumed it was the work of errant graffiti artists on an abandoned building, but my research has indicated that it was meant to be an artwork celebrating 1900 years since the wall was built.

Line of Hadrian's Wall, the Roman Empire would have been on the right of it. Light was a bit dull, not so good for photos at this dramatic location.

I followed the Wall for a few kilometres. This part of the Wall has a particularly dramatic setting looking over the surrounding countryside from the high ridge created by the Whin Sill. There were plenty of people about, walkers and visitors. An important historical site where once Roman soldiers patrolled the boundary of their empire, it is a UNESCO World Heritage site, and an inspiration for "The Game of Thrones" and other stories. Some of the Wall is thick and I assume the original, 1900 year old construction, although it was once much higher. Elsewhere it is only one stone thick and I thought this a more recent wall which nevertheless followed the line of its Roman predecessor. 

After explaining to another walker where the Pennine Way went, as opposed to the Hadrian's Wall Path, another National Trail, I left the Wall to walk down to the "The Sill". This is a rather modern "Discovery Centre" and Youth Hostel. I was too late for the café but picked up a coffee in the shop and looked around an exhibition on the subject of "Landscape", based around the idea of "Natural Capital", the sum of all the natural resources available to us. Not sure if I learnt anything. I had been expecting something on the origins of the Whin Sill, or maybe the Roman occupation. It did fill in the time until I could check into the Youth Hostel for the night, somewhat misnamed as it accepts over 60s like me. Quite different from when I first stayed in a Youth hostel when you had to do chores, like sweep the floor and there was a 10:00 pm curfew. Nowadays you can buy a glass of wine and food. I also paid to have a private room. While not adverse to dormitory accommodation, like most older men I now have to get up in the night to visit the toilet once or twice. Having one's own room means you do not have to disturb others.

Byrness to Bellingham: E2 Day 54

A tiring trudge against the wind through forestry and open moorland.

Candy floss pink clouds in a blue sky greeted me as I emerged from my tent this morning. Their beauty was offset by a cold, damp wind, reminding me of the coming winter. Somehow the wet, windy cold of Britain is more chilling than weather of a lower temperatures in other countries. My cold, damp socks and boots were not helping. Although my boots are waterproof, to a degree, after days of splashing through water, some eventually penetrates and the waterlogged trails and cool weather does not allow them to dry.

The first part of my walk was through the edge of the Kielder Forest, a gigantic (for Britain) commercial tree plantation. While the forest roads gave fast walking and shelter from the wind, the endless sitka spruce trees were monotonous, lacking the varied interest of more natural woodland.

Commercial forestry of Kielder Forest, a smaller birch tree, its leaves turning, has sneaked in among the conifers. The gravel road is the route of the Pennine Way.

Leaving the trees there was a long length of moor of heather, grass and reeds. There were few sites of interest on this long march. When I last walked it in June 2021, I had the company of another Pennine Way walker and their explanation of their PhD research into Woodcocks made the walk more enjoyable. Today it was a trudge against a headwind which had restarted my runny nose. I passed a Pennine Way walker coming in the opposite way, he was going to give up that evening. Later I thought I should have encouraged him, reminding him there was only another 1 1/2 days walking after Byrness before he could claim his half pint and certificate. The condition of the path was not helping my mood. Unlike when I last walked it in summertime, there were many wet and muddy patches. Avoiding them meant dealing with very uneven ground of heather hammocks, I was also helping to extend the width of the path. In places awkwardly arranged rocks on the path did my knee no good.

Moorland section, the Pennine Way runs through it somewhere.

On reaching Bellingham I was immediately attracted to a sign for a tea shop at a Heritage Centre. The café was in an old railway carriage. My mood immediately improved as I enjoyed my lunch. Through the window, beside the "platform", was a bird feeder. A pigeon was pecking at the seed on one side and a collared dove on the other, watched by a jackdaw. Something made them fly off, a flock of tits materialised, taking their opportunity to attack the seed. I almost expected the carriage to lurch forward leaving the scene behind, but there was no train and no railway line, so I left and continued into the village. 

The zip on the flysheet of my tent is starting to fail, opening up where it should be zipped. Running the zip up and down was only a temporary solution. Concerned that it could deteriorate before my trip was over making camping difficult to impossible I did not have too much trouble persuading myself to stay at the reasonably priced Cheviot hotel at Bellingham, where I had enjoyed excellent meals on previous occasions, rather than at its campsite.

