August 05, Selkirk to Melrose

 Bulletin!  Before reading any further, please go back to the end/bottom of the August 03, from Hawick to Selkirk post.  A very important photograph has been added!

Today's walk marked the end of the Borders Abbeys Way, and I can say with complete honesty that I am walked out!  At least for now!  The section was more demanding than I thought it would be, but it ended perfectly: along the river Tweed.  To recap: walks completed this summer were the Dales Way, the Cumbria Way (minus Keswick to Caldwell, because let us not take credit where credit is not due!), the Herriot Way, and the Borders Abbey Way, as well as many other long walks in the environs.

Outside Selkirk: 

Water source masquerading as a cairn:

A scene:

Wool from self shedding sheep.  Now, Lucy, the lady who conducted the Bairnkine Farm Tour, told me that the sheep rub up against the wires to scratch themselves.  The thing is that you wouldn't get much of a scratch from those smooth, rounded wires.

The silver lining:

only it looks yellow in the picture.

Chickens:

Alpacas, baby ones, two of them:

Alpacae?

Manure and straw. lots of it, biding its time while becoming fertilizer:

When you see The Swing Bridge, you know you are close to Melrose, but note:  you do not cross the bridge unless you are going elsewhere:

The River Tweed, again!

Maybe you already saw Melrose Abbey, at least what is left of it, but that was so yesterday!

This is, I swear, Dolly Parton, 14 years old.  She is deaf, poor thing:

Upon arriving in town at around 11:45, I headed to the ice cream parlour and had a chocolate ice cream to celebrate the completion of the BAW.  It was delicious.  Then I went to the hotel just across the square.  I knew it was ridiculously early to check in, but my suitcase had arrived, so at least I would be able to get out of my boots and into sneakers. To my surprise, I was given access to my room.  I took a shower and washed my hair, changed my pants and invaded the "extra clothes" packing cube.  After getting dressed, I felt as if I could pass for a normal human being what without the boots and the gaiters and all.  I am kind of surprised that I managed these four walks (minus that one stage) and all the extra ones, which, I will now confess, were risky because they are not national trails and the gpx data are not as reliable.  It does feel good, yes, very good, "to have made it!"  And OMG, have I been lucky with the weather!   Still, for the final three days, I will keep the rain gear with me at all times.

August 04, Sellirk and Bowhill

 Maybe you read about the Three teenagers who used Google Maps to navigate the Howe Sound Crest Trail in British Columbia; it did not go well, to say the least.  Well, let me tell you that even the apps devoted to hiking sometimes get it wrong.  This is nowhere near as serious, but it is an example.  This morning I set out on a four mile (more or less) walk to Bowhill Estate and Gardens using a route generated by Komoot.  It looked fab and I had really been looking forward to this excursion.  I was not very far into the walk when the lovely river path did not seem right.  In fact, it became treacherous.  I knew it had to go up, away from the river, but up was deadly.  Then I spied some metal rings on a cement block and thought, "I can do that," and so I did, but the path was just as deadly.  "I am not Alex Honnold, (again) I cannot do this, it is too steep, too narrow, too slippery, too rocky; I am going back to see if I missed something.  Four times I searched for a trail going up, but nada, so I went back and took the road.  (The conclusion to this story, and the connection to Google Maps will come later!)

I don't know if it was an A road or a B road, but it had no shoulder; it was awful.  At one point there was a parallel path next to the road.  Oh, joy!  That ended and there was a field. 

Sheep in the field:

Two horses conversing: 

The gate could be unlocked, so I went in and headed for the other end, not knowing if there would be an exit.  There was not.  There was a wire fence topped with barbed wire.  

This is how you deal.  Before you climb over the fence, you prepare:

But you have to be very careful removing the garment so as not to tear the fabric.  I did get a small tear in my rain pants.  Oh, it was raining only not very hard.

Bowhill House and Gardens is rated the #1 attraction for Selkirk, so I had to go!  It is grand and the lady who did the tour—they do not let you wander around freely, nor do they let you take photos—was animated and engaging.  I honestly do not care about the tenth duke of where ever or about the family gossip, but there was one guy who died in a hunting accident: he must have tripped or something, and his gun went off, hit him in the shoulder, and he died from loss of blood.  But anyway, the furniture and fabrics, and wall coverings, and what not  were gorgeous.  The family acquired a fair amount of stuff from France because at the time of the French Revolution, French nobility had to do some big time selling to raise funds. In the end, it did not do them much good, or your loss is my gain.)

There are many beautiful walks through the estate, but I only had time to do a short one around a little lake:

See the lake through the trees?

It was full of lily pads in some parts:

When the tour was over, I had to figure how to get back.  I decided to do the path in reverse and take my chances.  I could always turn around and figure out how to get to a road.  Come what may I would make it back before dark!

The path started out very nicely:

Then it became like this:

Then it passed through some water treatment facility where there was a major leak and the path was flooded, flooded enough to reach the top of my boots.  Unpleasant.

