Day 17, 10 June 2007, Byrness to Kirk Yetholm

05:30 hrs: Departed from Byrness in light rain and thick mist. 200yards from the YHA, began the steep climb through the trees on the rocky path up Byrness Hill, scrambling over the crags at the top. Visibility about 20 yards in thick, low cloud. Deadly quiet, not even the birds were up and the only faint sound the dripping of water from the trees and our laboured breathing. Walking poles slipping on the wet stones…don’t look up because the route is steep and the Way hidden by overhanging branches. No real path, only the deep, muddy footprints of our predecessors and polished rock from their boots.

40 minutes later we’re at the top. Visibility still hasn’t improved and we’re already into walking on a compass bearing. Deep bog over to Houx Hill and we find a fence-line to confirm our navigation. Margarette’s sense of humour shines through and she leaves a note for the others telling them we’ve just had our first tea stop of the day and they should get a move on.

Wet and cold, but at the beginning of our long day, we plod on, changing direction every few yards to find a dryer, sounder route. Then off to my left, a splash and a cry. Margarette is flat out, up to the waist in bog and leaning forward to hold some firmer tufts of marsh grass. Off comes her pack, to slow down her slippage into the bog then slowly she is dragged to firmer ground, soaked through and a little shaken. Survival bag and space blanket were ready, but she decided to move to firmer ground and keep moving in the hope of staying warm that way. So far we’ve covered about 2.5 miles with 24 to go and discuss turning back. But not for long. Margarette is determined to continue and the poncho cape is keeping her warm enough for now.

The weather doesn’t improve all morning. We slog on, having short tea stops and trying to reduce the weight of our packs by drinking the extra liquids we’ve brought. Nick catches up with us and stays as far as the bothy at Yearning Saddle. At least his presence confirmed our navigation and his company reassuring if Margarette had got any colder. However the bothy lived up to its reputation and afforded a chance for a rest and some (relative) warmth. Whilst we were there, Peter, Tony and Ron also passed.

By early afternoon the cloud lifted a little. The many miles of paths laid by the National Trust were worth their weight in gold given the low visibility and boggy conditions. We caught up with Ron having a break, prior to his descent at Clennell Street and he cheered us up by saying some of the others were only a little way ahead. In moving forward, we met a party of three, one of whom was blind, coming South and starting their long day. Shortly after, Richard and Adele caught up on us and we walked on together for some time.

We four then caught Peter and Tony at King’s Seat, relaxed as usual and deciding to tackle the top of The Cheviot. Whilst we were gathered at King’s Seat we all had a moan about the weather (visibility was dropping again) but knew that by now we had not only broken the back of the longest day but were shortly to start the first descent.

Margarette and I rounded The Cheviot and had our final tea stop in the bothy just west of West Cairn Hill. Margarette was able to change into dry socks for some respite, despite still being otherwise soaked, even inside her boots. She was bearing up wonderfully. Once over the last major hill (The Schil, at 605 metres)

we took the low route towards Kirk Yetholm. Hilltop visibility was still effectively zero and we had only seen the Cheviots for about half an hour all day. Then, ascending towards us on the wooden boardwalk, were three younger walkers out for a day walk in t-shirts and shorts, proving there are madder people in the world than us! They in turn were followed by a party of four on a circular walk: they had completed the Pennine Way many years before and were just out for a ramble for the afternoon…in low visibility and light rain.

Eventually we reached Kirk Yetholm, just after 6 o’clock and 13 hours walking. No bands! Even better, Kenneth – our son – was there with a bottle of champagne and transport home. A pint in “The Border” pub then off to the SYHA to shower and change. However, later that evening we gathered in The Border for a celebratory dinner and a great time was had by all.