The walking bug

The final day of the walking festival and we take a different driving route, through Otterburn and Elsdon and the Grasslees Valley to the forest car park at Harbottle.

I have not seen midges like this since I was last in the midge capital of the north, Kielder. They pile into the car as we try to get our boots and waterproofs on as quickly as we can. We are despatched up the hill to the relative safety of the edge of the wood, where we have our pre-walk introduction once everyone has arrived.

We head off on a moorland path on the margin of the wood. Midges continue to be a problem despite the Avon lady’s attentions. However, I am soon distracted by the taste of the ripening bilberries.

Today’s walk is looking at some of the archaeological interest in Coquetdale and, after a short detour to Moss’ Cairn, our main place of interest is the Drake Stone. We are told of the healing properties of the stone and how sickly babies were passed over the stone in a bid to absorb the energy concentrated at this hotspot in the landscape. How they got the babies up there remains a mystery – 1,2,3…catch! However, Tomlinson tells us that “Harbottle is an exceptionally healthy place….. and mortality among children is almost unknown”.

My chakra lady from yesterday tells me more about the ley lines which have been mapped around the stone – it turns out she also teaches divining.

We look at some of the evidence of extraction of millstones from the mounds surrounding the Drake Stone, before heading on to Harbottle Lough, described by David “Dippy” Dixon as a “lonely eerie tarn in the hollow of the hills”.

We take lunch sitting on various rocky outcrops by the the lough, listening to the boom of the guns on the ranges, which have been active all week.

Refreshed, we head back into the wood – fairly boggy in parts and with slippery tree roots underfoot – before emerging on the “Coal Road”. Now used by the military to transport their heavy stuff, as witnessed by the extra-wide cattle grids – this road used to be maintained by the settlements along its route. Thus a stone by the road is marked “A” for Alwinton on one side and “Bid” for Biddlestone on the other.

As the Coal Road joins the present day road into Alwinton, we spot a field filled with common and spotted orchids.

Over the bridge – pedestrians only, as it is being strengthened this summer and is closed to traffic – we head past Low Alwinton Cottages to view the lime-kiln, then on past an angling lodge belonging to the late Jean Muir’s husband, which is allegedly furnished in the Muir tartan.

And then back into Harbottle village as the rains come down again. It is the end of our week and we say goodbye to our trusty guides Alison and Martin, who both ask me whether the Office Walker has got the walking bug for good?

Pedometer: 10,135 (final count – 85,552 steps, or something like 45 miles)

Is your lady well?

A full-English, with only the best local ingredients, at Maggie’s breakfast table had the Office Walker and the Grey Bombshell re-charged and ready to face anything that Shepherd’s Walks and the Northumberland countryside could throw at us.

We bumped into volunteer walks leaders Martin and Janice. Er, no, we aren’t on the nine-mile walk today, we’ve opted for the six – the health-walkers group. “Better tell them you just had a lightly-poached egg then” says Martin.

We meet up at the Forestry Commission car park at Holystone. Most of these health-walkers look pretty fit to me.

First stop, out of the village was the Lady’s Well. Named after the Augustinian Canonesses, based at their 12th century priory built at Holystone, who looked after the well. It is now taken care of by the National Trust. In the grounds is a statue of St.Paulinus, or is it St.Ninian? 

The pure waters once supplied the village and it looks so good you could probably bottle it and sell it on on for a premium.

One of our company tells me about the chakras associated with this site and with Drake’s Stone, where we are walking tomorrow.

On through more colourful meadows to Sharperton, where we again tested Jon’s knowledge of sheep. No, not ginger ones this time – but they did seem to have rather long necks:

We walked a short stretch of quiet road, admiring, naming and photographing some of the flowers on the roadside verges, before realising that the rest of the group were well ahead of us. As we caught up, the rains came down as turned left into Harbottle Forest. Gaining a bit of height over the uneven and sometimes squelchy ground we took our lunch break, having left the rains behind. The chosen spot was a pretty waterfall – however the midges got there before us. Some of us ate midges in our sarnies; others just fed the midges.

As we continued through the forest there was evidence of logging activity all around and there was some discussion on whether it would be replanted with broad-leaved species or whether, for the sake of the red-squirrel, pine would be preferable.

Out of the forest was a short stretch of moorland, and then on to a paved path that took us all the way back to Holystone. Those health walkers were still in the peak, but we had managed to keep apace.

Pedometer: 11,606 (cumulative 75,417)

Somewhere over the rainbow

Thursday evening’s walk started unpromisingly. There had been heavy rain late afternoon, and although the sun was coming through we got a an early drenching along the banks of the Coquet as we left Rothbury. However, every cloud has a multi-coloured lining – or in our case a double-rainbow:

There were not many birds out at this stage, but our expert for the evening Martin Kitching encouraged us to listen out as the rain died away. We saw adult sand martins flying in and out of their nests on the opposite bank, and a couple of chicks appeared waiting for their dinner. Since you ask, yes, I did get my brown-ale pie from Rothbury bakery and, yes, it was delish.

