Many of you reading this blog knew my parents, Joan and Jim, who died within a year of each other from the same uncommon disease, Motor Neurone Disease, specifically ALS, known as Lou Gehrig's disease in North America. That two people so mentally and physically fit and active could both be brought down by such a cruel illness in such a short time still seems unbelievable. Friends who knew them through their bridge clubs and holidays, walking groups, or U3A, will remember them as fit and healthy, ambassadors for an active and sociable retirement, and expected by all to be in rude health for many years to come.
To read more about ALS, and how it affected both of my parents, see here.
On April 16th this year I will be starting a walk of the Pennine Way National Trail, raising money for the MND Association, which did much to help both of my parents, and which funds research into the causes and potential cures for ALS.
To read more about why I'm walking the Pennine Way, see here.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Some thoughts a week on
It's now just over a week since I finished walking the Pennine Way. Before the memories of the walk start to gradually fade into the distance here are some of the key themes of the trip, and the occasional unexpected finds.
The crisp/danger line was crossed just once, on the day we first attempted to walk over Cross Fell. The day felt threatening from the outset; the warnings from the landlady over breakfast, the press clippings on the wall about walkers being blown to their death, the trees pulled up with their roots, the massive branches snapped from their hosts and discarded across the path, and meeting the other walkers returning to Dufton in a daze. The last straw was being forced to crawl on our hands and knees when walking upright became impossible. Discretion is the better part of valour.
The real problem with the persistent rain was the effect on the land rather than on us. Most days we were walking over moorland which was more water than land, the underlying peat being saturated to the point where it could absorb no more. On Bowes Moor the path of the Pennine Way became an item of faith, with any tracks that might normally be visible being submerged under 6 inches of water. Even on drier days these saturated bogs become slow going, requiring constant hopping from grass tussock to tussock, and heading up and down each oozing stream to find a possible crossing point. On steeply sloping hillsides gentle babbling brooks quickly become raging torrents, sometimes impassible. The Pennine Way along the slope of Stonesdale valley near Keld was cut in two by Lad Gill, swollen by the heavy rain to an 8 foot wide whitewater run.
With time a philosophical appreciation of the rain might be possible. Without this rain the land along the Pennine Way would not look like this; wild peat moorland covered with heather might instead be tame arable fields, or housing estates, or industrial estates; rocky hillsides carved by thousands of years of constant erosion by fast running streams would lose their distinctive features; roaring waterfalls would instead become an occasional trickle of water over a dry cliff face.
Carved into an overhanging rock face near Warland Reservoir in West Yorkshire is the following poem addressed to the countless soaking Pennine Way walkers passing by.
Postscript: just heard a Radio 4 program about this; the 'SA' tag is of course Simon Armitage, and this is one of several poems he has written which are inscribed around the Pennines.
Lapwings are at their most entertaining when they are encountered singly or in small numbers. In large flocks, which are sometimes seen in the south of the country, they tend to panic when disturbed and fly off silently. Along the Pennine Way a single lapwing would often be seen performing aerobatics, swooping and diving in the fields, with an accompanying soundtrack something like tuning a shortwave radio, or maybe an avant garde theremin composition.
Everywhere we were on moorland there were Red Grouse, most visibly the males with bright orange double combs on their head. Maps of the moors often show "grouse butts", the hides where hunters with shotguns will hide in wait for the grouse. Since we were walking outside of the shooting season the birds were much more confident, to the point where on day 20 we received a full territorial song and dance from an outraged male.
Whether it's heathers, mosses, or grasses, the end result in wet conditions is peat. From the first day on Kinder Scout to the top of The Cheviot we were walking through peat bog of some sort, and the streams ran from a thin whisky yellow to a thick brown Windsor soup.
Some people were permanent or semi-permanent fixtures. My old university friend Jonathan walked the whole Pennine Way with me, and if you've looked through more than a couple of daily postings you will have seen him in a picture, although sometimes he may only be the red blob half way down the hill. Although some may prefer to walk a long distance trail alone, it makes for a much more pleasant journey if there's someone to commiserate about the thoroughly miserable wet day you've just had, or to enthuse about something wonderful you've seen that day.
Sean and Saffie started on the same as us in Edale, and for the first week they walked alongside us every day. Although things appeared touch&go with Saffie after a few desperately cold and rainy days (see day 6 for an example) they finished the Pennine Way 4 days before we did, both alive and unscarred.
Eric also started on the same day in Edale, although he initially professed to prefer walking on his own. When his mobile phone drowned in the heavy rain on day 3 his wife insisted he walk along with us until he received the posted replacement, but this enforced sociability didn't seem to be difficult for him to bear, and he was a very entertaining walking companion for the following days. We last bumped into him in Garigill on day 16, when we found out that he had twisted his ankle a few days previously and had reluctantly decided he wouldn't be able to complete the walk after 170 miles completed. Something tells me that he might try again before he reaches the age of 75.
What is surprising is how easily we struck up lengthy conversations with so many people along the way, fellow long distance walkers, passing tourists and locals in pubs, B&B owners, or just bystanders who happened to be on the path at the right, or wrong, time. From the first B&B in Edale (owner's daughter had flu so the owner was having to do most of the work of running a childcare business) to the last day on The Cheviot (where we met a couple who where walking all the peaks over 2000 feet in England, and were rather disappointed that Cairn Hill was just a small cairn on the slopes of The Cheviot) not a day passed when there wasn't a series of memorable conversations.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
Rain and wind
Even taking into account that the British are famous around the world for talking about the weather it's hard to ignore the rain, wind, and even the snow which stuck with us for the whole of the Pennine Way.Snow
From the first day walking out on Kinder Scout to the last day on The Cheviot we were crossing patches of snow. These were the remnants of the blizzard which crossed the north of the country the week before we set out, but the fact that these remained frozen 4 weeks later says something about the low temperatures which are still the norm well into May. The fact that we again saw snow falling most of the last day of walking suggests that snow may be a fixture of the Pennine Way into June.Wind
Cold crisp spring wind can be a pleasant thing. Even when it meant wearing 4 layers of clothing on a day of full sunshine and sheltering in a shake hole just to keep warm enough to eat lunch, it's OK. We were high up in the hills, and far up in the north of England, so we expected and were prepared for it.The crisp/danger line was crossed just once, on the day we first attempted to walk over Cross Fell. The day felt threatening from the outset; the warnings from the landlady over breakfast, the press clippings on the wall about walkers being blown to their death, the trees pulled up with their roots, the massive branches snapped from their hosts and discarded across the path, and meeting the other walkers returning to Dufton in a daze. The last straw was being forced to crawl on our hands and knees when walking upright became impossible. Discretion is the better part of valour.
