Byrness to Kirk Yetholm (2 days)

I honestly don't know how George completed this leg in one day, I was in bed by 8pm, completely done in!
Though the route from Byrness to the mountain bothy maps out as 29km, Adam's watch gps totalled our day at 31km, and 1200m ascent, there's no way I would have been happy trying to tack on the final 11km to that.
We started out from our campsite around 8:30 on the 29th, following the river to Byrness itself, and then straight up a steep 200m climb into the Cheviots. After this effort the trail winds over the hills, summit after summit but mostly rising and falling only 30-80m. Though my photo climbing the first hill shows clear skies, the weather front raced up behind us, with a vicious wind and sharp drizzle.We bypassed the route that goes past the Roman fort ruins, but could see them quite clearly from the hillside, merely ridges in the grass. From very early we could spot the distant outline of The Cheviot, a long hump of a hill, highest summit of the region at 815m. It was both daunting and encouraging the way it's features slowly came into focus as we progressed towards it.
The next major climb is 2 steep sections of trail separated by a smooth but sharp ridge, up to Windy Gyle. Whether it was living up to its name, or if the cold front finally caught us properly, "Windy" proved accurate. As we traversed the steep slope I could feel my bag being tugged sideways, and every breath was snatched away making the air seem thin. It was a pertinent reminder that though this terrain seems tame compared to New Zealand mountains, it can be every bit as treacherous if the weather is against you.
From Windy Gyle the trail drops down to follow a ridge towards the now very apparent Cheviot, followed by yet another steep 200m climb. This took us to a point where desicions had to be made - do we make the 4km round trip to summit The Cheviot? Adam had already been (in January no less!) and I think was hurting pretty bad at this point. No mistake, so was I, but I can't just walk past something like that, it feels incomplete. So we split, Adam to head to the hut, and I to drop my pack and make the steady climb to the trig. We made arrangements for contact times, in case something went wrong, and I finally pulled out my windproof overtrou (I'd walked all day in shorts!), threw on an extra layer, and hungrily downed a porridge bar.
I will be the first to admit that I'm not a runner, but the feeling of being packless, and flying along the pavers, was impossible to resist. I made the summit and back in 40 minutes, part walking part jogging. While that's only a 6km/hr average speed, I'll admit I'm pretty chuffed with that, after already hiking nearly 28km. The final descent to the mountain shelter where we were to stay was an absolute killer. Sheer downhill that made my knees tremble with exhaustion at every step. Arriving at the simple bothy was a total relief - even though it was nothing more than four sturdy walls, a concrete floor, and benches on 3 sides. Blessings upon those who have gone before! Inside we found tea and coffee supplies, including powdered milk, and instantly made ourselves a brew (we had our own tea but the milk was a real bonus). I must remember to return one day with additional supplies for future hikers. Dinner was a simple meal of beans and packet mash potatoes, with extra cheese, and we only had energy for a couple of games of cards crashing into our sleeping bags.
The final day dawned uncertainly, with clouds and wind whipping over our exposed ridgeline. However the route remained fairly easy to follow, as long as we checked the map when farm tracks crossed our path. There is one major hill called the Schill, which we hauled ourselves over, and then it is basically downhill most of the way to Kirk Yetholm, passing old settlements, and then farmhouses, and one last very unwelcome climb over a saddle and down into the village itself. Officially completing the Pennine Way - I cannot express the feeling.
Who should we see as we approach the green, but George! A day ahead of us, and looking all the better for his night in a proper hotel bed, the bastard. It was lovely to catch up with him before he caught his bus onwards, especially as he regaled us with tales of his 48km day, due to taking a wrong path early on.
I'm now continuing on my own way from now, Adam got picked up by a friend and hour after George disappeared. I have no words to explain how grateful I am to have met Adam on that first day, atop Kinder Scout. You don't ever expect to just meet someone who you can then walk with for 400km, 17 days, and part as new-found friends.
The Way challenged me, in ways the previous 400km from London did not, and there were times when I definitely needed the support of another person. The Way also awed me in places, and it was nice to be able to turn to someone to share that moment.
I am, without a doubt, unbelievably lucky.

Steeper than it looks

All praises to those who laid the path...

...Even if it's being swallowed by the land in places

Very windy on Windy Gyle

Yellow arrow -  approx. Cheviot summit. Red arrow - approx. bothy location. Taken from summit of Windy Gyle.

Our luxury accomodations

Can't resist playing the ukulele in unlikely locations

A man went on the Pennine Way
To prove that he was tough
But cos he didn't plan ahead
So here he slept it rough!

Good morning!

Next stop: Kirk Yetholm!