The dominant song initially was the song thrush whose voice was carrying hundreds of yards from a line of distant trees. Apparently we heard various types of warbler, but I was too far back from Martin to catch what was being said. Our route saw us climbing quite quickly across field footpaths with great views of the Cheviots behind us.

A brilliant yellow-hammer posed for our field-glasses for a good five minutes to everyone’s delight.

It is an old one but a good one: Jon asked Martin to explain how to tell the difference between rooks and crows. “You can’t play chess with a crow” rejoined one of the company – proving that even birders have a sense of humour… of sorts. But Martin’s explanation was as follows: if you see a group of crows, then they are rooks; if you see a solitary rook, it’s a crow.

Passing a farm and its barns, we looked up to see swallows and their bairns – being re-fuelled in mid-air with incredible dexterity.

And the ginger sheep that Martin had been promising all walk for shepherd Jon to identify? It was actually a goat. But it did give Jon the chance to tell us more of his shepherding tales.

Returning via Sharpe's Folly and down the slope into Rothbury, the Office Walker and the Grey Bombshell’s joints were beginning to write letter’s of complaint. Would we be fit again in time for tomorrow’s adventures?

Pedometer: 10,651 (cumulative 63,811)

The Shaun Ranger rides again

Back with National Park ranger Shaun on Thursday afternoon for what might be entitled “Wild flowers part 2”. In fact it was the hay meadows walk to Barrowburn, a site of special scientific interest, because of the quality of its meadows.

The drive to Wedder Leap car park was worth the price of admission on its own. Seven miles or so beyond Alwinton, we drove on a single-track road, with the M.O.D. ranges on our left, through some of the finest scenery Northumberland has to offer. And you just have to drive slowly – the sheep aren’t scared of cars around here.

My camera was clicking as soon as I got out of the the car park:

This was the shortest of our walks. Shaun carefully slowed us down, feeding us with information and stories and gently built the expectation of what we were about to see.

In a short few hundred yards I could not believe how many species we had encountered – yellow rattle, germander speedwell, eyebright, pignut, cow parsley, the various buttercups, heath bedstraw, water forget-me-not, red and white clovers, zig-zag clover, sorrel, yarrow , birds-foot trefoil, pineapple weed, great plantain, lady’s smock, meadow vetch and eyebright. These were some I remember.

We also encountered a family of wheatears, obliging us by flitting back and forward between fence-posts and the parallel dry-stone wall.

Insects too: we had a close look at a green-veined white butterfly before Shaun, with a deft turn of speed, captured a small-heath butterfly in his collecting jar.

My knowledge of the emerald-green pot-bellied beetle continues to grow, as today we found their eggs on the underside of dock leaves. It was too windy for the adult insects, explained Shaun – they would have blown off and would climb back up later.

And to the climax of our walk. A few more species for our list –  in the meadow were some stunning wood cranesbill and a few ox-eye daisies, as well as buttercups, pignut and yellow rattle.

The sea of movement of thousands of flower in the gusty wind was an amazing sight. Photos cannot capture it – perhaps I should have found out how to work the video on my new camera! If you get the chance over the next couple of week go to Barrowburn – you’ll not be disappointed. And if you get caught in a heavy shower as we did at the end of our viewing, there’s a very handy tea-room to dry off in.

Pedometer: 2,250 (cumulative 53,160)

Let the sun shine

Walk five is our half-way point. Time to get immersed in the festival – so we have booked into a B + B for a couple of nights. A full English with locally sourced ingredients , including Rothbury prize-winning sausage and Maggie’s home-made bread, awaits us tomorrow morning. But first we have to get provisioned to tackle Simonside.

Our first disappointment of the week – Rothbury is very quiet on Wednesday afternoon – so we have to stock up at the Co-op. Good though the Co-op is, our tastebuds were anticipating a Rothbury Bakery pie. The substitute Melton Mowbray pie and pre-packed sarnie in the car park at Simonside did not have that local touch we had hoped for.

A minibus takes us on a very short ride to Lordenshaws car park. No time today to examine the cup and ring markings and the hill-fort, as we start on the ascent to Beacon Crag. On the way, we take a diversion through the heather to visit the Beacon Solar Observatory. This is situated 318 metres above sea level on a wide flat platform, with commanding views from the Cheviots past Rothbury and on to the coast at Tynemouth.