Rain
In three weeks of hill walking it's inevitable that there would be plenty of rain, but it seems that our walking coincided with the wettest April in the UK since records began. Tell-tale signs early on in the walk were that reservoirs were full to the brim, and overflow sluices were running. Several days we set out in the morning in heavy rain, and arrived in the evening in heavy rain. In those conditions it was inevitable that we would be pretty much wet through, with only our waterproof outer-trousers keeping our legs mostly dry. Thankfully most hotels and B&Bs along the Pennine Way are used to dealing with soaked walkers, and have drying rooms and boxes of old newspapers to stuff wet boots with.The real problem with the persistent rain was the effect on the land rather than on us. Most days we were walking over moorland which was more water than land, the underlying peat being saturated to the point where it could absorb no more. On Bowes Moor the path of the Pennine Way became an item of faith, with any tracks that might normally be visible being submerged under 6 inches of water. Even on drier days these saturated bogs become slow going, requiring constant hopping from grass tussock to tussock, and heading up and down each oozing stream to find a possible crossing point. On steeply sloping hillsides gentle babbling brooks quickly become raging torrents, sometimes impassible. The Pennine Way along the slope of Stonesdale valley near Keld was cut in two by Lad Gill, swollen by the heavy rain to an 8 foot wide whitewater run.
With time a philosophical appreciation of the rain might be possible. Without this rain the land along the Pennine Way would not look like this; wild peat moorland covered with heather might instead be tame arable fields, or housing estates, or industrial estates; rocky hillsides carved by thousands of years of constant erosion by fast running streams would lose their distinctive features; roaring waterfalls would instead become an occasional trickle of water over a dry cliff face.
Carved into an overhanging rock face near Warland Reservoir in West Yorkshire is the following poem addressed to the countless soaking Pennine Way walkers passing by.
Be glad of these freshwater tears,each pearled droplet some salty old sea-bulletair lifted out of the waves, then laundered and sieved, recast as a soft bead and returned.And no matter how much it strafes or sheets, it is no mean feat to catch one raindrop clean in the mouth,to take one drop on the tongue, tasting cloud pollen, grain of the heavens, raw sky.Let it teem, up here where the front of the mind distils the brunt of the world.
 |
| Rain |
Postscript: just heard a Radio 4 program about this; the 'SA' tag is of course Simon Armitage, and this is one of several poems he has written which are inscribed around the Pennines.
Flora and fauna
Day by day the living scenery of the Pennine Way sometimes seems to change little, with some plants and animals present from the first day to the last. There's much more to it than this though.Sheep and lambs
I don't think a day passed without us walking through fields of sheep and lambs. Looking through the very first few photographs I took are some of tiny lambs with their mothers. Maybe I foolishly thought those might be the only lambs we would see. As we headed north the lambs were generally younger than those further south. Spring takes time to make its way over 200 miles. By the time we reached County Durham it was more common to see newborn lambs, sometimes still with their umbilical cords attached, and with no identifying ear-tag yet. Many fields were littered with evidence of lambs recently born, and lambs which could barely stand yet.Curlews, lapwings, and Red Grouse
Curlews most days, not surprising since they enjoy feeding on wet land. In Cornwall we have curlews on the muddy tidal estuaries, probing the sticky mud for small invertebrates to eat. Clearly curlews are versatile though, and are happy to wade through boggy peaty moorland, dipping into the dark peaty soup for a different set of insects.Lapwings are at their most entertaining when they are encountered singly or in small numbers. In large flocks, which are sometimes seen in the south of the country, they tend to panic when disturbed and fly off silently. Along the Pennine Way a single lapwing would often be seen performing aerobatics, swooping and diving in the fields, with an accompanying soundtrack something like tuning a shortwave radio, or maybe an avant garde theremin composition.
Everywhere we were on moorland there were Red Grouse, most visibly the males with bright orange double combs on their head. Maps of the moors often show "grouse butts", the hides where hunters with shotguns will hide in wait for the grouse. Since we were walking outside of the shooting season the birds were much more confident, to the point where on day 20 we received a full territorial song and dance from an outraged male.
Heather, moss, peat
The rule seems to be that the wetter moorlands are thick with sphagnum mosses, and the drier moorlands with heathers. At this time of year the heathers are still dormant and grey, and it will be August before the moors become flushed with purple. Until then the rich green sphagnum mosses provide the dominant colours in much of the boggy moorland. |
| Sphagnum moss macro |
Whether it's heathers, mosses, or grasses, the end result in wet conditions is peat. From the first day on Kinder Scout to the top of The Cheviot we were walking through peat bog of some sort, and the streams ran from a thin whisky yellow to a thick brown Windsor soup.
Juniper
This was one of the big surprises for me, that the upper reaches of the Tees valley play host to such a huge number of juniper bushes, apparently the largest juniper forest in England. I hope that the juniper berries from here are used in making gin. If they're not then I sense a business opportunity. |
| Upper Tees Juniper berries |
Spring Gentians
Another surprise of the Upper Tees Valley is the profusion of alpine flowers, such as the Spring Gentian which was at its peak when we were there. |
| Upper Tees Spring Gentian |
Hotels vs B&Bs vs Inns
Since we were staying in a different place each night - 19 different B&Bs, hotels, and inns, in 21 days - we played a game of trying to guess what the accommodation would be like each night. Regardless of whether it was a B&B, a "hotel", or an inn, we were usually wrong, and it was hard to predict the quality of the place based only on the accommodation name and the location. With hindsight I think our experience is something like this:- A "hotel" rather than a B&B is no guarantee of quality. In fact generally we found that B&Bs were rather better than hotels. I suppose this might be because the cost of renovating a hotel with 10 or 20 rooms is prohibitive compared to redecorating just 2 or 3 rooms in a B&B, so unless the hotel has recently changed hands and been revamped it's often rather run down. Likewise the effort involved in cleaning a 10 room hotel is beyond an individual, and the staff employed to do this are working to a budget and timescale. On the other hand the owner of a 3 room B&B can easily clean all the bedrooms, and would usually do so to the same standard as their own rooms.