Windy Gyle to Byrness: E2 Day 53

Lovely scenery over the rounded hills of the Cheviots, but I was feeling tired.

Clear sky greeted me this morning as I left my tent. The sun had not yet risen but it was being announced by a pinkish glow on the horizon below darker blue skies, a few stars still sparkling. A few strands of cloud on the skyline were catching the light. Although a fresh breeze was still blowing, it was much reduced from last night when the flapping flysheet made me concerned as to whether the tent would stay intact. Fortunately the pegs were firmly in, holding the tent in place, so I had difficulty pulling them out this morning. 

Sunrise over the Cheviots.

As I walked along the ridge line that the Pennine Way followed, I marvelled at the way the morning sun was turning the grass, heather and rushes a shade of red. An early milestone was reaching Windy Gyle, a summit on which there is a pile of stones with a trig point half way up one side. It had been painted a brilliant white, similar to one I saw yesterday evening. 

Morning sun turning the moorland red each side of the path.

Next milestone was reaching the refuge of Yearning Saddle, a small, single room cabin with benches located around the edge on which to sit or sleep. I sat inside to enjoy a snack and read the comments in the log book, adding my own. After the refuge I met several people walking in the opposite direction to me, both Pennine Way walkers and those out for the day.

Rounded hills with heather or grass typical of the Cheviots.

Having heard the sound of what transpired to be clashing horns, I walked over to a fence to see three feral goats having a fight, oblivious to my presence. Either there was a close combat of interlocking horns or else they moved back, rose onto their hind legs and then crashed down on each other with a sickening clash of horns. It was only after I moved away that I saw there was a fourth, diminutive goat with small horns. Were they fighting over her?

I continued over Chew Green, the site of a Roman fort, although there is little to see. By now I was feeling tired and looking forward to reaching Byrness. For much of day I had to be careful to avoid deep or slippery mud, working my way around pools of water on tussocky grass, reeds or heather with hidden holes. This irregularity of the ground meant that I put a lot of effort into where I placed my feet. I needed to avoid damage to my delicate left knee. Such worries made me timid in the placement of my feet, lacking fluid, bold movements, like an old man fearing to fall. All this effort added to my general feeling of tiredness. Even where there were slabs of rock laid over boggy areas, some of the slabs had sunk into the mud or water, making detours into rough ground necessary. There also seemed a lot more hills than I remembered from my last walk along this section. After over three weeks, most people in books claim to gain a level of greater fitness, sometimes I do, sometimes I do not, as on this trip.

Finally reaching Byrness I stopped at St Francis' church to sit down on a pew and check how to reach the campsite where I planned to stay. Dating from 1793 I gave thanks for my progress so far in the simple, small building. 

I would have preferred to stay at "Forest View", a guesthouse catering for Pennine Way walkers, a good place to chat with other hikers about our trips over dinner, and noted as one of the highlights of the Pennine Way in the comment book at Kirk Yetholm. Unfortunately it was closed for the season so I am now at the campsite. Apparently it had been a prisoner of war camp in the Second World War. A metal detectorist was looking for remains. He had found many nails, but also an officer's "star" from his uniform.

Unfortunately the zip of my flysheet is starting to give trouble, separating in places it should not. I am worried it will soon cease to function. 

Morebattle to Windy Gyle: E2 Day 52

Today I left St Cuthbert's Way and climbed into the Cheviot mountains on the more famous Pennine Way.

I woke up stiff and tottered to the toilet. Most mornings I am stiff. Some of it is due to the hiking but I experience a similar lack of flexibility getting out of bed at home as well. An effect of age and arthritis I suppose. A few exercises and my mobility gradually improves. At first I can only reach a few inches below my knees with my legs straight, but after gently trying it ten times I can reach the line between lightly tanned and white skin which marks where my socks end. I have always been rather inflexible, maybe as a child I could reach my toes but not since then. I dread to think of a time when I cannot do up my laces or get up off the floor if I fall, so I keep up with my morning exercises whenever possible. 

