Dog walkers, runners and psychos...

Sunshine on Grange prom

I inherited my love for walking from my dad.  He never needed an excuse to walk and neither do I. Walking was his 'thing' and it's also mine. It never really occured to me that some people might find it odd to go out for a walk on your own when you don't have a dog, or aren't clad in lycra and cluitching a water bottle, but then last year I was asked to judge a podcast comeptition and one of the entrants focused on how they felt a little odd 'just going for a walk'.

The title of the blog comes from my friend Rachel, who used it in a Facebook post after she'd been on a morning walk. I know she was joking, but it got me thinking...

...And then I was invited to review the book 'Do Walk' by Libby DeLana - Libby goes for a meditative walk every morning at 5am; the book is a reflection on those walks, and it's made me reflect on my own morning walks.

I never used to go for a 'morning walk' until 'Lockdown 1' curtailed my work travel, and now I don't know what I'd do without it. In fact we recently went on hols to Scotland - we had an amazing time walking, cycling, swimming and kayaking but, after we got home I was feeling antsy and I didn't know why. We'd had fun, I didn't mind being home and I was quite happy to get back to work, but I just wasn't settled.

A lovely bike ride to Port Logan

Kayaking - so much easier without the water...

It wasn't until we headed for Coniston Water on Bank Holiday Monday that it all fell into place. After going for a lacklustre swim I left Steve to head off for a longer paddle in the kayak while I headed off up into the Blawith Fells, and then I realised - despite having loads of fun, I'd not had my morning walk and I really missed it. Suddenly I was alone with my thoughts again (despite the large crowds on the water, the fells were pretty quiet) and I began to feel so much better. Nothing against Steve at all - I love going for walks with him - I just needed some alone time.

Alone again...

In her book, Libby explores this, and it's a fascinating read although, being from New England, some of her winter walks are a lot more extreme than mine, plus I only ever walk for around 40 minutes whereas she heads off on some pretty hefty hikes. I love the part where she talks about really seeing things on your walk and quotes a friend as saying "you never see anyone running through an art gallery" - I'm pretty good at slowing down on my walks, so that made me smile.

She also talks a lot about the solitude of the walks and that has had me pondering too, especially since lockdown restrictions have eased. I find I am torn between the part of me that says it's selfish to want my beautiful morning walks through the woods all to myself, and the part that truly resents seeing other people on 'my' walk.

And here's another question - is 'Good Morning' compulsory? My working life requires me to talk to people all day, so I savour my solo morning walks and specifically take less popular routes. If I do meet someone else and they offer a 'good morning' I will smile and return the greeting - but there's one gentleman on my walk who, if I don't reply loudly enough, will stop in his tracks and shout 'GOOD MORNING!" at me until I reply in a manner that satisfies him.

It's mine...all mine!

I've seen some really sharp comments on social media recently with folks getting angry when others share pictures of their favourite quiet spot, thus 'ruining it'. Wordsworth thought that only the 'right sort of people' should come to visit the Lake District - but who gets to determine what the 'right sort of people' are? (I don't have a complete answer to that, but I'll kick off with people who know how to park properly, close a gate and take their litter home, for starters.) 

The 'right sort of people' on my morning walk would be those who slip past quietly, in their own little world, and definitley not the ones who shout at me but, for them, the 'right sort of people' could be the person that stops to chat a while. Who's to say which is right?

My favourite view from my morning walk

As well as meaningful insights and reflections the book also has lots of practical tips too - very handy for those new to walking or needing a bit of inspiration. I can also vouch for the fact that, as with most things, it goes splendidly with a spot of sunshine and a big mug of tea.

You can find the book at thedobook.co and it really is a rather lovely read, full of great quotes and interesting photos.

You can find me in Eggerslack Woods most mornings. I'm also full of great quotes, but best left alone at that time of day. And please don't shout 'good morning' at me either. Thank you. 😀

Touching the Gin

A blog inspired by Joe Simpson's book, but with less blood and more gin.

As pretty much all of you will be aware, I am currently off the fells and nursing a broken foot.  I don't even have a god story to go with it - I was spring cleaning and fell downstairs when I was looking for the feather duster.  The best part is, it turns out the feather duster was upstairs all along.  Anyhoo...

Being incapacitated for a couple of weeks and now being mobile but slow and wobbly has given me time to reflect on all the teeny tiny things about hiking that I have been taking for granted but can now no longer do.  I like to think of myself as someone who has always pondered the smaller details, but there's a lot I have missed.

Also, although this is a light and cheery blog, these events have totally driven home to me issues around access to the outdoors that I had not previously considered.  That's a topic I am not even remotely qualified to tackle, but if you're interested in learning more about that then follow Debbie North, she's the accessibility champion for Julia Bradbury's The Outdoor Guide.

Right, back to the list of things I have missed...

1. Carrying things - for the first two weeks I was totally reliant on my crutches and couldn't even carry a cup of tea.  I repurposed my rucksack for a lot of the carrying and using flasks for hot drinks, but a G&T simply does not taste the same out of a flask.

