The Desert of the North: A Guide to the Way of the Spirit

While the coastal routes of Northumberland offer the comfort of the horizon, the Way of the Spirit (part of the Northern Saints Trails) is an invitation to the interior.

Starting in the rugged frontier village of Bellingham and striking south, this route explores the “Desert” experience—a core monastic tradition where the wild, lonely places are seen not as empty, but as overflowing with the divine.

For the ChurchMouse reader, this is a journey into the “White Martyrdom.” It is a landscape of bone-deep silence, where the wind through the heather is the only congregation and the ancient wells offer a cold, clear bridge to the 7th century.

The Soul of the Wilderness: The North Tyne Sanctuary

The journey begins in Bellingham, a village that served for centuries as a “Sanctuary Town.”

In the medieval period, if a man committed a crime of passion, he could find safety here under the protection of St. Cuthbert. That sense of refuge still lingers in the very stone of the place.

The Tangible Experience: The Never-Freezing Well

Before you shoulder your pack, you must visit St Cuthbert’s Well (or Cuddy’s Well).

The Sight: A simple stone basin tucked away, where water has pulsed from the earth since before the Conquest.
The Sensation: The water remains at a constant temperature. In the biting “Beast from the East” winters of Northumberland, when the Tyne itself turns to ice, this well remains liquid. It is a physical manifestation of a faith that refuses to grow cold.
The Ritual: Splash your face with the water. The shock of the cold is a “sensory reset,” a boundary marker between the world of noise and the world of the Spirit.

The Route: From the Vaults to the High Moors

1. Departure: The Fireproof Faith of St Cuthbert’s

Begin at St Cuthbert’s Church, Bellingham. This building is a marvel of “defensive architecture.” Look up at the stone-vaulted roof—it is one of the heaviest and most unique in England, built entirely of stone to prevent Scottish Raiders from burning it down.

Philosophical Note: Here, the theology is literal. The church isn’t just a place of prayer; it is a fortress. It reminds the pilgrim that the Spirit is a protector in times of siege.

2. The Ascent: Hareshaw and the High Shield

As you climb out of the valley, the lush riverside gives way to the “High Shield.” This is the entry into the Northumberland National Park.

The Experience: This is where the route earns its name. As the trees thin out and the heather takes over, the scale of the landscape becomes humbling. You are walking the “Empty Quarter” of England.
The Challenge: The path is often lost to the moss. Navigation here requires a sharp eye and a steady heart. This “getting lost” is part of the pilgrimage—it forces you to stop looking at your feet and start looking at the world around you.

3. Wark: The Capital of the Wild

The trail eventually drops back down to the village of Wark. Once the seat of the “Lords of Tyndale,” it now feels like a village at the end of the world.

The Mote Hill: Pause at the ancient earthworks. They are the ghost-prints of a castle long gone. Standing here, you feel the “Thinness” of time—the realization that empires fall, but the river and the spirit remain.

A Practical Visitor’s Guide

Feature	Detail
The Distance	12 miles (Bellingham to Wark).
The Physical Toll	High. Expect boggy ground (the “Northumbrian Moss”) even in summer.
The Spiritual Highlight	The “Silence of the Shire”—the section between Houxty and Wark where you may not see another soul for hours.
Where to Refuel	The Riverdale Hall in Bellingham for a hearty pre-walk breakfast, or the Battlesteads in Wark for a sustainably sourced “Pilgrim’s Feast” at the end.

The Philosophy of the Desert

In the 7th century, the monks of the North didn’t just want to build churches; they wanted to find the “Desert.”

In the Middle East, this was sand; in Northumberland, it was the moors. To walk the Way of the Spirit is to participate in this tradition of seeking God in the “marginalia” of the map.

Standing on the ridge above Bellingham, looking out over miles of uninhabited hills, you realize that the Northern Saints weren’t fleeing the world—they were getting a better view of it.