Posted:  Thursday 25 June 2009

North East Associates
Simonside Hills Walk
- 23rd June -

Find the forest car park.  This was the first task of the day.  Eventually all did.

It was back to the natural beauty of Coquetdale in Northumberland for our June walk.

Looking north over Coquetdale to the Cheviots

Here our focus was the most distinctive feature in the area, the Simonside Hills to the south of Rothbury.  These rocky outcrops along a ridge are unusual in the typically rolling Cheviot Hills.
Bright sunshine stayed with us, clouds closing in towards the end.

Over forty Associates met up in the forest, at about 200 metres elevation, and set off in the usual two groups.

The longer walkers - and please don't forget the photographer!

The “short” walk of five miles, led by Ged Downey, was also the "lower" walk – reaching about 350 metres at the foot of Simonside itself where we stopped for refreshments.


The approach to Simonside

There they are

From here we were able to watch some of the “long walk volunteers” on the final leg of their scramble to the summit at nearly 430 metres.

The ascent

The summit - and the "Grey Stone"

Spot the less intrepid, and note the "Grey Stone"


They're still behind us, we think

Folks were up there taking pictures of us down here, who were taking pictures . . .

From this high point Steve Bowyer led the group along the ridge on a slow descent to the east to complete their 6½ miles.

Walking the ridge

Back to the other group - they had reached their high point - who then also descended, through woodland on forestry tracks and paths, back to the rendezvous point.  We didn't meet any sheep today!

These hard crags, left after the ice-age of 15,000 years ago, are home to many summit cairns - their use is a mystery.  A bronze-age cemetery in the forest is home to dozens of cairns also, the dead consumed by fire and buried in urns.

Some local folklore includes tales of the Duergar of Simonside. The Duergar, a race of grim and scowling dwarves, were said to have lived in these hills where they tempted lost and weary travellers to their doom. ‘The Duergar’s coat was made out of a lamb’s skin, his trousers and shoes of moleskin, and his hat of green moss, decorated with a tail feather from a cock-pheasant.’ One lost young man found what he thought was a welcoming hearth but the Duergar, whose home it was, challenged him to put one of its gate-posts into the fire.  Luckily daybreak came not a moment too soon . . . . ‘As soon as the cock had crowed the dwarf disappeared, and with him the hut and the fire.  The sky in the east was turning grey, and by its grey light he saw that he was sitting on a big grey stone. But it was the topmost stone of a dark rugged precipice. Had he leaned over to the left to reach the gate-post, as the dwarf had challenged him to do, he would have fallen down the cliff and killed himself.’

The usual pub lunch followed, again at The Three Wheat Heads at Thropton in the valley below.

How many Associates does it take to eat a pizza?  More would have been welcome.


ph  25/06/2009