Pennine Way (North to South) 2024 – Day 1

11th May 2024: Kirk Yetholm to Trows – 15.5 miles

I’m sitting on my bed at the end of the first day’s walking and I really don’t want to write up the journal for today, but I know if I don’t I’ll regret it down the line. I have a pretty good library of long walk journals, and what will probably be my final Pennine Way deserves a place of honour amongst the others. However, I feel tired, sore and I have a cracking headache and all I really want to do is have a sleep.

My alarm woke me at 4am and I must have been deep asleep, because I had no idea what the sound was for a few moments. I had a quick breakfast and then repacked my bag. Last night I’d decided that it was going to be a warm day, so I put my bladder in the fridge (which meant emptying my pack) and put a couple of partially filled bottles of squash in the freezer. I filled the squash bottles in the morning, hoping they’d stay cold for most of the day.

Roger was his usual 10 minutes early and by 5am we were joining the M6 heading north. At Thelwall we thought we were being pulled over by a police car, but he was actually more interested in the BMW who was hogging lane 3, so we had a little titter about that. We stopped at Tebay services for bacon butties and a coffee, which Roger promptly manged to spill all down his nice white top.

We arrived at Forest View about 8.30 and I quickly found Oliver, handed over my bag, and selected my evening meal (Spanish baked chicken thighs) and shared some words of encouragement with a couple of guys who were setting out for the first leg of their final day. They were catching the shuttle later too, so we said out farewells and I headed out.

We arrived in Kirk Yetholm at about 9.20 and I got booted up while watching at least a dozen walkers, in various groups, head out along the road out of the village. The road I would be using in a few minutes. My heart sank a little bit, I hadn’t banked on sharing this walk with so many other people. I just couldn’t imagine they were all doing the Pennine Way.

I did stop writing the journal at this point, and had a little nap before tea, which helped reduce the fatigue but not what I’m pretty sure is a dehydration headache.

Anyway, back to Kirk Yetholm. It was surprisingly warm in the village and not a breath of wind stirred the trees. I got Rog to take a couple of ‘setting out’ pictures of me in front of the Border Hotel, but I’ll be honest, I just wanted to get going. I said my farewell and thanks to my brother, hefted my pack on, and set out along the road, to try and chase down all the people who’d left ahead of me.

After much internal debate and about 30 more miles of test walks, I’d finally decided to use the Salomon boots for this walk. They would provide more sole support and they’d not given me any more foot pain, so they were given the green light. I set out in baselayer, Craghopper shirt, Montane Terra Pants and some brand new Darn Tough cushioned socks.

I quickly reeled in the first group of four as they struggled up the hill out of  Kirk Yetholm, they were a mixed group with an old couple and a younger couple. I said my hellos as I passed them, but didn’t stop to talk. I passed the second group of four, all lads this time, on the other side of the hill, as we approached the little car park and the turn off for the high route to White Law. They were chatting amongst themselves so I didn’t have a chance to talk to them either.

I crossed the bridge over the little burn and began the first climb of the day. There are four distinct climbs this morning, as you can see from the elevation profile at the bottom of this post. However, I never really felt like I stopped climbing for the next four hours, the little descent and almost non-existent flat bits were just minor pauses in the relentless height gain.

I knew I had to pace myself today, although I’m feeling fairly fit, I’ve not managed to include much height gain in the 500 training miles I’ve put in so far this year. I passed another group of 3 who were taking a breather on the grassy slope beyond the burn and gained a bit more height before stopping, breathless by a large boulder with two older guys sitting on it. We said hellos and we had a chat. They were both from Scotland and they said they were doing the St. Cuthbert’s Way, as were all the other people I’d just passed on the way up. I heaved a huge internal sigh of relief! Their path turned left in just a few yards, we could even see the finger post and sure enough, the group of three walked past, said their hellos and turned off left.

After catching my breath I pushed on, with only a solo lady (without a backpack) and a guy walking his dog, ahead of me. The dog walker was coming down and the lady shot off up the hill. I was alone.

The heat was stifling by this time and I’d rolled my sleeves most of the way down to protect my arms from getting sunburnt. I slowed my pace and plodded out the ascent. I kept an eye on my heart rate and when it got above 160 I would take a quick breather and let it drop back a bit. Each time I paused I would go a little bit lightheaded and this worried me, I’ve never really experienced this feeling before, not with such regularity. Roger and I had been discussing the family history of blood pressure on the way up, and I visualised myself collapsing with either a heart attack or stroke and gradually expiring on the hill. I figured there could be worse ways to go! To take my mind off my pounding heart and thoughts of impending death, I put my ear buds in and switched on an audiobook. I took several more rests over the next couple of miles. If there was a handy rock or stile, I’d remove my pack and take 5.

I’d written out a route card for the day’s walk. In order to ensure I didn’t overdo it, trying to get to the pick up point too early, or too late. I picked a few obvious waypoints and set a target time to reach them. If I stuck to them rigidly I would have had about 45 minutes in hand at the end of the day. I soon realised I was falling slightly behind, but I certainly didn’t feel like pushing any harder, so I kept taking little breaks and plodded slowly.