After that I spied an major construction thing going on.  Many expletives were uttered, but aha! there was a special way through for pedestrians.  Baruch haShem!

There was a stint on the road, which eventually led to a path above the river.  THIS is the path I wanted to be on when I set out. I was eager and scared to see how this would resolve.  Oh, but wait, there was another hazard!  This damn bridge:

Wet, round logs, no railing.  I looked at this structure for some minutes.  Then I did the only sensible thing: I sat down and pulled myself across, even managing not to drop my poles.  

Mon Dieu!  Will the obstacles never end?  Eventually I reached the point where that lower path was supposed to lead to the upper path.  Komoot got it wrong!  Yes, there was a connection but it was not a straight line as the app showed, it was a big Z. The app showed a zig, but the path was a zig and then a zag and finally another zig!! I was extremely nervous following this zigzagzig (looks like a word for the Spelling Bee) down not knowing where it would come out, but it did meet the lower path just not where or how the app indicated.  I was so relieved!  

Yes I was, little fellow!

Back at the inn, so to speak, I took off my gaiters, boots, poncho, raincoat and rain pants, put on sneakers, and headed up the hill a mile to see Halliwell House.  Unlike Bowhill Estate and gardens, this is a very little house. It got its name from Mr Halliwell, a wig maker, who owned a bunch of houses in the area in the early 19th century, but the major industries were iron mongering:

May I help you, Madam?

textiles, and shoe making.  Back in medieval times, the area around Selkirk was the only settlement around that ahd an abundant supply of animal hides and the oak bark needed for tan them into leather, so shoe making was a natural development.  the last shoemaker, John Guthrie, retired in 1975.

It was interesting to read about factors that affected various industries:  changes in fashion and living trends, inventions that made traditional techniques obsolete or that increased the ability to increase supply, and make items more cheaply, where the railway lines ran and then the effect when the railway lines closed and transportation was by road.  But, you know, I cannot stop thinking about Mr. Halliwell, who made wigs.....who were the customers?

August 03, Hawick to Selkirk

 Finally it rained; it did not pour, but you had to suit up anyway.  One of the challenges is figuring out what to wear under your raincoat.  If you aren't insulated and become cold, you are in a bad way because while it is raining you can't take everything off to add a layer (or two).  I went with a wind shirt under the raincoat.  After several hours, this was too much, so take off poncho, take off waist pack, take off back pack, take off raincoat, take off wind shirt.  The gaiters and rain pants stay on.  Then, put on rain coat, put on waist pack, put on back pack, put on poncho.  By about noon, the rain stopped...for the day.

Most of the walk was kind of a slog.  Granted, nothing looks as good in the rain as it does in sunlight, but the scenery was partly moors and partly vast farm tracts, and lots of roads in between.

Topless trees!

¡Qué raro!  (How odd!)

I am trying to think of a descriptive for this!

There are always sheep!

When you are walking for quite some time and it feels brown and grey, it is truly exciting to see a patch of purple, which is, apparently, rosebay willow herb—I did that thing with the camera on Google to find out what this flower is, having seen quite a bit of it up to now:

Here it is up close:

It really brightens even the greyest day.

More sheep

Part of the route went through a golf course.  Walking on a golf course is the BEST!  Hard surface, short grass, very very nice!

And, on a rainy day at 8:00 a.m., you do not have to worry about flying golf balls, or if you do, I didn't.

Just as nice, is walking through a pine forest:

Not so nice is walking for long stretches on asphalt:

The stage was about 14 miles, and when I reached Selkirk, I realized that my hotel was a mile away!  (There is really only one place to stay in the town itself, and there must have been a reason why I did not book it.)  I was given early check-in for the princely fee of £15, but not until 1:00.  Since I arrived too early—I had really pushed hard—I walked to the grocery at the far end of town to pick up some supplies, which, normally I don't like to do; I prefer to change to sneakers and exchange the pack for a small backpack, but I wanted to make sure I could get a decent loaf of bread!  Get there at 3:00 and likely you are out of luck.  

The room at the hotel is quite nice, and, I was told, I have a garden view:

I was really excited when the guy told me there was a frig in the room.  The frig can hold exactly two bottles of water. That punctured my balloon.  I was pretty much done for the day, but it was only 2:00 when I had "gotten sorted," and I really had wanted to see the Sir Walter Scott Courtroom, so I schlepped the mile there and saw it.  It was a room with placards and the depiction of a hearing:

You can see Sir Walter presiding:

I had not known that he was a judge, but he was, for thirty years, and it was a job that paid the bills, but of course, he loved to write.  Scott 's poetry and novels were very popular in Europe, especially. Not a great fan was Charles Dickens.  He felt that Scott's glorification of war in Marmion, e.g., was influential in the South's wanting to go to war (as in the Civil War).  Now that is something to ponder.  A lot of this exhibit echoed the stories told at Abbotsford—see post from Melrose—which is just ten miles, or so, from here. 

