Distance: 24.6km (402.1km), time spent: 8:20.
Weather: Overcast and rainy.
After a short, but good, section on one of the prominent parts of the Pennine Way it is time again for one of those strangely interesting interludes of the trail. In fact, the two days between Hadrian's Wall and the last rising fells on the skyline of the Pennine Way, the Cheviots. The feeling of wandering into one of those mysterious nowheres on the trail. I will return to the wall at the start of the walk, then begin my journey into the sparse countryside to the north of it.
View of Hotbank Crags, Crag Lough and Highshield Crags from Steel Rigg.
Ironically, my walk begin with a taxi ride, I have a wall to catch. The talkative, but friendly, taxi driver drops me off at Steel Rigg instead of Twice Brewed, spares me the short walk up. Starting from Steel Rigg means that I will have to walk again on a bit on a part that I walked yesterday, a revisit to a path revisited so to speak. It is not blue sky above Hadrian's Wall when I set off, but instead an atmospheric hue reminiscent of when I was here in 2013. It is a nice light on the sky.
Looking down upon Milecastle 39.
Sycamore Gap, but no Robin Hood or Kevin Costner to be seen, just me alone.
There are no one here, I am virtually alone on the path. I get both the striking foundations of Milecastle 39 and the revered Sycamore Gap to myself and wander lonesome over the Highshield Crags. Although the day is still young, the sky is becoming progressively darker. Out on the empty fields I will walk on shortly, I can see two solitary figures moving.
Rapishaw Gap. Six years ago, I stood and looked out from the wall and wondering where that lonely path leaving the Hadrian's Wall Path would take me
A melancholic view of Bromlee Lough and Sewingshields Crags.
I pass over Hotbank Crags with its undulating path and melancholic view back towards Crag Lough until I stand perched above the gap where the Pennine Way heads north and leaves the Hadrian's Wall Path. Six years ago, here at Rapishaw Gap, I stood at the signpost with The Pennine Way marked on it and looked out onto the empty fields to the north of the wall. That was the first time I had heard of this trail and my interest was kindled, seeing that lonesome path meanders it way across the tussocky moorland and disappear out of view.
Once having left the Hadrian's Wall Path, the Pennine Way returns back to its open moorland.
As soon as I have climbed over the wall, the sky has reached it grey limit and rain starts to fall. While I put on my rain gear, two walkers on the Hadrian's Wall Path comes by and we share some parting trails words. From here, the path goes over low rolling hills between the two lakes of Greenlee Lough and Bromlee Lough. There is something resembling accomplishment when I walk over the grassy surface, only surrounded by sheep, a feeling that I have finished something I started upon a long time ago. The rain abates, but the clouds linger.
At the edge of the woods, leaving the moorland and farmland behind, under rainy sky and a surprise visit by the sun.
A look back from the woods.
On its way through England, the Pennine Way passes through remarkable few forests, as most of them has disappeared. There still exists some, and the most famous is probably Kielder Forest, which lies still some couple of kilometres away north. Backed by a surprising light from the sun, it is then quite welcome to enter a section of the trail that goes through a forest. Although the forest may not be the most inspiring. Looking back, I get a last glimpse of the vertical crags of the wall, rising up against the dark background. The walk through the forest is a wet, muddy and squelchy experience. Rain returns. I pass by the turnoff to the remote bothy at Haughtongreen (1km off the route), ignoring the thoughts of taking a look at it.
The last view of Hadrian's Wall and its crags and path.
Bellcrag Flow, once a shallow lake left when the ice retreated after the last ice age, now a huge peat bog.
I take a short and wet detour to the Bellcrag Flow, an ancient and one of 57 border mires. The peat here has accumulated up to 10 metres deep over 10 000 years, that is a bog you do not want to fall down into. The vegetation is here close to natural and consists of a unique mix of plants and insects. Looking out over it, is is a remarkable open ground cutting through the forest.
Heading into the open moorland of Hawk Side.
Not a sheepfold, but a treefold, a stone fence in the middle of Hawk Side keeping the trees from escaping into the moors.
Just as open is the moorland afterwards, over Hawk Side. A flat expanse under the rainy clouds, with soft and wet ground. Located in the middle is the remains of a stone building, or just a stone fence. Now it only serves as an enclosure to keep the few trees inside from venturing out into the moorland around. Good spot for a break, and in the bleak weather I feel it is time for some Romney's Everest Kendal Mint Cake. Of course, this is far from being Everest. It tastes really sweet, with an abundance of mint.
A bleak view and scenery from Hawk Side, somewhere down there the Hadrian's Wall Path goes.
Fueled by mint, I leave Hawk Side and disappear into the wet and quiet woods again. From the forest, the Pennine Way heads through a sparse countryside in the vicinity of Stonehaugh (where Sid and Gil went to yesterday), only a few scattered farms lies around. I can hear voices from the Ladyhill Bird of Prey Visitor Centre, and wonder for a short minute if I should go take a look, they have days where you can witness falcons and owls in flight. As the falcons fly, my mind wanders on and so does I. On the gravel track someone had drawn a jellyfish and written 'jelly 5eva', both things seems out of place. Rain is on hold again.
A wet walk through the forest.
After leaving the forest, the Pennine Way enters empty farmland in the area outside Stonehaugh.
After more empty spaces and a crossing over the Wark Burn lying deep down in the landscape, I come to the lonely farm of Horneystead. Here a young couple also walking the Pennine Way, although I have never met them before, has installed themselves and are preparing lunch. The owners of the farm once hiked the Pacific Crest Trail and inspired by the trail magic they met on that trail, they have open up a part of their farm to provide shelter, food and drink for the hikers passing by. All on a serve-yourself basis. The young couple is tired of the rain and surface and is considering leaving the trail for another paths. Rain starts up, more intense. It is good to have shelter for a short time, I spend it eating my lunch. Sophie and Roxanne appear just as I about to leave.
A lonesome farm underneath a dark sky.
The feeling of the walk is now more like the Camino in Spain, not a bad thing in itself, with walking on paths interspersed with some walking on tarmac. The rural landscape around is significantly farmland. No cars on the roads at all. While walking towards and up to Shitlington Crags, the air thickens with rain and clouds, rolling fast over the landscape. The world is a bleak representation of its usual self, or maybe this is usual here. A farmer is out herding his sheep, with his dogs posing valiantly and obediently on his atv, before sending them out to chase the sheep.
After Lowstead, the Pennine Way took to paved roads.
The path climbing up Shitlington Crags, rainclouds upon rainclouds rolling in behind.
Shitlington Crags provides the only sort of elevation or climb of any sort today, through an interesting little track leading up between small cliffs and rocks. The view from the top is a contrastful mixture of heavy rain and streaks of sunlight. A large communication mast towers above. The last of the moorland walks follows afterwards. By this time I am quite wet, although not soaked all the way through. Together with the sheep I can vaguely spot Bellingham through the grey colors.
Light and dark from Shitlington Crags.
Bellingham in view through the grey weather.
Somehow taking the wrong turn, I end up on the road instead, which I follow all the way into Bellingham. I am heading towards The Cheviot, so fittingly I take a room at The Cheviot Hotel, getting a large room where a little sheep doll greets me welcome. Rainy day by all means and not the same exciting scenery as before, but still a strangely good day on the trail. I do not go straight into the shower (already spent a lot of the day in a shower), but sit down and ponder. What to do now?
A sheep greets me welcome at The Cheviot Hotel.
<< Twice BrewedHareshaw Linn >>
No comments:
Post a Comment