- Even a tatty old hotel or inn can be a welcoming place with the right staff. We stayed in a couple of slightly tired inns where the owners and staff were helpful and chatty, and everything worked, and everything was clean. As an alternative to spending hundreds of thousands of pounds revamping the place for an unknown return this seems like an obvious thing to do, but it's surprisingly uncommon.
- Notices posted everywhere telling people "DON'T DO THIS" and "NONE OF THAT" might as well say "go away", making it clear that the comfort of the owners is more important than that of the guests.
- En-suite is not necessarily better than shared facilities. Often en-suite showers and toilets are cheaply fitted, which isn't surprising if you have to fit 20 of them. On the other hand,one or two shared bathrooms can be bigger, have larger baths or better showers (rather than the ubiquitous Mira electric shower), be more expensively decorated, and better cleaned.
- Pub food : no great revelation, but pubs can't really make curries. They are usually a lot better at things with chips, and thing pies. No gasto pubs on this trip, so no "thing on a big white plate" experiences.
People
Some people were permanent or semi-permanent fixtures. My old university friend Jonathan walked the whole Pennine Way with me, and if you've looked through more than a couple of daily postings you will have seen him in a picture, although sometimes he may only be the red blob half way down the hill. Although some may prefer to walk a long distance trail alone, it makes for a much more pleasant journey if there's someone to commiserate about the thoroughly miserable wet day you've just had, or to enthuse about something wonderful you've seen that day.
Sean and Saffie started on the same as us in Edale, and for the first week they walked alongside us every day. Although things appeared touch&go with Saffie after a few desperately cold and rainy days (see day 6 for an example) they finished the Pennine Way 4 days before we did, both alive and unscarred.
Eric also started on the same day in Edale, although he initially professed to prefer walking on his own. When his mobile phone drowned in the heavy rain on day 3 his wife insisted he walk along with us until he received the posted replacement, but this enforced sociability didn't seem to be difficult for him to bear, and he was a very entertaining walking companion for the following days. We last bumped into him in Garigill on day 16, when we found out that he had twisted his ankle a few days previously and had reluctantly decided he wouldn't be able to complete the walk after 170 miles completed. Something tells me that he might try again before he reaches the age of 75.
What is surprising is how easily we struck up lengthy conversations with so many people along the way, fellow long distance walkers, passing tourists and locals in pubs, B&B owners, or just bystanders who happened to be on the path at the right, or wrong, time. From the first B&B in Edale (owner's daughter had flu so the owner was having to do most of the work of running a childcare business) to the last day on The Cheviot (where we met a couple who where walking all the peaks over 2000 feet in England, and were rather disappointed that Cairn Hill was just a small cairn on the slopes of The Cheviot) not a day passed when there wasn't a series of memorable conversations.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
Monday, May 7, 2012
Measured GPS milages
Here are the actual measured GPS milages of the walk as we did it, using Viewranger software on a Samsung Galaxy SII phone. If anyone is feeling particularly bored I have the .gpx files for each section, allowing them to be overlaid on Google Earth (and many others).
Not surprisingly the total is much greater than the usually quoted value of 267 miles. This is because of the combination of:
- Extra miles walking to and from the B&B
- The first abandoned attempt to walk Dufton to Garrigill
- Walking to & from Vindolanda. Nothing to do with the Pennine Way really, but we walked it, so the GPS measured it.
- Walking up & down from Cocklawfoot to the Pennine Way
Date Section GPS milage
17-Apr Edale to Crowden 16
18-Apr Crowden to Standedge 14.5
19-Apr Standedge to Hebden Bridge 17.5
20-Apr Hebden Bridge to Cowling 16.2
21-Apr Cowling to Gargrave 10.9
22-Apr Gargrave to Malham 8.9
23-Apr Malham to Horton-in-Ribblesdale 15
24-Apr Horton-in-Ribblesdale to Hawes 14.6
25-Apr Hawes to Keld 13.1
26-Apr Keld to Baldersdale 15.9
27-Apr Baldersdale to Langdon Beck 16.8
28-Apr Langdon Beck to Dufton 13.9
29-Apr Dufton … and back 6.5
30-Apr Garrigill to Dufton 16.3
01-May Garrigill to Greenhead 22
02-May Greenhead to Twice Brewed 12.8
03-May Twice Brewed to Bellingham 15.8
04-May Bellingham to Byrness 15.4
05-May Byrness to Cocklawfoot 16.3
06-May Cocklawfoot to Kirk Yetholm 16.4
TOTAL: 294.8
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
Sunday, May 6, 2012
Day 21 - Cocklawfoot to Kirk Yetholm
The final day of the walk.
You might have noticed that I didn't mention in yesterday's post where we stayed last night. That's because, slightly embarrassingly, it was in Kirk Yetholm, where the Pennine Way ends, so we'd already been to the destination. Not our choice, rather the way that Discovery Travel had booked the B&Bs. I wish they had taken us back to Byrness instead, which a couple of other walkers had done, but that didn't seem to be an option for us. Anyway, last night we deliberately went into the Plough Inn in Town Yetholm, on the other side of the river, so we wouldn't see the finish line, and wouldn't be showing our faces a day early at the Border Inn in Kirk Yetholm.
So the final day started with the Kirk Yetholm B&B owners taking us back to Cocklawfoot where we finished yesterday's walk. A bit of a tense start to the day as the previous day we'd noticed a large hand-written sign saying "KEEP OUT - LAMBING SEASON - NO WALKERS THROUGH HERE", and the B&B owner said that the farmer had been harassing walkers recently. However, we managed to creep through the farmyard and back onto Clennell Street, the footpath/byway that leads back to the Pennine Way, apparently without being spotted, until the noise of the gate set the farm dogs barking. Heads down we strode on up the hill and were out of sight within a couple of minutes with no confrontation. Not much of an anecdote, is it?
