Well I had planned to post up each day but signal and conditions meant it was simply not possible, I am taking a rest day and sitting in a nice pub today so can type up a few bits which I will put live in a few days.
Day one. A hut too far
Maxine dropped me off at the Borders hotel at around 10am and off I went up the hill into the cursed earth that is the Cheviot Hills. A range of relatively remote and barren hills/mountains just into Scotland across the border. They don’t really get the respect they deserve, they are neither very high or very technical being mostly grassy fell and bog. But their location and remoteness mean they should be respected, help is a long way away if its needed and any rescue must be either a long walk in or need air resources. Road access to any part of the outskirts requires a lengthy drive around the area with no roads passing through the centre.
Off I went up the hill on the lane towards Burnhead Farm where the lane turns in a track and eventually just a muddy trail. This is the lower route option and steadily climbs up to 480m where the high and low route join back up again. Weather was windy with temps around 2-3c but not too bad and only the odd hint of light rain in the wind.
I was finding the climb fairly hard work but was not using my poles as I wanted to see how my niggles were without them. I was making steady slow progress and my pack and lack of fitness were slowing me down but not too bad and my niggly hip shut up after a while so all good.
The views were great once I was up onto the side of the Schill at 601m, now up on the ridge line the full force of the wind was present and mostly into my face and sometimes just for fun into the side of it! To help matter the rain had started. My trusty Tilly hat and Paramo Jacket and Trousers were so far holding out the weather, I did have to give in at some point in the afternoon and put on some gloves. My Sealskins which are about as weatherproof as teabag but they are old and I want to wear them old so I can chuck them without feeling too guilty.
It was not long before I was up to Henhole and the Auchope Hut came into view. A very welcome sight and a chance for a quick chat with a local and the only person I spoke to in 3 days. He was a local police officer from Hethpool and was just coming out from his own break in the hut. He was curious as to why I had a ginger cat in a plastic bag on my pack though!
I popped into the hut out of the wind for 10mins and had a drink and a snack.
So off I went back into the wind and cracked on, the temperature really started to drop as it headed towards darkness. It was at or just below freezing and if you included the wind chill it would have been a few degrees below. Here is where the path really started to get shitty as the bogs were in fine boggy form and attempting to remove my boots at every opportunity. Some of the most boggy sections were flagged but this did not help as the flags were frozen and you can’t walk on them and stay upright so back through the bogs it was! This meant it was a tough old slog over the hills and down to the next hut. It was cold and wet and miserable, my Paramo Velez had long since given up keeping the rain out but was still warm enough and keeping the most of the wind out. The trousers were wet but again keeping me warm enough. My Goretex Salewa boots had also given up being dry and had had enough of the bogs but were still comfy and warm. The Tilly hat however was the star of the show, easily the best bit of kit I own. Warm and dry and windproof and with little flaps I can pop down from inside to keep my ears warm, it was a godsend.
I made it to the Lamb hill hut at around 21:30 and got myself inside and started to set up a sleeping area on the benches with a cooking area to the side. I realised I had not got enough water to cook and make up fresh squash. So out into the cold I went and smashed the ice off a frozen muddy puddle and came back and filtered some clean water from the mud using my Sawyer mini filter.
Once I had stuffed my face I got into my sleeping bag in just my Rab base layer top, underwear and socks with my Paramo insulated beanie to keep my head warm. My Snugpack Venture AR was warm enough on my precarious perch on the bench. I did have to be careful adjusting position during the night so as not to fall off the bench when adjusting as you do during the night. I awoke every couple of hours to adjust position and at about 3am had a snack of a YPB bar.
Day two. Boggy McBogfest!
I awoke just before first light around 8am and listened to the sound of the wind and rain hitting the hut, the forecast for today was supposed to be a bit better but clearly God did not get the weather forecasters messages!
my Velez Jacket and Trousers were still wet from the night before, it’s always fun getting back into wet kit ready to head out again but as I don’t have any other trousers with me or many spare garments it’s worth putting the wet stuff back on again to go out in the rain. Even if it was dry it’s worth it to try to dry the wet kit out with your body heat even although it takes a while to warm it up again.
So off I set into the lovely wind and rain, the wind varied between 20-40 mph and either in your face or into the side of your face! though mostly into your face. This meant head down and slog forward and not many photos or views of any kind. Bracing would be a good description.
It was above freezing when the sun poked through which was good for unfreezing the flags but also softening the bogs up and making them deeper and more boggy if that’s possible. I was however descending slowly with only a few minor hills in the way between me and the edge of the Cheviot Hills and hopefully some lower protected areas with forest to get me out of the wind and rain.
On the edge of the Cheviot’s there are military ranges used for live firing and training areas for the Army. Plenty of big warning signs telling you not to touch explody things and stay out of the range areas if red flags are flying. I skirted these areas and passed the old Roman camps as I descended out of the main hills onto the lower moorland and into the forested areas of Northumberland National Park.
This meant some better better tracks and trails and better progress through the weather. I was quite bored of being soaked and wet through and being pelted with rain by now and glad of the relative shelter afforded by the forest to my right.
I descended into Byrness and crossed my first actual road in the late afternoon and even though I saw no people still it felt like I was getting back to civilisation. If I picked up an injury or had an accident on the route after here it would be relatively easy to be collected and rescued. This was a good for safety but a bad thing for making me suck up the suffering and keep moving in the wet.
It was going to be dark inside the next 30-40 minutes so I chose to look for a place to discreetly camp south of Byrness, there were farms here and the odd sound of dogs and quads in the distance. Probably Farmers checking on animals such as sheep, so I needed somewhere deep enough into the trees to not be seen by casual passers by and this would also give me decent cover from the heaviest of the rain and wind. A running watercourse near by would be good if possible as well so I don’t have to go far for water to cook.
I found a fairly dense forest section just south of a farm and a ford across the River Rede.
I set up my small 1 person tent and organised my mat and shook out my sleeping bag to loft it a little while I collected some water run of from the river in a channel in the forest. 1ltr collected and ready to filter, 500ml for cooking and 500ml for drinking. Once the tent and camp was set up I stripped off and got into my sleeping bag with just my underwear and base layer on with a Paramo insulated hat. Then I heated water on my small gas stove in the porch for a dehydrated meal and used the meal to warm my sleeping bag as I waited for it to re-hydrate.
I tucked myself in for the evening and luckily I had 4G so could answer some emails and check my messages here while I shook like a shitting dog till I finally gave in and got out my Montane Prism jacket and put that on to stay warm. All my wet clothes were still soaked and hanging off a tree outside the tent as they could not get any wetter and would at least drip off some of the water if the rain stopped. It did not look like stopping! My boots were tucked into the small porch with my pack so they at least would not fill up with water though they were also soaking and no way were they going to get drier overnight
It was going to be a chilly wet evening and night and my legs were grumbling about the miles of bogs and hills done over the last couple of days. Not a big amount by most standards or even my standard of a few years ago but in my current state of fitness I was asking a fair bit of them.
Day Three. Lulled into a false sense of security!