One interesting "fact:" Some of the people who passed through Sir Walter 's court room became models for characters in his novels.

Scott is not the only famous citizen with ties to Selkirk.  

Right near the bridge:

Wee, sleekit, cowran, tim'rous beastie, O, what a panic's in thy breastie! 

But those lines were written in Ayershire, in 1875, not in Selkirk, so no plaque for that poem here!

Juy 02, Hawick (Hoyk)

When I headed out this morning on a circular walk, I had low expectations because Hawick is such a cheerless town, but surprisingly, the walk was excellent.  Hills, and fields, and, well, just splendid countryside.  It was quiet.  It was very quiet.  Even the scenery was quiet.

For the first while, my doubts were justified because there was lots of tall grass: to push through:

and I thought, nobody walks here!  What am I doing?  But a path did appear, and although there were certainly a few difficulties, most was fairly straight forward.

Here I was not sure if I was on the correct side of the wall:

It turned out that I was.

Can you see how quiet it was?

There were vast areas where you did not see even a cow or a sheep

But then, off in the distance there were cows (on the left)  AND sheep (on the right)

Even these birds (everything that is black is a bird) attacking the grain did not caw!  At least not at the moment.  They were too busy looting!

After coming down from the hills, I met a horse with way too long bangs:

And had to scale a gate:

If I do say so myself, I am quite good at scaling gates of various kinds.

In the afternoon I went to the park where there was a guy singing and lots of people enjoying the performance and the unusually fine weather:

How much the dogs enjoyed it is not so clear:

I thought this was a likeness of Robert Burns.  It wasn't.  It is James Thomson, who wrote, inter alia, "Rule, Britania" (but that was in the 18th C)!

.  

Aug 01, Jedburgh to Hawick

Let me just start by saying that the place where I am staying, a very nice place for the most part, feeds off the wi-fi from the restaurant next door, so you can only get a sort of signal in the dining room.  That is just cheap!  No doubt the owner has a separate connection.  And once we are on the topic, the shower is a mere dribble and the toilet is totally weird, some sort of organic kind of toilet that makes a real racket when you flush it.  But after you mount thee huge flights of stairs, you are in a nice room.  Oh, and the proprietress would not let me check in a minute before 3:00 p.m.  even though "early check-in" was confirmed when I made the reservation, so for an hour and a half, I hung out in the next-door-restaurant where they let me connect to their wi-fi, so I was all set with the zany password when I got here.  

I headed out at 5:15 in preparation of a long day with the detour and that whole river business to worry about. I was so focused on that that I don't even remember a lot about the walk.  It was not exceptional.  What can I say?  There was the large area of ferns that were taller than I am and which were wet, so I got pretty soaked after about 5 minutes.

And there was much very tall grass, also wet:

 

Do you walk beside the field or through the field?

Beside the field.

After the very tall wet ferns and the tall wet grass, there were some less tall ferns, and since they were on the other side of the big hill, they, for whatever reason, were not wet.

I think that hill is a landmark, and no, it was not part of the route, but you do see it for a long time!:

Two walking surfaces merit attention.

One of my favorites:

Because I know that without it, the ground would be very very very boggy.

One I never experienced before:

It was fabric!  Pieces of cotton.  Millions and millions and millions of pieces of cotton. It was soft underfoot and so strange.

I met two pretty horses:

The critical point on the route, five and a half miles or so from Hawick, was Denholm: 

This is where the detour is and where the river path begins, or at least where it used to before the embankment eroded away causing the rather unpleasant detour.  As I got close to the bridge, I saw a woman who was in charge of a gas pump—a gas station with one pump and nothing else—so I asked her if she might give me some help.  She was most obliging.  We went over the detour and I asked her about the river path.  "It is gorgeous," she said.  "Near Hawick, is it precipitous?"  I asked.  "No!" I walk it all the time!  Hearing her say that, I wanted to sing!  Bob Marley will do it for me!

I asked this nice lady, whose name is Wendy, whether, per chance, she sold Magnums, you know, this being a gas station of sorts and all.  No, she did not.  "Before I head off, I am going to take off my jacket," I told her.  At this, she ran off and returned a minute later with a Magnum, for which she refused to accept payment.  

I thanked her profusely, not only for giving me an ice cream from her personal supply but for her advice about the river walk.  That segment turned out to be the best part of the day.

Be wary of what random people post!  As for the barbed wire that this person had to cross lest she fall in and drown:  anywhere where there was barbed wire, you could easily crawl under the wire below the barbed wire, but there was no need to escape a severe drop because there weren't any. 

A willow tree: 

The River Teviot, which is a lot like the River Tweed:

Bunches of birds going bonkers;

Hawick is not an attractive town.  In fact, it is rather depressing.  The only walking route that passes through is the Borders Abbeys Way, as opposed to some of the other stops where at least one other LDP (Long Distance Path) is on the route  In other words there is no catering to tourists here!  No cute little ice cream of chocolate shops with cutesy names.  But there is no derth of class B- supermarkets!