We weren't looking forward to the ascent back to the Pennine Way ridge. It's about 2.5 miles and over 200m of climb, which took us 40 minutes on the way down, so first thing in the morning it wasn't a tempting prospect. However, probably because of our desire to get out of sight of Cocklawfoot, we barely paused on the way up, and were back on the Pennine Way within 45 minutes. That's about 3.3 miles per hour going uphill.
The weather started out very calm, and quite mild. I don't think the temperature can have dropped below zero last night, and the pools in the peat bogs were mirror calm.
The walk along the continuation of the ridge between Windy Gyle and Kings Seat is easy going, being mostly level flagstones laid over boggy moorland. I suspect we were managing close to 4 miles an hour until the start of the ascent towards Cairn Hill and The Cheviot. At that point the path turned to loose peat and it started snowing. At first the snow was rather welcome as it's hot work going up some of these hills, but we got a bit tired of the snow when it was still going 4 hours later.
Actually the first high peak (743m) which the Pennine Way reaches doesn't seem to have a name on the OS map, but it's significant because this is where the Pennine Way splits in two. The main route continues left toward Kirk Yetholm, and the optional excursion up to the highest peak in the area, The Cheviot, heads off right. Since we were still early in the day and had plenty of time and energy, of course we had to continue to The Cheviot. There's still snow sitting on the ground here, presumably from the same blizzard which had left its mark on Kinder Scout back at the start of our walk.
I expect that the snow will remain for some time, since the temperature is at most only a couple of degrees above zero at the moment, and it's still snowing up here in May. If you click on the below picture of the cairn at The Cheviot summit, you can see the snow falling.
As has so often been the case with our Pennine Way walk there was no view from the summit, what with all the snow. Walking back down to the junction with the main Pennine Way I noticed something out of place about 20m away from the path. It looked like some twisted aluminium from an aircraft or motorcycle. It's difficult to see the scale in the picture, but the circular holes in the left piece are about 6" (15cm) in diameter. Doing a bit of Googling I suspect that this is wreckage from a Vickers Warwick which crashed here in 1946. It's mentioned in this person's blog, along with a message from someone living in New Zealand who was amongst the first to find the wreckage, along with the bodies of three airmen.
Back on the main Pennine Way path we imagined that we might have seen the last of the ascents for the day, but there are several more, each a little lower than the last, but each enough to require the customary shedding of layers during the climb. However, first there's a steep descent from the great mass of The Cheviot, dropping from its west side by Auchope Cairn. Actually this is the first time in the Cheviots that we've really seen steep rock faces rather than rolling hillsides. You can see the next looming summit, The Shill (or Shil as some maps would have it), which is the rounded lump in the centre with some rocky bits on top.
Thankfully there's another mountain shelter, Auchope Refuge, where we could have lunch out of the snow before starting on the Shill. As we've found many times now, the ascent up The Shill was actually much quicker than we'd imagined. Only about 10 minutes climbing up from the saddle and we were up on the rocky outcrop at the summit. Not much to see up here, but we were duty bound to clamber up on top of the highest rocks. Actually the view back to The Shill is a bit more photogenic.
Note that the fingerpost in the above photograph is the first time we've seen Kirk Yetholm mentioned. Only 4½ miles to the finish line now, which would be no more than 1½ hours in Cornwall, and if we hadn't already been walking for 5 hours or course. Here there are yet more, albeit slightly smaller, summits to come, the next highest one being White Law. I rather like the clear sheep tracks, seen as dark zig-zagging horizontal lines covering the opposite slope (Saughieside Hill). [Click the picture to zoom in]
The first glimpse of Kirk Yetholm only came when we were about half a mile away. Yes, really, it was our first glimpse; we avoided the town in favour of Town Yetholm last night.
The approved procedure for finishing the Pennine Way is to go to the Border Inn pub, which is the official endpoint (the Nag's Head in Edale being the start). However, just before we got there I noticed our car from Cornwall, with Joanne and Bella (our first whippet) in it. Bella saw me through the window and alerted Joanne to our imminent arrival, and after kisses from both Joanne and Bella we went into the Border Inn.
I thought that there was a free pint for everyone finishing the Pennine Way, but clearly these are hard times and now it's a free half-pint. Even so the barman initially appeared suspicious when I told him that we'd just finished the Pennine Way, and asked me to prove it. The threat of boring him to death with hundreds of my pictures did the trick, along with the fact that I was paying to top up each half to a pint.
We'd only being sitting down for 10 minutes when the barman came over holding a phone and asked "are you Philip and Jonathan?". He then wandered back to the bar and continued his furtive conversation with the mystery caller. Actually we'd already suspected that this must be Sean, who had very accurately estimated our arrival time. When the barman returned he was carrying an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne, and three glasses. Thank you, thank you, Sean, what a generous man.
The barman also returned later with two signed certificates commemorating our completion of the Pennine Way. Sean had been given something similar at Edale stating the starting date, and we thought we'd missed the chance, but it seems there's a second chance. Also now we can pretend that we walked it in 10 days or something (joke).
Should we have done the last 27 mile section in one day ? I'm really not sure. Yesterday we left the Pennine Way at Clennell Street at about 3:45pm. Today we walked for about 6 hours 45 minutes, but 45 minutes of that was the initial climb back up Clennell Street, and we spent about an hour on the optional return trip to The Cheviot, and probably another half hour on lunch. So we can deduct about 2 hours 15 from today's walking time, making it more like 4 hours 30 minutes of unavoidable walking. Adding that to yesterday's finish time would mean we might have finished yesterday at about 8:15pm, which is an hour before sunset. However, we would have been exhausted, so it would probably have taken longer really, plus we'd have missed out on The Cheviot. So it would almost certainly have been possible to finish yesterday, even with our 9:30 start time, but it have been for the sake of it, not for pleasure.