In the middle of the platform is a large standing stone, containing a hole 1.67 metres long which aligns with the setting sun over Yanspeth Law, 22km away in the Cheviots on the summer solstice. A shaft of light from the sunrise at Tynemouth, 44km way, almost but not quite shines to the end of the hole on the winter solstice. The existence of this solar observatory lends credence to the idea that Simonside is some sort of sacred mountain.

We rejoin the path and our walk leader, Jon, explains how this recently laid surface was constructed by National Park rangers and volunteers to make a safe path which counters the natural and man-made erosion that was scarring the hillside. We admire the craftsmanship and wonder at the man-hours that have gone into this work.

As we ascend to Dove Crag the 360 degree views become even more wonderful. There is a perfect clear view of the sunlight glinting on the coast.

We next meet up with a solitary feral goat who has been living at the top of Simonside for 3 or 4 years now. How did he get here? And who puts the lights on the Christmas tree at this remote spot every year? I suspect it is something to do with the Duegar.

We have been climbing for some time now and face a hairy descent scrambling down the hillside. Doug, one of the volunteer back-markers, keeps us calm and shows us how to treat it as if it were a staircase. We make it safely to the bottom – but our knees are beginning to protest.

Back on the easier slope towards the forest we are able to watch a deer bobbing all the way up the hillside from near where we had started the walk – its coat red in the last of the evening sunlight. It reaches cover, as we do the same – heading down through the woods back to our cars.

Pedometer: 7,991 (cumulative 50,919)

In search of barn owls

Tuesday’s evening walk began in Netherton first school, with the amusing sight of about 30 adults “perched” on seats designed for smaller bottoms. Russell, head National Park Ranger in the North, began by giving us an insight into the barn-owl project which had been encouraging and monitoring the spread of barn owls firstly in the Coquet valley, and latterly in the Rede and Ingram valleys. For more on the project have a look at the National Park website.

I had been keenly watching the progress of this project from the comfort of my office, which I share with the estate officer, Colin, who is heavily involved in getting webcams inside some of the owl boxes. This season has had its teething troubles but we have still managed to watch some interesting owl behaviour!

Another good site for live action is that of the Barn Owl Trust. Their cameras can be found here.

The walk proper took us from Netherton via Elilaw to Biddlleston, returning by the lonnen – a wonderful circular route of just under 5 miles. On the way we were invited inside a barn. Some of us caught a glimpse of a barn-owl inside, but most did not. Never mind. We picked up another walker at this point, as we were joined by Sam the labrador who followed us for the next three miles before one of the walks volunteers took him back home.

A very pleasant evening walk in the late sunshine, and then as the light dropped it was prime time to see the owls. Unfortunately they did not come out to play, so instead we enjoyed watching the hares running around the fields

The non-appearance of the owls gives us a reason to come back and do the walk again – perhaps the numbers of people had scared the owls off and we will have more luck on our own. And when we do revisit I’ll make sure there is time to visit the legendary Star in Netherton, which has appeared in every edition of CAMRA’s good beer guide!

Pedometer:9,817 (cumulative 42,918)

Wild in the country

If you want to begin identifying wild flowers find yourself an expert and head for the hedgerows and meadows. Such an expert is Shaun, National Park Ranger, who will enthuse you with his passion for his subject and fill your head with knowledge.

Shaun exhorted us to learn some of the common names first and to absorb some of the lore surrounding our native species - “planting” the flowers in our minds. Names such as eggs and bacon, silverweed and jack-in-bed-by-noon seem designed for us to remember.

And the stories – some simple, some outlandish – all helped us understand why Shaun enjoys his work so much. We had the origin of forget-me-not as Shaun spoke the dying words  – in dodgy German - of a knight in full body-armour drowning in a river passing the flower to his true-love. We had an illustration, fresh from the hedge, of how the dandelion’s leaves looked like lion’s teeth (dente du lion). And we were advised that lady’s mantle was used for treating ladies complaints (“like husbands?” asked one of the ladies present). Shaun also had a cure for sagging bosoms…. but we must move on.

The well-attended walk from Rothbury, along the Coquet and up to Tosson lime-kiln was themed on wild-flowers, but we also learned about different species of bee and their special relationship with wild-flowers. Take a close look inside a fox-glove to see how smaller insects are deterred from robbing the pollen destined for bees to distribute. I also saw my first emerald-green pot-bellied beetles, whose lava cause the many tiny holes to be found on dock-leaves. I can also sex them – it’s the female that has the pot-belly.

Up at Tosson lime-kiln, after admiring the ferns inside the kiln, we had a close look at yellow-rattle in a small meadow area that the National Park are establishing.

Time flew on this walk. I for one, would not have minded spending a few days getting into more depth with our local wild-flowers. But, for now, I can at least identify a couple of dozen species and share some of this knowledge with others. Thanks Shaun!

