THE CLASSIC CHEVIOT ROUND
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n the great scheme of British hills and
mountains the
Despite their relative lack of stature, the
Cheviot Hills offer boundless opportunities for big walks and the best of these
links together all six 2000 feet hills in a single days outing. Climbing the
summits of the Cheviot, Windy Gyle, Bloodybush Edge, Cushat Law, Comb
Fell and Hedgehope Hill, this walk is an epic 23
miles rollercoaster journey, involving over 5000 feet of ascent, across wild
and lonely hills. This is the classic Cheviot round.
It was late July and after a fairly
unpredictable summer the weather was, at last, beginning to behave itself. The
forecast was for a settled day, ideal for a big walk, so it was up with the
worms and an early start from the chattering Hawsen
Burn, deep in the Harthope Valley. Setting out along
the short stretch of tarmac towards the New Burn, and the start of the climb
towards Scald Hill, the sun was already tingling the skin. It seemed that a
very hot day was on the cards.
Heading uphill, with superb views of the
majestic Hedgehope Hill opening up across the valley,
the unpretentious top of Scald Hill was passed over rapidly. Just time for a
quick glance over the fence into the remote Lambden
Valley, then on down to the unusually dry depression before the start of the
stiff pull up to the summit plateau of the Cheviot. Once there it was an easy
half mile, over the millstone pathway,
to the triangulation pillar marking the
summit of Northumberland`s highest hill. The pillar
sits on an enormous concrete plinth, supported by an 11 foot pile, and is the
third such pillar to have stood on this lofty spot, the previous two having
long since sunk into the mire.
The triangulation pillar on the
summit of the Cheviot
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t was only 9.00 am and the highest hill of the
day was behind me as I continued across the beautifully peaceful plateau
towards the next 2000 footer, Windy Gyle, just over 5
miles away. The millstone pathway runs, almost without interruption, across the
morass of glutinous peat bogs of the Cheviot passing first a small lough and then Cairn Hill, the south western outhill of the Cheviot. The extent of the lough varies with the seasons but never totally dries up,
unlike the numerous peat holes which litter the plateau. There is a story that
the lough was, one 18th century midsummer,
covered with ice so thick that it could be comfortably walked over.
Once at the western edge of the plateau, the
main Pennine Way footpath was joined and a tremendous
ridge walk took me along the border between England and Scotland. It was easy
downhill walking, with panoramic views into Scotland and ahead to Windy Gyle, over ground that was for many centuries probably the
most wild and dangerous in the country. The forest encircling Northumberland`s Usway Burn was
spread out to the east like a giant green carpet, hiding the remains of the
famous and illicit 18th century `Rory`s
Still`.
Down past the triangulation pillar on King`s Seat, over 2 hours into the journey, and my first sighting
of the day of another human, heading uphill. A friendly exchange revealed that
he was on the final leg of the Pennine Way, having
started the day from Uswayford farm. His 270 miles
journey, along England`s most arduous long distance
trail, was one of utter perseverance. He had completed individual sections of
the walk year by year and now, after a mammoth 10 years, he was close to `the
holy grail`. Soon the medieval cross border route of Clennell
Street was crossed and the 1 mile climb up the north eastern slope of Windy Gyle started as the sun began, thankfully, to weaken.
It was 10.50 am when the impressive Russell`s Cairn was reached, sitting on top of the fourth
highest of the Cheviot Hills. At 619 metres, Windy Gyle has the feeling of a true mountain and is certainly a
place to admire the outstanding vista and to soak up the history that fills the
clear air of this elevated spot. Thoughts of Lord Francis Russell`s
bloody death near this spot in 1585 sent a shiver up my spine as I settled, on
the loose stones of the Bronze Age burial cairn, for an early lunch.
The summit of Windy Gyle and Russell`s Cairn
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oon I had wasps for company, so it was time to
make a `sharp exit`, as I hurriedly finished the remnants of a peanut butter
sandwich. Nearly 9 miles into the walk, with over 14 still to complete, I
headed down the grassy slopes of Windy Gyle, past Scotchman`s Ford, and then made a slight diversion from the
main track to the flat green top of Little Ward Law. As I looked across to its neighbour, Ward Law, I wondered why Little Ward Law should
be the higher of the two. An illogical misnomer or an ancient miscalculation?
Perhaps we shall never know.
Leaving the hill behind and stretching out
downhill, the rough gravel track leading, ultimately, to Uswayford
farm was soon reached. Half a mile further on, beneath the steep-sided Hazely Law, Clennell Street was
crossed for the second time of the day. It was hard to believe that, over 400
years ago, this quiet place, known in medieval times as Oswold
Myddle ( ie Usway Middle ), was one of the most important track
junctions of the border hills and that a drover`s inn
stood here in this empty landscape.
Licking my lips at the thought of an ice cool glass of Guinness, I pressed on
down the track to Uswayford farm, one of the most
isolated in the country. In the winter of 1940/41 the weather was so bad that
the farm was cut off for 17 consecutive weeks. Crossing the narrow wooden
footbridge over the Usway Burn, just beyond the farm,
I headed up towards the saddle separating the 540 metre
Yarnspath Law and the next hill of the day, Bloodybush Edge. Tracking the trickle of Bill`s Sike steeply uphill the
humidity created by the heat and the damp foliage made the climb particularly
draining and I was glad to reach the fresher air of higher ground. The climb
from the saddle followed an old fence line relatively easily to the
unspectacular 610 metre top of Bloodybush Edge and
the second, and last, human encounter of the walk.
Now over the half way mark and with 4 hours 20
minutes of walking in the bag, I was eager to press on to Cushat
Law, just under 2 miles away. Following the fence line over wet ground I had,
stretching away to the south, the vast swathe of the Kidland
Forest for company. Once the grazing ground for the flocks and herds of the
monks of Newminster Abbey, the area was planted with
trees between 1950 and 1970. Being the most southerly point of the walk,
reaching the lonely top of Cushat Law marked an
important psychological watershed. I was now, it seemed, `homeward bound`. In
these parts `cushat` means `wood-pigeon` and `law`
means `hill` and from the shelter cairn just below the summit there were
excellent views northwards to the Cheviot`s speckled,
southern face.