I'll write some follow up blog entries with actual measured GPS milages and musings on the walk.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
You might have noticed that I didn't mention in yesterday's post where we stayed last night. That's because, slightly embarrassingly, it was in Kirk Yetholm, where the Pennine Way ends, so we'd already been to the destination. Not our choice, rather the way that Discovery Travel had booked the B&Bs. I wish they had taken us back to Byrness instead, which a couple of other walkers had done, but that didn't seem to be an option for us. Anyway, last night we deliberately went into the Plough Inn in Town Yetholm, on the other side of the river, so we wouldn't see the finish line, and wouldn't be showing our faces a day early at the Border Inn in Kirk Yetholm.
So the final day started with the Kirk Yetholm B&B owners taking us back to Cocklawfoot where we finished yesterday's walk. A bit of a tense start to the day as the previous day we'd noticed a large hand-written sign saying "KEEP OUT - LAMBING SEASON - NO WALKERS THROUGH HERE", and the B&B owner said that the farmer had been harassing walkers recently. However, we managed to creep through the farmyard and back onto Clennell Street, the footpath/byway that leads back to the Pennine Way, apparently without being spotted, until the noise of the gate set the farm dogs barking. Heads down we strode on up the hill and were out of sight within a couple of minutes with no confrontation. Not much of an anecdote, is it?
We weren't looking forward to the ascent back to the Pennine Way ridge. It's about 2.5 miles and over 200m of climb, which took us 40 minutes on the way down, so first thing in the morning it wasn't a tempting prospect. However, probably because of our desire to get out of sight of Cocklawfoot, we barely paused on the way up, and were back on the Pennine Way within 45 minutes. That's about 3.3 miles per hour going uphill.
 |
| Top of Clennell Street |
The weather started out very calm, and quite mild. I don't think the temperature can have dropped below zero last night, and the pools in the peat bogs were mirror calm.
 |
| Peat bog abstract |
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| Snowy ascent to Cairn Hill |
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| Snow on The Cheviot |
 |
| Snow falling on The Cheviot |
 |
| Wreckage of the Vickers Warwick |
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| Descent from Auchope Cairn |
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| View back to The Shill |
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| Sheep tracks from White Law |
Now we're just 2½ miles from Kirk Yetholm, and the Pennine Way starts to descend to a country lane leading to the town itself. One more hill, and one last chance to do the good deed of reuniting a lamb with its mother, who had somehow managed to get into the road. I dashed uphill in the field, out of sight of the sheep, while Jonathan opened a gate back into the field, then I jumped over the wall onto the road and shepherded the ewe down the road in an improvised pincer movement.
The first glimpse of Kirk Yetholm only came when we were about half a mile away. Yes, really, it was our first glimpse; we avoided the town in favour of Town Yetholm last night.
 |
| First sighting of Kirk Yetholm |
I thought that there was a free pint for everyone finishing the Pennine Way, but clearly these are hard times and now it's a free half-pint. Even so the barman initially appeared suspicious when I told him that we'd just finished the Pennine Way, and asked me to prove it. The threat of boring him to death with hundreds of my pictures did the trick, along with the fact that I was paying to top up each half to a pint.
We'd only being sitting down for 10 minutes when the barman came over holding a phone and asked "are you Philip and Jonathan?". He then wandered back to the bar and continued his furtive conversation with the mystery caller. Actually we'd already suspected that this must be Sean, who had very accurately estimated our arrival time. When the barman returned he was carrying an ice bucket and a bottle of champagne, and three glasses. Thank you, thank you, Sean, what a generous man.
The barman also returned later with two signed certificates commemorating our completion of the Pennine Way. Sean had been given something similar at Edale stating the starting date, and we thought we'd missed the chance, but it seems there's a second chance. Also now we can pretend that we walked it in 10 days or something (joke).
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| Me and Bella and Jonathan and certificates |
Should we have done the last 27 mile section in one day ? I'm really not sure. Yesterday we left the Pennine Way at Clennell Street at about 3:45pm. Today we walked for about 6 hours 45 minutes, but 45 minutes of that was the initial climb back up Clennell Street, and we spent about an hour on the optional return trip to The Cheviot, and probably another half hour on lunch. So we can deduct about 2 hours 15 from today's walking time, making it more like 4 hours 30 minutes of unavoidable walking. Adding that to yesterday's finish time would mean we might have finished yesterday at about 8:15pm, which is an hour before sunset. However, we would have been exhausted, so it would probably have taken longer really, plus we'd have missed out on The Cheviot. So it would almost certainly have been possible to finish yesterday, even with our 9:30 start time, but it have been for the sake of it, not for pleasure.
I'll write some follow up blog entries with actual measured GPS milages and musings on the walk.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
Saturday, May 5, 2012
Day 20 - Byrness to Cocklawfoot
Today was the first half of the final 'big one', the high section from Bynress to Kirk Yetholm through the Cheviot hills, which real he-men walk in a single day. The company who we booked our B&Bs through splits this section into two parts, breaking the full 27 mile segment into a 16 mile and an 11 mile day. The problem is that there's nowhere to stay along the way, so the slightly unsatisfactory solution is to pick the walker up from the closest road access point, and dropping off at the same point the next day. In practice that's over 2 miles away, and 300m down from the ridge where the path is at that point, so it means extra miles and extra climbing.
The start of the day is the 200m steep ascent straight out of Byrness with no warm-up, which is unkind first thing in the morning. This leads up to Byrness Hill, the first summit with a name and a cairn, and giving some wonderful views back across the Kielder Forest. This is the first time we've seen Kielder Water, the huge man-made reservoir which was constructed in the late 1970s and first flooded in 1982.
The surprising thing today was that that initial climb out of Byrness was the hardest ascent of the day. Although the path crosses numerous summits between 500m and 600m it's really just a series of fairly gentle rises and dips, with only an occasional short steep section. Combined with today's fair weather this really made the walk much easier than we had imagined.
Once up on the ridge the path faces onto the Otterburn military training, the largest firing range in the UK, and according to last night's B&B owners one which is usually active. Apparently it's not uncommon to see tanks up on the hilltops, or mortar rounds exploding on the hillsides, or soldiers in full camouflage hiding in the heather (well, you're not really supposed to see them of course). Today we saw nothing, apart from some stern warnings about straying into the training area or picking anything military up. I see the same warnings around the Penhale training camp in Cornwall, but I've never actually seen any training taking place there. Sounds a bit more serious here.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
The start of the day is the 200m steep ascent straight out of Byrness with no warm-up, which is unkind first thing in the morning. This leads up to Byrness Hill, the first summit with a name and a cairn, and giving some wonderful views back across the Kielder Forest. This is the first time we've seen Kielder Water, the huge man-made reservoir which was constructed in the late 1970s and first flooded in 1982.