I’ve definitely not had enough ‘pack on back’ time this year and pretty soon my shoulders were complaining about the weight they were being asked to support. The pack wasn’t even at full weight, and when I stopped it was as much to give my shoulders a break as it was to reduce my heart rate.

I met the lower path about 10 minutes behind schedule and I groaned slightly at the sight of the climb up to the Schil. This was the third of the four main climbs and it looked immense from this vantage point. I slogged it out though and rewarded myself with a lunch break on the top. There was a wonderful cooling breeze now that I was higher and I stopped for 20 minutes or so, finishing off one of the bottles of squash, which was cool, but not as cold as I would have liked. The mini sausage rolls I’d packed were awful, bland and tasteless, so I ate my Tunnocks Caramel Wafers and some Jelly Babies. From the Schil I could just about make out the refuge shelter beneath Auchope, and of course I could see the huge, daunting, final big climb of the morning (although it was now just after noon). I girded my loins and pushed on. I passed an old couple in a hollow, enjoying their lunch just before I reached the shelter, where I took another break.

I’d allowed an hour for the section between the refuge hut and the top of the climb. I knew this was going to be the toughest part of the day, and possibly of the whole walk. I plodded it out, taking plenty of pauses and when I reached a large rock about half way up I stopped to chat to a guy who was sitting on it. He was waiting for his three companions, who we could see making their way tentatively down the steep slope above. They were on the last leg of their Pennine Way, which they’d been doing in stages over weekends. Once my heart rate dropped suitably I wished him luck and pushed on. I was soon at the top, passing the huge cairn at Auchope, and the along the paving to meet the fence and gate at the junction of paths. My route plan told me I didn’t have time to divert to the Cheviot but I took a break on the stile step in the fence. It was only just in time, that I noticed a couple of lads coming down from the Cheviot and wanting to use the stile. I made my apologies and let them through. They had huge packs on, one of them had two packs, one on the front and one on his back! They headed off towards Byrness and then a couple of minutes later, came back and headed for Auchope. They looked somewhat embarrassed and I sympathised with them, having made the navigational error in front of a witness.

I manged to lose the rubber end on one of my ear buds here, I searched in the mud and grass at my feet for 10 minutes, but it was gone and the ear bud won’t stay in my ear without it. I was a bit annoyed!

It was pretty much all downhill from here on, and I picked up the pace along the flags, heading for the trig point at King’s Seat. I passed a couple of fell runners who said hello and then I stepped off the path to let another walker come past. He completely ignored me, didn’t even make eye contact. I cannot fathom that sort of behaviour, all it takes is a nod, he didn’t even need to speak, just bizarre.

The climb up to Windy Gyle was annoying, mainly because at one point I thought I’d finished, only to find it was a false summit and I still had another quarter of a mile and some height to gain. As I reached the summit, I met four guys, one of whom I recognised from Forest View this morning. They were walking south to north of course and they were heading down for the pickup too. We all said hello and I said I was going to visit the trig point and I’d see them later. I gave them a 10 minute start, as I didn’t really want to walk down with them, and then followed.

Windy Gyle was windy of course but as I descended the wind dropped and the temperature rose. I could see the guys ahead of me but I kept the gap. The descent wasn’t as steep as I was expecting, although I imagine I’ll have a different opinion on it in the morning when I have to climb back up it.

I finished the last of the water in my bladder as I walked down to the buildings at Trows, so I stopped and collected some water in my Sawyer squeeze bag, planning to filter it and have something cold to drink while I waited for the pickup.

I caught the four guys at Trows and we all made a bee line for the burn running beside the little car park where our pickup would arrive. I filtered and drank the water I’d collected and then Laura arrived to collect us all. The four lads were now wading in the river, so I and another solo walker who’d arrived earlier, had to wait while they dried feet and replaced boots.

The drive back was along a pretty atrocious road, pock marked along its length by massive potholes. Laura drove really carefully though and the lads in the back of the minibus didn’t get bounced about at all. Fortunately, I’d manage to call shotgun and I chatted with Laura as she drove us back to Forest View.

We arrived about 6pm and there was a little bit of faffing and admin before I got my keys and manged to haul myself up the stairs to my room. I dropped all the gear and grabbed my spare clothes and headed for the shower, just down the corridor, but just for my use.

Out of the shower I collapsed on the bed and felt utterly drained. And so we arrive back at the start of this post.

In the end I managed a short nap before going down for tea. It was held in a communal dining room and I shared a table with Nigel, the other solo walker, who’s just about competed backpacking the route, and a family of three. We chatted amiably for an hour or so while we were served food and I really enjoyed some of the stories Nigel related. He regularly goes hot tenting in Maine during the winter and volunteers for the Coast Guard.

I got back in my room about 9pm and any thought of finishing the journal was long gone. It was all I could do to ring home and then fall asleep. I was out for the count by 10pm and I’ve only just finished writing this up at the end of Day 2.

Video Summary

Map (High Route)