Day Two - Wooler to Barrowburn

A wobbly Coast to Coast path – Rambling Pete’s Way

Day Two – Wooler to Barrowburn
Weather: Early cloud cover, with afternoon sun and blue skies
Mileage: 17.7 with 3733Ft of ascent

I woke up this morning with my legs looking like they were marinated tandoori chicken – but slightly bigger pieces than normal, and gently throbbing away. But at least I could laugh in the face of scratchy heather expected today as I had my trews on. I was fortified by my second Italian meal last night and a lighter breakfast, both of them very nice. It was a walk of two halves today, halfway to The Cheviot, and all uphill for 8 miles, and then mostly downhill to Barrowburn – apart from the extra uphill bit that wasn’t on the menu. I said my goodbyes at the B&B and wandered down to the local Co-op to get today’s snacks and some juice. Much to my surprise and delight I found a supply of Marmite crisps, so I had a spring in my step before the day had started. Then it was off, wandering through the town and uphill on the St Cuthberts Way path towards Wooler Common. I stopped for a chat with a frisky OAP who walked up on the common everyday – he told me not to expect any crops today, and my leg thumped the floor in relief. After listening politely for 10 minutes or more I said a bunch of goodbyes for the second time this morning and continued up the road. Soon enough my route veered off road up a metalled track to a gate and then onto an old fort site full of lumps and bumps - the Kettles Fort – there are so many forts around the Northumberlands hills, it makes me wonder at every hill I passed. I actually only found out recently – History was never my strong point, and nor was Physics (a comment on my school report actually states – ‘the worse exam paper I have ever seen’ – I’m quite proud of that in a perverse kind of way) – where was I – oh yes, nearby to Wooler was the site of Ad Gefrin (Yeavering). This is an area that has been occupied for over 5,000 years and had the odd passer-by before that. In fact it was the site of a Royal dynasty from AD548 – ruled by an Anglo-Saxon dynasty. One of its claims to fame was that the Italian bishop Paulinus spent 36 days boring the arse off the residents – no wonder so many converted. A short walk later through some plantation trees took me up Kenterdale Hill and out onto Wooler Common, an elevated sheep pasture that gently rises up towards the hills. I passed by a remote farm here and continued on a metalled track that became more of a grassy track ahead through more sheep pasture and then out onto rough pasture and moorland. There are plenty of lumps and bumps around to remind me of the early history of the landscape, and keep me occupied as the miles started to tick by. I did expect some boggy ground today, but after all this dry weather it was mostly springy turf, a relief for already tired legs. Unlike yesterday’s route today’s path was all I could have wished for, and it had a good rhythm to it, and never got really stale – I was feeling quite pleased with myself actually, because if I’m honest I might have done a little better yesterday, but then again that’s a bit harsh as I don’t know the lay of the land well enough to judge. Higher up on the moors the lapwings and curlew tried to lure me away from their nesting grounds without success – it was a good spectacle though, and I always associate the sounds that these birds make with teenage holidays down on Holy Island near Anglesey in North Wales – really a coastal sound to me, but in reality they are associated with rivers and moorland as their natural habitat. On my way to a very remote valley at the Carey Burn I walked past a vast swathe of yellow flowering broom with the bees buzzing away like crazy and the broom smelling sweetly, although I knew it would look messy soon enough, and that’s why not many people have it as a garden shrub. My path dropped down towards a very peaceful valley where the Carey Burn flows, I could have spent some time here it was so quiet, the sort of place you can sit and contemplate your navel – and think thoughts like ‘why is belly button fluff always blue?’ Several weeks after this walk I revisited the area and walked up the next door valley along Harthope Burn, another beautiful area – there are so many up here. I crossed a couple of wooden bridges, well used by the sheep by the looks of it, they have strips of wood nailed across a sloping ramp to help them on the way. I followed the Broadstruthers Burn which pulled me up the slopes towards my next hill at Broadhope Hill. But after the peace comes the grind, and despite the good paths so far, I had to cross some rough ground before picking up a gamekeepers track – first time I’ve been grateful to them for a while – they have a well heeled shooting lodge at Broadstruther – a place literally in the middle of nowhere. I was tempted to try the doors and look for a key under a stone, but this was no shack – double glazed and neatly painted, sitting beneath a stand of deciduous trees. I’d heard a lot about the bog trot through this area and looking at the amount of eyelashes on the OS map I thought I was in for some wet boots. I decided to follow a sheep trod up the side of Broadhope Hill to cut the corner off on my approach to the Cheviot, and it took me up to more gamekeepers’ tracks – I knew they were due to the quad bike tracks and the grouse feeding stations at regular intervals. Judging by the number of young grouse leaping about they are in for a glorious 12^th, or whatever day it is. Behind me was a great patchwork of managed moorland over on Cold Law and ahead of me I could see Hedgehope Hill looming large – there was me thinking blimey I didn’t think The Cheviot was that steep, so I checked my map and realized it wasn’t. I had to drop down off Broadhope Hill a little bit before going up to Scald Hill, a bit of a long slog up to the top, and onto the final steep pull up to The Cheviot – at least the peat was nice, soft, bouncy and dry. A nicely positioned stile gave me a rest to retie my laces before The Cheviot, the cotton grass bobbing around in the breeze. The haul up to the top wasn’t too bad and I stopped a few times to admire the view behind me and gaze back towards my start point – the sky was getting brighter as well, but still a bit gloomy above. The views over the Happy Valley below Hedgehope Hill were enticing and I’m going to return soon to walk here. As I approached the top the stony rubble path gave way to a paved path leading up to a ladder stile and on towards the Cheviot itself. It was cold up on the top and once I was on the paving slabs it was a short step to the summit trig point. The trig sits up on a plinth and afforded me some relief from the cool breeze – on the plus side the breeze had blown me up the hill, and I could finally use my new fleece. After a snack or two, I was off again along the pavement (on and off pretty much to Windy Gyle) and once down to Cairn Hill I had great views north to many hills- the Eidon Hills on the St. Cuthbert’s Way, the great hillfort at Yeavering Bell, The Trossachs and even Ben Lomond – you can see a long way from up there – (the landlord at the B&B told me you can see over to the Lake District in the winter – we had been drinking though!). There’s a glorious patch of boardwalk, weathered silver over the years, flanked either side by cotton grass, and a joy to stroll along – trying to miss the odd spot of bitumen, it reminded me of the seaside… but the tide was a long way out, and all to soon these gave way to the flags again. Ahead of me was King’s Seat with an odd trig point just to the right of the path, and not really on a high point – very strange. I enjoyed the views so much that I missed my turn off and added another mile to my journey – muppet brain…..again, and ended up at Windy Gyle where I realized the error of my way. But I picked up another grassy path that led me all the way down a broad grassy ridge path to the farm at Trows. Down in the valley I had peace, quiet and the hard road on my blister. The last mile and a half was down the Rowhope Burn, watching the swallows dipping and diving. On the fence posts were signs forbidding access to military vehicles to the meadows – hopefully that will stop them. Below Barrow Law sits Barrowburn and the B&B tearooms – where I had a lovely welcome and a very welcome cuppa. Later on I sat in the sunshine looking down over the meadows and valley, enjoying my meal accompanied by a beer or four. I discussed my route for tomorrow with David who kindly pointed me up past his camping barn, I stayed here ( http://www.barrowburn.com ) with great hosts – Eunice and David, with Eunice correctly forecasting that the England football team were ‘not very good’.