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| View back to Kielder Water |
Once up on the ridge the path faces onto the Otterburn military training, the largest firing range in the UK, and according to last night's B&B owners one which is usually active. Apparently it's not uncommon to see tanks up on the hilltops, or mortar rounds exploding on the hillsides, or soldiers in full camouflage hiding in the heather (well, you're not really supposed to see them of course). Today we saw nothing, apart from some stern warnings about straying into the training area or picking anything military up. I see the same warnings around the Penhale training camp in Cornwall, but I've never actually seen any training taking place there. Sounds a bit more serious here.
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| Warnings at Ravens Knowe |
It was cold last night. The weather forecast said it would go down to 0C at ground level, so it would have been even lower up here. Certainly some of the pools in amongst the peat bogs had a thin skin of ice this morning.
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| Water boatman goes ice skating |
This section of the Pennine Way sees a welcome return of the stone flagstones and wooden duckboards that we had on some of the worse sections in the previous couple of weeks. Walking over a long stretch of duckboards that skirt Ogre Hill we had the first remarkable experience of the day. A Red Grouse was standing on the boards about 50m in front of us. I got the camera out, imagining that the Grouse would take flight pretty soon. Nothing further from the truth. In fact it strutted confidently towards us as I took picture after picture, until it was almost at arm's length. I assume this was a territorial claim of some sort, and it was challenging us, as it was also sending out a bizarre repeated call, different from the calls we've heard when Grouse take flight in panic.
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| Are you looking at my bird ? |
Another couple of miles on we reached Chew Green, a large collection of Roman forts significantly north of Hadrian's Wall. Although it's possible to get within half a mile of here by road, the site hasn't been subject to much archaeological exploration, and absolutely no 'consolidation' has been done, so there is no tourist presence at all. In fact there's really very little to see from ground level apart from the ditches and ramparts. It's difficult to imagine that this was once a significant station for Roman soldiers, and later the site of the busy medieval village of Kemylpethe, where peddlars and itinerant Scottish workers would stay while conducting business in the local taverns or passing by on their way to England [The Border Line, by Eric Robson].
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| Chew Green - site of the Ad Fines Roman camp |
One of the reasons for this being such a busy social hub in the past is that it is adjacent to the path of Dere Street, which began as a Roman road between York and Bo'ness in Scotland. The road continued to be used after the Romans left the region, and is said to have been in use as the main route between Scotland and England until the end of the 19th century. In other areas some parts of Dere Street eventually become the current A1 and A68.
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| Dere Street near Black Halls |
Two or three miles further on and the path reaches the first mountain refuge of the day, just before the climb up to Lamb Hill. The shelter smelt suspiciously rank inside, but the wooden staging at front made a suitable stop for lunch. Strangely the visitors book seems to have become a repository of fantasies for some walkers. One story claimed that the writer had been chased by pagans asking after the "temple of Margaret" and had run out of food and water. Ah well, that was from last November. I expect he's been sacrificed by now, so no point worrying about it.
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| Lamb Hill mountain shelter |
Next remarkable sight of the day, where the Pennine Way is right alongside the Scottish border at Mozie Law (hill). We suddenly saw a wild mountain goat grazing in the heather on the Scottish side. We stopped for a good 20 minutes, thankfully downstream of the goat, and it slowly ambled closer to us, with another adult and, eventually, a kid. It got within maybe 50m of us before slowing grazing off away again, not in any sort of hurry.
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| Mountain goats at Mozie Law |
Along today's route various places there are 6 pointed metal stars on posts. Surely there's a good explanation for these, maybe marking a boundary of some sort, but in practice they have become the home of walker graffiti, scratched into the metal, and, if the dates on this example at Foul Step are to believed, some of it dating back to the 1960s.
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| Foul Step mystery star |
The path now climbs up to the highest summit of the day at Windy Gyle (619m) where countless previous walkers have constructed a circular walled shelter next to the trig point.
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| Windy Gyle |
Just another mile or so past Windy Gyle we reached the path crossroads where today's half portion of the Pennine Way ended, and we descended to reach Cocklawfoot, where the B&B owners came and picked us up. I have a strong feeling that we could have finished the whole 27 mile Byress to Kirk Yetholm section in a single day, but "someone" wasn't having any of it.
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| Waiting at Cocklawfoot farm |
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
Friday, May 4, 2012
Day 19 - Bellingham to Byrness
This section of the Pennine Way is rather a "getting from A to B" experience, with nothing of huge interest along the way, unless I'm just being unobservant, which is always possible. After climbing from the North Tyne Valley up onto the moors the first half of the day is over the familiar undulating boggy moorland, not quite as wet as earlier days, but still a fair amount of leaping and squelching and swearing. Most of this moorland is covered with heather, which should brighten the place up come August, but at this time of year it's just a mass of grey-brown or occasionally burnt black. Even the grass on which the few sheep are grazing is largely a rain-bleached white.
For several miles the moorland continues, occasionally rising to a pile of stones cairn, like this one at Deer Play (that seems to be what it's called on the OS map).
The highest point of the day seems to have been at Whitley Pike, but even that's only 370m. At least the view gave us the warning that heavy rain was on the way, so time to put on the waterproofs. Actually it was a fairly dry day, but the wind was bitingly cold.
Then suddenly, after 6 or 7 miles, the open moorland stops and the Forestry Commission Redesdale Forest plantation starts. It's a pity there's no deciduous margin to soften the blow, but it's a money making business so maybe that's too much to expect. It's nice to see that some seedlings from the forestry prison have escaped and are making a living in the surrounding moorland.
The Pennine Way now skirts around the edge of Redesdale Forest for a couple of miles, occasionally dipping into the forest then heading out again onto the moors. Along the forest boundary we started to notice what looked like milestones every couple of hundred of yards, inscribed with "G H". We couldn't think of anything this might stand for (George Harrison ? Go Home ?) but in the B&B we're staying in there's a history of the Otterburn Training Range which has the answer - it's "C H" for Carnaby Haggerston, and these are 18th century estate boundary markers.