I went for a lighter continental breakfast this morning. The eggs, bacon, sausage, mushrooms, toast, etc. typical of British hotel and bed & breakfast establishments (quite different from what people eat at home) can be rather heavy on the stomach when walking. 

Leaving Morebattle I climbed into the hills reaching the highest point on St Cuthbert's Way, Wideopen hill. The name is a good description as there should have been extensive views all around, however the weather was not so favourable, wishing to show off cloud formations rather than distant hills. However the Cheviot hills I am about to climb could be seen, topped by cloud. Before that I dropped down into Town Yetholm and posted the Southern Upland Way guidebook back home to (slightly) lighten my load. I am carrying two days food up into the mountains which adds to my weight, as the next few days are through remote areas.

View from St Cuthbert's Way, clouds obscuring distant hills.

A little farther in Kirk Yetholm I looked for a plaque unveiled in 1999, 23 years ago when the E2 was first inaugurated in Britain. Failing to find it I asked a passer-by and the lady at the Border Hotel, without success. Even the E2 waymark on the finger post for the start of the Pennine Way was missing, a waymark I had seen before. By the look of the post it had been recently replaced and presumably that was when the E2 insignia disappeared. 

The Border Hotel is where you can collect your free half pint of beer for finishing the Pennine Way, thanks now to a local brewery. You can also collect a Pennine Way completion certificate or even order a wooden plaque to mark your achievement. Over lunch I looked at the logbook where Pennine Way completers can leave their comments (or at least those walking the route in a northerly direction). Finishing the 435 kilometre Pennine Way, Britain's oldest National Trail, gave many people a lot of justifiable satisfaction at their achievement. I was pleased to see comments by an asthma sufferer and a 70 year old. Age and health need not prevent you finishing a long distance trail, it does not matter if it takes you a little longer.

Leaving Kirk Yetholm on a single track road I was hit by a sudden squall of rain. On putting down my rucksack to don my waterproofs I was shocked when it tumbled down into a ditch hidden by vegetation. Landing upside down my water bottle and Garmin GPS fell out of its pockets. The rucksack and bottle were easily retrieved but my GPS, loaded with my route and digital map were somewhere in the water lying in the bottom of the ditch. While I had navigational back up in the shape of my phone, the GPS was more suitable for lengthy use, especially in poor weather. Feeling around with my hands among the grass, thistles and water I was glad to find it, no worse for its wetting.

Looking back down the Pennine Way on the climb up the Cheviots. Given the blue skies it may be difficult to believe it was photographed on the same day as the others here. It shows how much the weather can change in the same day.

Climbing into the Cheviots I looked back frequently at the ever extending views, right over to the North Sea. Sometimes when plodding up a hill I forget to look around and appreciate the scenery and the height gain I have achieved. A herd of cows blocked my way. Some might have been the Belted Galloway cattle that I had been looking for on my walk on the Southern Upland Way, a breed unique to the area. They are black with a wide white "belt" around their middle. However some of these cattle were all black. Their thick coats were well suited to the harsh weather that can be encountered in these mountains. 

Reaching the first refuge on the Cheviot section of the Pennine Way at about 4:00 pm, I considered stopping the night in this small cabin. However there were still a few hours of daylight and I had not completed the 25 kilometres that I had planned for, delayed by lunch at the Border Inn, so I continued on, mainly in an upward direction. As the wind increased in strength, with intermittent rain, I began to wonder if I had made a wise decision. 

The path was wet, and muddy in parts, with standing water to avoid. Elsewhere, slabs of rock had been laid which made for faster walking. They also meant I could look at my surroundings rather than where I put each foot to avoid tripping or losing my footing in a wet or muddy hole. And the view was dramatic, light and shade, beams of sunlight, moving over hills near and far, under a generally grey overcast sky. Rain periodically attacked me, the wind driving the drops into my side.

A beam of sunlight over the hills.

A trig point painted a brilliant white stood out among the murky surroundings. 

I set up my tent with difficulty at a location I used on my first trip down the Pennine Way. A junction with a cross trail a little before the path climbed up to the summit of aptly named Windy Gyle. There was a rare area of flat grass, large enough for my tent, beside the crossing. Unfortunately as I unrolled my tent it began flapping madly in the wind, immediately anchoring it with a peg I managed to erect it, but am hoping nothing breaks overnight given the battering the thin nylon was taking.

