Well, here it was at last – the final section. Well, we weren’t actually going to cover it all in one day but we wouldn’t be hitting civilisation again until the finish so it was effectively one last stage. We set out in bright sunshine – amazingly it looked like my final wish had been granted as I’d particularly hoped to see the Cheviot Hills for the first time in good weather. The stroll along the road back to the Pennine Way crossing was nice in the dappled shade of the trees and early morning lack of traffic. We realised when we doubled back on a service road parallel to the A68 that we could have gone in from the other end and saved a few hundred yards but no worries, we soon turned off onto a footpath and headed into the forest and began to climb.

No idea where the real path was, we just kept slogging upwards!

And it was quite a climb, culminating in a short stretch at the top where we must have lost the footpath at some point and were effectively just scrambling up a grass covered cliff! Looking back from the top though the view was huge as we’d gained a lot of height in a very short distance.

We were rewarded with a damn fine view! We could just see the edge of Byrness village way below – left of centre in this pic.

The terraced rows of Byrness were just visible down to the right poking out of the end of the tree cover, and the latter stages of the previous days walk through Redesdale Forest and beyond were laid out before us. A brief shuffle along the fence at the top of the slope brought us to a gate bearing bright new information boards welcoming us to the Cheviots and the last 24 miles of the PW. They told us to look out for Roman archaeology, birds of prey and feral goats. Full marks to whoever decided to put the notices there – they were a nice formal welcome to this last distinct part of the walk.

Well ok, we couldn’t say we hadn’t been warned!

Once through the gate we were relieved to find it much easier going than we’d become used to over the last 18 days. The paths were on firm, short grass mostly with duckboards covering the few soggy areas.

Smooth rounded hills as far as we could see, quite different to the Pennines

We climbed steadily into the huge range – not strictly mountains but nonetheless massive, rounded, hulking hills laid out in receding layers to the edge of vision ahead and with long views to distant horizons behind. I must admit I hadn’t really expected to be particularly impressed, having always imagined the Cheviots to be a fairly featureless range of borderland hills but I was wrong.

Hill walking at its very best – fantastic!

It was a truly beautiful environment and so uplifting after such a lot of tramping through wet grass, bogs and scrubby moorland to finally be able to walk easily and fully appreciate the wide open scenery beneath a wide blue sky. We soon reached the border fence and congratulated ourselves as we crossed into Scotland for the first time, only to return to England soon after of course!

Plenty of well placed signposts made navigation a breeze

In fact we lost track which country we were in after a while as the path seemed to cross back and forth over fences several times. It suddenly struck me as we walked that it was the fences that made the Cheviots so different to anywhere we’d been so far. All through Derbyshire, Yorkshire, Cumbria and Northumberland the fields had been marked out by stone walls or hedges with just the occasional fence here and there dividing up larger fields. The Cheviots have no walls or hedges, or trees either now I think of it, only fences, and most of those are post and wire. This gives the landscape a distinctly open and wild look which I hadn’t really seen before – even the high moorlands on the Pennines usually have walls across the tops and the valleys are quite cluttered.

Roman roads, drovers roads and footpaths cross the range but thankfully no modern roads have encroached so far

There were plenty of signposts along the way which was helpful. They were also quite entertaining partly because it was nice to see all the names I’d read about so much and associated with nearing the end of the walk but also because many are just such nice names – Mozie Law, Beefstand Hill, Windy Gyle to pick a few. The Yearning Saddle Mountain Refuge Hut on Lamb Hill was interesting, a bit like a garden summerhouse or shed from a distance but obviously very much more solidly built when seen close up. We had a quick look inside just out of curiosity but then carried straight on. While walking away from the hut we briefly saw a group of three walkers a quarter of a mile or so behind us on the path but they turned off before catching us up. They were the only other people we saw all day.

A wilderness by UK standards!

The section from there to Windy Gyle seemed a bit more wild and heathery and Windy Gyle was indeed windier. The afternoon was cooling down a bit as clouds were beginning to gather overhead and the last few miles to Auchope Cairn and the second Mountain Refuge Hut – our destination for the day – became a bit less of a sunny stroll and more of a weary plod.

Heading towards the Cheviot itself. We’d already decided not to bother with the optional climb to its summit, long views were getting very hazy and we were getting tired!

The paths were getting a lot softer too until we reached a very welcome stretch of pale grey duckboards that helped us over the highest hill of the day. The long steep slope down to the hut was a knee-tester but luckily ours passed and we went inside and shut the door on the strong, chilly wind that had sprung up to accompany the thickening clouds. We were both much more tired than we’d realised and as we dined on our strange but pleasant enough meal of cold sausage rolls, hot Reiters veggie risotto and Mr Kipling lemon slices, we decided to forget camping and just stay the night in the hut.

Our venue for the night- the tiny blob on the hilltop before the wooded clough, just above-left of centre is the mountain refuge hut

As the evening wore on we were so glad we hadn’t pitched the tents – it turned in to one of the roughest nights we’d ever experienced! The wind howled and groaned around the creaking hut and the rain hammered down hard for most of the night. I fell off the narrow bench at one point and decided that as I was up – after a fashion – I might as well brave the great outdoors for a swift call of nature. The rain had eased off for the moment although there was still a gale blowing. I loosely pulled on my waterproof trousers and jacket but as the drizzle was blowing in every direction including upwards I still got wetter than expected! And it’s amazing how dark it gets on a remote hilltop on a stormy night – I’d stupidly left my torch inside but I guess it was getting close to dawn as I managed to find my way around OK except when I fell over the duckboard outside the door! I certainly couldn’t see much more than a few different shades of black! I got back in to my sleeping bag and managed to get back to sleep but I made sure I clung on to the hut’s framework every time I turned over after that!

Luxury accommodation – Auchope Mountain Refuge Hut! We were very grateful for its shelter

Day 17 | Menu | Day 19