After a mile or so of Redesdale Forest the Pennine Way turns right and enters Kielder Forest. Actually it's exactly the same forest, it's just that this part of the forest is considered part of Kielder. I don't really know what that means, but I'm sure it's important if you're holding a chainsaw and about to cut down a tree.
Another few miles on rather boring Forestry Commission gravel tracks through the forest and we were down in the valley alongside the River Rede. Strangely the conifers are planted rather more thinly down here near the visitors' centre. Surely not to give the impression that it's not such an intensive operation, and that there might be some wildlife living in there ?
Another couple of miles along the Rede and we're in Byrness, where we're staying at the excellent Byrness Hotel, where we were greeted by Kate (owner) and Pippin (dog), who rolls onto her back at the least bit of encouragement. Just to be clear, that's Pippin, not Kate who does that.
Tomorrow we're onto the home stretch, which means the scary bit up in the Cheviot Hills.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
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| Callerhues Moss |
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| Deer Play - no deer, no play |
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| Whitley Pike |
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| Here comes the forest |
The Pennine Way now skirts around the edge of Redesdale Forest for a couple of miles, occasionally dipping into the forest then heading out again onto the moors. Along the forest boundary we started to notice what looked like milestones every couple of hundred of yards, inscribed with "G H". We couldn't think of anything this might stand for (George Harrison ? Go Home ?) but in the B&B we're staying in there's a history of the Otterburn Training Range which has the answer - it's "C H" for Carnaby Haggerston, and these are 18th century estate boundary markers.
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| Carnaby Haggerston was here |
Another few miles on rather boring Forestry Commission gravel tracks through the forest and we were down in the valley alongside the River Rede. Strangely the conifers are planted rather more thinly down here near the visitors' centre. Surely not to give the impression that it's not such an intensive operation, and that there might be some wildlife living in there ?
Another couple of miles along the Rede and we're in Byrness, where we're staying at the excellent Byrness Hotel, where we were greeted by Kate (owner) and Pippin (dog), who rolls onto her back at the least bit of encouragement. Just to be clear, that's Pippin, not Kate who does that.
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| Pippin |
Tomorrow we're onto the home stretch, which means the scary bit up in the Cheviot Hills.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Day 18 - Twice Brewed to Bellingham
Today is a day of mixed emotions. On the one hand there was much to enjoy in the new landscapes unfolding as we headed north from Hadrian's Wall into Northumberland. On the other hand today would have been my mother's birthday, so this is the first year without some sort of birthday celebration for her. If I had been walking along Hadrian's Wall and the village of mid Northumberland today then at the very least I would have been phoning her right now to tell her exactly where I am and where we had been today. This is the part of the country where we grew up as children, and I have strong memories of being taken on visits to the wall (back then we just called it the Roman Wall) on family weekend outings.
Today's Pennine Way section headed back to the wall from last night's scruffy Twice Brewed Inn then turning eastward, but only for a short distance before breaking away into the Northumberland wilds. Again this section of the wall is one of the best to walk, with some dramatic swoops and drops over crags and gaps. Much of the wall here is well 'consolidated' (ie. reconstructed from original stone) and with one of the best milecastles on the wall, Milecastle 39.
Less than a mile east of here the wall rises high above the lake which you can see in the above picture (Crag Lough) and drops to a gap in the wall which seems to be known here as Sycamore Gap, although I think there's more than one Sycamore Gap in the country.
At turret 37A the Pennine Way finally splits from the wall, heading across the typical boggy moorland which has occupied many of my previous rantings. Actually today this sort of boggy land wasn't a problem, only being in relatively short bursts, and since we've now had a couple of dry days it's probably drained down slightly. Plus we're undoubtedly improved our bog-hopping skills over the course of this walk, and can spot a wet dead-end among the tussocks from 20 paces. On leaving the wall the path first crosses a few fields containing hardy cattle and their calves, which have churned up the ground something rotten. However the plus side is that they've left some lovely cow fur balls impaled on the barbed wire where they've scratches themselves.
For much of the day the Pennine Way now weaves through alternate coniferous forest and marshy moorland housing a fairly sparse population of sheep. The forests are all Forestry Commission managed, or at least all those we passed through were. This means the usual 'green tarmac' of dense spruce and fir, where as the trees mature very little light makes it to the ground for other plants to benefit from. The forest effectively becomes a monoculture apart from the occasional clearing where we saw one or two small deer with white tails. The below picture from the first forest we entered gives you an idea of how dark the forest interior becomes just a few yards in. Don't get me wrong, this sort of forest looks very attractive from a distance, and I realise it's a crop like any other so aesthetics shouldn't cloud judgement. Also the Forestry Commission is very good about maintaining and signposting paths through the forest.
Wading across the next section of moorland, Haughton Common, we were trying to make for the next block of forest, Haggyshaw plantation, but simply couldn't see it. Without a GPS we would have assumed we were off course, but diligently sticking to the GPS route we soon realised that the landmark had now gone as most of this forest has been harvested, with felling operations ongoing.
Briefly the path leaves the forest and follows a local road past Willowbog, which seems to be a bonsai nursery. Let me guess… bonsai firs and spruce ?
The below picture is nothing special, apart from the fact that it shows daffodils in full bloom and good condition in May. By now the daffodils in Cornwall have completely finished, and it was about 2 months ago when they looked like this.
As we headed out of the next forest plantation over more boggy moorland towards Warks Burn we kept seeing signs for "Refreshments 1 mile", then "Tea and Pop 1/2 mile", then "Tea and Pop, up the hill".
It seemed unlikely that a tea room would be open during the holiday low season, and with so few walkers around. However, the Horneystead refreshments is a self-service oasis, with a farm barn housing home made cakes, scones and jam, a kettle, a microwave and fridge (tins of drink and milk for the tea), and even a collection of Pot Noodles. There's even a sofa in case it's raining outside. Everything is paid for into an honesty box. A wonderful find, and today it meant that we could have hot tea with our packed lunch, followed by home made fruit cake. The farm's ginger cat obligingly jumped onto Jonathan's knee just as I prepared to take a picture.