Jedburgh to Morebattle: E2 Day 51

A walk through mixed farmland and ribbons of trees on a sunny but blustery day.

Today a shorter walk stopping in the village of Morebattle. Then in the following two full days I should reach the campsite at Byrness, after a night wild camping on the Cheviot hills. Such is my plan.

I rejoined the St Cuthbert's Way by following the Border Abbey Way out of Jedburgh. On the way, lively, rock music coming from a field made me look and see a couple of men shearing sheep. As it was October rather than spring when sheep need to loose their winter coat I was suprised. Google however explained that shearing in October was common, there was still time to grow a winter coat and it stopped the sheeps wool becoming matted and dirty. Last time I walked this way I recalled flowers on the dog roses, today there were only a few old red rose hips. A wicked thorned branch reached out and scratched the back of my hand, as if to hold me back, although the gusty wind was probably responsible. 

Otherwise the walk today was enjoyable, through fields of grass and stubble from some harvested crop on paths or quiet roads. The fields often bordered by dry stone walls. Occasional cows looked at me as I walked by. There were several stretches of woodland paths among tall pines and mature beeches underlain by ferns. The trees often formed rectangular corridors between fields. They at least provided shelter from the cool breeze although a few succumbed to its force and collapsed to the ground. The roads (and paths) were surprisingly straight with right angle bends.

Straight road among farmland.

Trees above the path of ash, pine and oak, blowing in the wind.

The one tourist site was the ruins of Cessford Castle. Dating from about 1450 it was on the front line in the long running confrontation with the English. Today I searched for shelter from the wind outside the remaining walls so as to enjoy my lunch.

Cessford castle, home of the Kers.

Soon I was in Morebattle, a small village where I am checked into the Templehall hotel. Next door is an old church which a man was restoring when I passed by last year. He was hoping to create a sanctury on the St Cuthbert's Way which could enhance its religious significance for pilgrims. It seemed he failed in his mission as the building has been sold, possibly to be made into someone's home.

Melrose to Jedburgh: E2 Day 50

A morning climb in the Eildon hills, followed by leafy riverside walks and a trip down a Roman road.

Today I started St Cuthbert's Way. He was a saint who was born in Melrose and died and was buried on Holy Island (Lindisfarne). This long distance path traces a route between the two. A pilgrimage trail for some but for me it was how the E2 linked the Southern Upland Way with the Pennine Way which it joins at Kirk Yetholm. 

I have walked today's route before, but in the other direction, which is why I probably forget about a long steep flight of stairs that I had to climb up this morning on leaving Melrose. The climb into the Eildon hills was an early test of any pilgrim. Reaching the flat cleavage between two peaks there was a reassuring view of flatter lands beyond for the rest of today's walk. 

Long flight of steps leaving Melrose.

Walking down the hills, a cocker spaniel carefully placed his ball in front of me and looked up at me with pleading eyes. Of course I threw it for him. Then his owner appeared and said he will let anyone throw his ball for him. I felt demoted from a specially chosen person to just anyone. Later I came across some black sheep. Most sheep run away from people but two of these animals came up for a close look at me. I expect they do it to everyone, hoping for some food (or a ball). In the pretty village of Bowden a lady used some hay to tempt a horse into its box beside an old, stone, octagonal structure once used to supply water. A tiny lizard which scuttled across my path, some ducks and a heron were my other animal sightings today.

A very friendly black sheep.

I was walking through many areas of trees today; oak, beech, pine among others. The leaves were just starting to turn, changing colour to yellow and orange for a last period of beauty before the bare, black, branches of winter.

Leaves turning on a woodland path.

Having walked this way before I was aiming to return to a bookshop café in St Boswell I had thought particularly good. My memory of its location was undimmed, and I indulged in a coffee and a chocolate and orange cake for my elevenses. Looking around I noticed that a number of famous authors had visited to promote their books. Robert Harris was coming this weekend, £30 for two including a copy of his latest book. The write up was good enough for me to download his book onto my kindle. The village was small so I was not sure how the modest bookshop managed to attract the big names. It did have a comforting air, it was hard to say why, but it was difficult to get myself moving again.

The path followed the meanders of the River Tweed which today was fast flowing. In places clusters of bubbles on the muddy brown water shot past me moving at a running speed many times faster than I was walking. Turbulent eddies welled up and the high, water level was advancing into bankside vegetation. No doubt the consequence of recent rain.