Pedometer: 10,329 (cumulative 33,101)

On the trail of St.Oswald

Monday morning found us on a coach from Rothbury to Wheldon Bridge to walk a stretch of St.Oswald's Way, a long distance walking route which links St.Cuthbert's Way at Holy Island to Heavenfield on the Hadrian's Wall Trail.

So who was St.Oswald then? Well, king of Northumbria no less. This was in the early 7th century and he played a major part in bringing Christianity to the area. He was born about 604 a.d. and converted to Christianity after the battle of Heavenfield about 633. Oswald gave Lindisfarne (Holy Island) to the Irish bishop Aiden. He died in battle against the Mercians in about 642. History lesson over. The tea room at Heavenfield is very good though.

We got a good sighting of a fox on our drive into Rothbury, and I knew my luck was in when I caught the flash of a kingfisher over the Coquet, minutes out of Wheldon Bridge.

Today's walk was a combination of country roads, footpaths over meadows (where we had a short standoff with some cows and calves) and finishing along a disused railway track. Not a demanding walk - largely flat, and in some very lush countryside. We got into discussion about the many types of grasses - helped by one of our company who was able to identify the varieties for us. Yorkshire Fog was Alison's favourite!

Martin, in his debut role as walks leader, kept us well informed and encouraged us in a game of "spot the pillbox" - the pillboxes being remnants of the WW2 Coquet defence line. A mixed group of walkers included a couple who had won the walk and 2 nights B + B in Rothbury at the Birmingham Outdoor Show, and Dorothy, who is in training for a trek to Annapurna in October.

We had been "severe weather-warned" by Radio Newcastle of thunderstorms and torrential rain, so were all prepared for the worst. However, we had our sarnies in glorious sunshine in the middle of a meadow and timed it nicely to get back into Rothbury before the rain. A cup of coffee in Harley's Tea Room went down a treat.

On the way home it absolutely stotted it down - forked lightening, flooded roads, the lot! Let's hope the sun shines on the righteous again tomorrow. I'll ask St.Os to look out for us.

Pedometer:  16,053 steps (cumulative 22,772)

I found my thrill…… on Blaeberry Hill

Six o’clock on a warm summer’s night saw an intrepid group assembling outside the National Park Centre to take part in the inaugural walk of the first Rothbury Walking Festival. Our leader Jon, from Shepherd’s Walks, welcomed us and told us how the festival had come about. He was genuinely excited at the prospect of the week ahead – with over 300 bookings already, and more still coming in.

Tonight’s walk was the Rothbury Carriageway – a gentle introduction to the festival.

A sharp ascent out of the village up Gravelly Bank soon had us wondering about that word “gentle”. Jon promised us that most of the pain would be at the start, and the developing views were adequate compensation for the pull on my under-performing thigh-muscles.

We took a few breath breaks as Jon described the development of Rothbury and the latest additions to its townscape, and then gave us a run through of the shepherd’s year as we stopped at Gimmerknowe (roughly translated, if I was listening properly, as the lambing hill).

The paths so far had been tarmac or firm surfaces. Time to head up the hill on rougher, but still manageable terrain, to join the carriageway. We were now in Lord Armstrong’s country – how would Rothbury have developed without Lord A? The carriageway is a circular high-level route which Armstrong constructed so that his guests at Cragside could drive around (no, not in their 4 by 4s) and view the surrounding landscape.

And what a landscape! Our vantage point gave a preview of the walks for the coming week – Alwinton, the Cheviots, Simonside – all were set out in a wonderful panorama.

At this point the Grey Bombshell said why don’t you take a set of 360 degree pictures with your fancy new camera? I had to admit that I had not got far enough in the user manual to even know where to start. In fact I was just discovering the trick of turning my camera back on after the handy power-saving thingy insisted on turning it off.

The carriageway was a comfortable walk. It should be – the Queen uses the same red locally-quarried stone out front at her place in London.

High above Rothbury we stopped for the final viewpoint – according to Jon, the best view of the village – and who could disagree?

We then scrambled down Blaeberry Hill, where the contrasting greens of the dark heather, the fresh emerging bracken and the low-lying blaeberries took our minds off the toll extracted from our wobbling knee joints. And then, suddenly, we were back in the centre of Rothbury – a real surprise as we had been in the hills only ten minutes earlier.

Pedometer: 6719 steps

Stepping out

There's only 5 days 12 hours and 23 minutes to go to the Walking Festival according to the official website so it's about time we started the sweep. The prize will be a decent bottle or a bumper box of chocs. Your challenge is to guess the number of steps I take on nine walks over 7 days of walking. The walks I am doing feature St.Oswald, a holy stone, lots of birds, a carriage, a sacred mountain, two walks with the Shaun Ranger and one with the Coquetdale Community Archaeology Group.

To enter send a comment to this blogpost, with your name and number of steps. Closing date is Tuesday 16th June. Good luck!