For the rest of the day's walk the Pennine Way leaves the bogs and forests behind (briefly, I'm sure they'll return tomorrow), and heads through gently undulating sheep farms and on country lanes. I think this must be a second/holiday home judging from the perfectly maintained 'farms' with large conservatories, and the fact that around three of the houses there were applications posted requesting a diversion to the Pennine Way to 'improve privacy'. Honestly, they must see at most half a dozen walkers a day even in the middle of the summer, and if they're that bothered then they can plant a hawthorn hedge around the boundary. Surely that's an easier option than forcing walkers to enter into some fiddly diversion just so the property owners never have to see anyone.
Near the end of the day the path passes Shitlington Hall and onto Shitlington Hill. Yes, it's pronounced like that. No silent 't' or anything. A local told us so, so it must be true.
The walking guide said that this final ascent was an unwelcome end finale to the day, but really it's only a 120m climb, so nothing to be bothered about at this stage. Also it's the one chance for a view into the distance, looking back across the ground we have covered today.
Another couple of miles on moorland and along the busy B6320 and we're into Bellingham (pronounced Belling-jam) and staying at a proper home B&B, which is a welcome change from last night.
Today's new sheep breeds.If anyone can identify them (no guessing please) then I'll update this entry.
Thank you to Roger and Philippa, and to Noelle and Mark. The consensus is that the grey sheep are Herdwicks, and the shaggy coated, banana headed ones are some sort of Leicester, probably a Mule cross.
The grey bodied sheep seems to be a confident climber. There were two of these sheep running down the road towards this field, and without pausing they simply clambered over the full height wall into the field to join their manger-mates. I wonder if the farmer knows they can do this.
Today's milage: 15.8 miles. Tomorrow's another long one, and is a return to the hills as we head towards the Cheviot hills.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
Today's Pennine Way section headed back to the wall from last night's scruffy Twice Brewed Inn then turning eastward, but only for a short distance before breaking away into the Northumberland wilds. Again this section of the wall is one of the best to walk, with some dramatic swoops and drops over crags and gaps. Much of the wall here is well 'consolidated' (ie. reconstructed from original stone) and with one of the best milecastles on the wall, Milecastle 39.
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| Milecastle 39 |
Less than a mile east of here the wall rises high above the lake which you can see in the above picture (Crag Lough) and drops to a gap in the wall which seems to be known here as Sycamore Gap, although I think there's more than one Sycamore Gap in the country.
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| Sycamore Gap |
At turret 37A the Pennine Way finally splits from the wall, heading across the typical boggy moorland which has occupied many of my previous rantings. Actually today this sort of boggy land wasn't a problem, only being in relatively short bursts, and since we've now had a couple of dry days it's probably drained down slightly. Plus we're undoubtedly improved our bog-hopping skills over the course of this walk, and can spot a wet dead-end among the tussocks from 20 paces. On leaving the wall the path first crosses a few fields containing hardy cattle and their calves, which have churned up the ground something rotten. However the plus side is that they've left some lovely cow fur balls impaled on the barbed wire where they've scratches themselves.
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| Executive cow toy |
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| Forest near East Stonefolds |
Wading across the next section of moorland, Haughton Common, we were trying to make for the next block of forest, Haggyshaw plantation, but simply couldn't see it. Without a GPS we would have assumed we were off course, but diligently sticking to the GPS route we soon realised that the landmark had now gone as most of this forest has been harvested, with felling operations ongoing.
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| Haggyshaw Plantation - forever in our hearths |
Briefly the path leaves the forest and follows a local road past Willowbog, which seems to be a bonsai nursery. Let me guess… bonsai firs and spruce ?
The below picture is nothing special, apart from the fact that it shows daffodils in full bloom and good condition in May. By now the daffodils in Cornwall have completely finished, and it was about 2 months ago when they looked like this.
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| Daffodils in May |
As we headed out of the next forest plantation over more boggy moorland towards Warks Burn we kept seeing signs for "Refreshments 1 mile", then "Tea and Pop 1/2 mile", then "Tea and Pop, up the hill".
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| Warks Burn - it's bigger than it looks |
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| Horneystead refreshments oasis |
For the rest of the day's walk the Pennine Way leaves the bogs and forests behind (briefly, I'm sure they'll return tomorrow), and heads through gently undulating sheep farms and on country lanes. I think this must be a second/holiday home judging from the perfectly maintained 'farms' with large conservatories, and the fact that around three of the houses there were applications posted requesting a diversion to the Pennine Way to 'improve privacy'. Honestly, they must see at most half a dozen walkers a day even in the middle of the summer, and if they're that bothered then they can plant a hawthorn hedge around the boundary. Surely that's an easier option than forcing walkers to enter into some fiddly diversion just so the property owners never have to see anyone.
Near the end of the day the path passes Shitlington Hall and onto Shitlington Hill. Yes, it's pronounced like that. No silent 't' or anything. A local told us so, so it must be true.
The walking guide said that this final ascent was an unwelcome end finale to the day, but really it's only a 120m climb, so nothing to be bothered about at this stage. Also it's the one chance for a view into the distance, looking back across the ground we have covered today.
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| View from Shitlington Hill |
Another couple of miles on moorland and along the busy B6320 and we're into Bellingham (pronounced Belling-jam) and staying at a proper home B&B, which is a welcome change from last night.
Today's new sheep breeds.
Thank you to Roger and Philippa, and to Noelle and Mark. The consensus is that the grey sheep are Herdwicks, and the shaggy coated, banana headed ones are some sort of Leicester, probably a Mule cross.
The grey bodied sheep seems to be a confident climber. There were two of these sheep running down the road towards this field, and without pausing they simply clambered over the full height wall into the field to join their manger-mates. I wonder if the farmer knows they can do this.
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| Grey climbing sheep |
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| Sheep and shearful |
Today's milage: 15.8 miles. Tomorrow's another long one, and is a return to the hills as we head towards the Cheviot hills.
If you would like to donate to the MND Association, please visit http://www.justgiving.com/PhilipJAWhite
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