River Tweed.

On reaching a junction I met two of the rangers who look after paths in the Borders. They asked after my plans and I thanked them for maintaining the area's paths. Much effort has been spent on St Cuthbert's Way installing stairs, railings and footbridges. Earlier, by Melrose, there was a new, chainsaw carved, memorial bench dedicated to the late John G. Henderson, who helped develop St Cuthbert's Way and other Scottish pilgrimage routes.

Dere Street was once a Roman road, now a straight corridor of lightly wooded land bisecting the surrounding farmland. I followed a path which wound around trees, long grass and willow herb. After crossing the Tweed a final time I passed Jed Water. The river was racing in its struggle to empty its hinterland of water. I hoped no-one suffered flooding. Heavy rain had been forecast today but fortunately little had fallen, maybe it came early, I had heard heavy rain overnight. Due to the forecast I had changed my plans, opting for a hotel rather than a less costly camp site. Now I felt a bit of a fraud. However the Royal Hotel is very comfortable, warm and friendly, so maybe it's worth the extra.

Comments on Southern Upland Way

As part of the E2 I have walked about 70 % of the Southern Upland Way. Prior to this trip I had the impression that it was a boggy route, with wet feet being a daily occurrence, and that it ran through a lot of commercial, conifer plantations. Certainly there are wet, muddy and marshy sections, however much of the path is either good or has been improved by adding aggregate and/or drainage ditches. There are also parts in forestry, with straight lines of Sitka Spruce,  however much of the route is across open upland, moorland with scenic views. In addition some of the woodland is of oak or similar deciduous species, with holly and rowan making for a pleasing walk. Even in conifer plantations, rather than following hard, gravel, forestry tracks, much the route is along grassy paths, winding among the trees, a more pleasant experience. 

I was impressed by the views from the rounded hills and ridges, where trees were absent there was a feeling of openness and freedom. The occasional villages and small towns were very welcome for a coffee, bed and supplies. Tourist sights worth a visit included Castle Kennedy, the Wanlockhead's Lead Mining past and Traquair house. Earlier in the year there would have been more flowers to admire, the heather had mostly died back during my walk in late September and early October. 

Parts are remote and should only be attempted by those with previous long distance walking experience in this type of mountainous terrain. Good planning is required to ensure you have a place to sleep each night e.g. by arranging pick up and drop off with nearby Bed & Breakfast establishments, wild camping or the use of bothies (refuges free for (tidy) people to use). There are also companies that will organise it all for you.

The route is well waymarked but a GPS with a track of the route loaded, and/or a suitable guidebook is needed as all junctions may not be clearly marked. Weather in the Scottish mountains can be harsh, turning cold, wet and/or windy at any time of the year, so you need a complete set of waterproofs, spare clothes and something warm.

Where the E2 and myself left the Southern Upland Way for the St Cuthbert's Way by the River Tweed. Note the white thistle symbol on top of the post which marks the Southern Upland Way. Like this one, many finger posts have become difficult to read due to age.

Innerleithan to Melrose: E2 Day 49

A wet day among the Border hills.

Light rain for much of the day meant there was less to see as I walked among the clouds, it did not encourage me to dally. Such days can be a bit of a trudge, with water dripping down your neck and sweaty steam rising from inside your waterproofs misting up your glasses. Thinking that you have eight hours or so before you reach your destination can be demotivating in such conditions. To avoid this it is important to have intermediate waypoints that you aim for in turn. Fortunately today had several. I was familiar with them as I had walked the route before (in the opposite direction) when walking from Land's End to John o'Groats.

After a climb through forestry with a number of fallen trees to negotiate, my first waypoint was a piece of landscape art. Circles had been cut in the vegetation, or were they ovals? Their shape depended on the angle you looked at them. Spectators at professional cricket matches may be familiar with the effect where adverts on the ground are distorted so they look good on the TV cameras. Nearby there was another curiosity, the Cheese Well. People were still leaving coins at this spring to ensure the fairies gave them safe passage over the hills. 

After a long length of walking across the moors, coloured reddish by the dead heather flowers, the next sight emerged through the mist. The "Three Brethren" were a group of three cairns on a summit by a white trig point. 

Walking through the mist.

The path then dropped down through forestry. I stopped, despite the rain, to examine the toadstools. Red with white spots, more attractive than the earthy white or sickly yellow ones that were more common. Crossing the River Tweed, among the yellowing leaves of the nearby trees, was my next milestone. Immediately after there was another climb which was a bit disheartening.

Colourful toadstools.

The Southern Upland Way was taking the shortest route to the town of Galashiels by climbing over a few hills across farmland. I stopped for a rest under some trees to eat the ham salad baguette I bought for my lunch, a reward for climbing out of the valley, but the continuing rain meant I was soon on my way again.

Just prior to the town's suburbs the Southern Upland Way went through a forest park on an intricate route ending by a school (waypoint four). Skirting around the playing fields the route avoided entering the main urban area of Galashiels but began another climb past housing, onto a tree lined track. A party of nursery aged children passed me coming down, all in matching blue waterproof "onesies", grown ups at front and rear.

Dropping back down through fields I then followed the recently reopened railway for a while before returning to the River Tweed. With the recent rain the river seemed full and fast flowing, although this did not prevent a gentleman standing in the waters fishing.

Finally, I left the river at a finger post which included the E2 symbol (yellow E2 on a blue background surrounded by a circle of yellow stars, a rift on the European Union symbol although the European Ramblers Association, who are behind the E-paths, are not an EU body). This was the first E2 symbol I had seen on my trips and marked the end of the E2 following the Southern Upland Way and the start of St Cuthbert's Way. 

I walked down the main street of Melrose, my destination for tonight. I was looking for a coffee shop as I felt after some 30 kilometres I deserved a slice of cake. Sadly they were all closed, but I did manage a takeaway coffee with a slice of fruit cake which I enjoyed in the rain, on a bench outside Melrose Abbey's on a bench by the fence enclosing the ruins. (I belatedly noticed a National Trust walled garden nearby which would have made a more attractive spot).

After a hot shower and dinner at the Station hotel, now I am replete, dry, warm and happy!

Pikestone Rig to Innerleithan: E2 Day 48

A walk around St Mary's Loch and a climb over hills to reach Traquair house where I enjoyed lunch and a maze.

Waking early, the overcast sky again meant the dawn was just an emerging grey. After descending from the hills in a light drizzle I arrived at the shores of St Mary's Loch. Following the shore by its still waters, I walked through a remnant of an ancient wood. Sheep were eating any saplings that had naturally seeded, so volunteers had planted young trees behind protective wire mesh so that there would be trees here after the old trees had fallen. Leaves were beginning to yellow. The red berries of rowan and rose shone brightly in the dull daylight.

St Mary's Loch, biggest in the Southern Uplands.

Dryhope tower.

At the end of the long lake I started to climb into the hills passing the ruins of an old "tower house". Dryhope tower, built in the 1500's, was a fortified house designed to protect against raiders. However the Scott family who owned it appeared to do a bit of raiding themselves. I climbed up a steel spiral staircase within the tower, causing a fluttering of wings as brooding birds took flight. From the top of the ruins there was a view over a farm back to the Loch, and in the other direction my path into the hills. In a nearby stand of tall trees, crows cawed and moved around restlessly. 

I continued up and down the rounded hillsides on a good path, among the long grass blowing in the wind. Rams with curly horns glared at me, other sheep moved away in a line. Ridges in the middle distance had taken on patches of reddish brown as the heather and bracken was dying back as winter encroached. 

As morning turned to afternoon I saw the town of Innerleithan in a valley below, grey in the distance, enclosed by mountains, their slopes splashed with scree. This was my destination for tonight and encouraged my fight against tiredness. Even better it meant I was soon at Traquair house, the oldest inhabited house in Scotland, famous for its traditional brewery. I was especially interested in its tea room, which amused the ticket seller who assured me there were many other attractions. However first I indulged in coffee, cake and a cranberry and brie toastie, the warm cheese oozing from its sides. Then I tried to find my way out of the maze.

Traquair House.

Tonight I am at a campsite, and have walked into town for dinner at the Traquair Arms. Choosing a bottle of the Traquair House beer to accompany my Sticky Toffee Pudding dessert, I found it pleasant but at 7.5%, rather strong.