2.  Pulling on a fresh pair of walking socks - who knew socks were so complicated?  I can just about do them on my own now - on the plus side I had to invest in some very snazzy long socks to go under my aircast.  Whaddya think?

3. The comforting feeling of a good pair of walking boots - I *love* my boots but it's going to be a good 6 weeks or so before I can wear them again.  Or at least wear both of them.  I love the safe and secure feeling of lacing them up and knowing I'm good to go!

4.  Walking without pain - a small thing but worth mentioning.  Walking has always been my 'thing' - not just on the fells but everywhere.  I have walked through towns and cities whenever I can - you always learn so much more about a place that way.  Now that every single step is at best uncomfortable (when I walk in the house) and at worst really painful (after 100 yards or so) I truly miss the ease with which I walked everywhere without giving it a second thought.

5. The sound of grass on my boots.  I *love* this sound.  I posted this short video on my FB page a month or so ago but hardly anyone paid it any attention so I assume it's just me.  There's a very specific sound long grass makes when it bounces off my boots and I love it!

(I *always* get my boots from the fab folks at Keswick Boot Company)

6.  Stiles.  Oh how I have bitched and moaned about stiles at the end of a long hike when all I want is a gate, but no more!  I realise a) how lucky I am to be able to hop over a stile and b) how utterly prohibitive they are if you are less mobile.

7.  Going out alone.  This whole 'new normal' has taken a bit of getting used to for me.  In the past my job saw me travelling the length and breadth of the country and now I never need to leave the house for work.  To restore some sanity I had created a 'fake commute' where each morning and evening I would go for a walk to top and tail my working day - it truly was a sanity saver.  Thing is, for now, I am not allowed out on my own.  I voluntarily handed in my crutches at the earliest opportunity so as not to get overly reliant on them and to get my foot moving again as soon as possible (Doc said he was OK with it if I was), but it's still early days and I need a walking pole on one arm and a bloke on the other.  Don't get me wrong, Steve is indeed a wonderful man, but I do miss going out on my own.

8.  The people I meet - during my fake commute I've chatted to plenty of people and really enjoyed getting to know a few 'regulars' that I'd bump into most mornings. Obviously I've no way of letting them know I'm out of action, and I wonder if they have even noticed I've vanished, but I do miss the quick chats and making friends with assorted dogs.

9.  Being invisible - this one was a big shock to me.  I've often heard people say that they feel invisible in wheelchairs but, for me, it has been the exact opposite.  In order to cover a reasonable distance at a reasonable speed, we gratefully accepted the loan of a wheelchair from a lovely friend.  This enabled us to get all the way from Hest Bank to Morecambe Jetty and back over the weekend.  Never have I been so stared at!  We made the journey with a combo of me walking a little then Steve pushing me in the chair.  When I was in the chair I was constantly stared at and was quite taken aback that no-one thought it a particularly rude thing to do.  Mind you, Steve wasn't to be entirely trusted with wheelchair duty...

10.  Chocolate biscuits!  Honestly - you thought lockdown was bad! I'm barely burning any calories at the moment so am on a strict 'no snacks' diet.  Oh how I miss a long day yomping over the fells with a rucksack full of sarnies and chocolate, and coming home to a huge pizza or plate of pasta, knowing that I have burned it all off during the day.  I've replaced my favourite chocolate digestive with raw carrots, which I quite enjoy, but it's not the same.  Thanks to the lovely folks at Shed 1, who sent me this as a get well pressie, I can still enjoy my gin ration in the evenings!  Cheers!

And if gin is your thing - check out our Gin, Cake and Rucksacks book where I explore the gin distilleries of Cumbria with a complete stranger.  I'm amazed we didn't break anything then, to be honest!

Click here to order

Pilgrim's Way to Lindisfarne

Recently I was lucky enough to land a small piece of work in Berwick-upon-Tweed, so I made the most of it and headed over early for a spot of exploring.  I really rather like Berwick, here are a few reasons why...

It's a place crammed full of history and amazing views, and there's plenty to keep a history nerd occupied for a while.

Just down the coast from Berwick is Lindisfarne.  We'd visited there a few years ago (actually 9 years ago, where did the time go?!) when we pootled over on Delores; this time I was on my own and instead of driving over, I wanted to walk over, following the Pilgrim's Way.  The weather and tides looked to be perfect and, although I would be alone, I knew I wouldn't be on my own as there were bound to be others taking advantage of the conditions.  I was right.

I scoured the internet for tips but couldn't seem to find all the information I needed about the crosing in one place - how long did it take?  What was the best footwear? etc. so, having done the walk, both ways, I thought I'd share my insights.

1.  Check the tide times.
2. CHECK THE TIDE TIMES - seriously, I cannot stress this enough.  I live on Morecambe Bay so am well awae of the dangers of heading out across tidal marshes.

3. Getting there and parking.  We'd visited before so I know about the huge car park on the mainland right next to the causeway.  This car park is now CLOSED.  No, I do not know why.  It's blocked off with huge concrete blocks.  To be honest, as I'd arrived not knowing this I parked on the roadside - not ideal and space is VERY limited, but I was determined to cross.  A better solution would probably be to take the bus from Berwick.  Bus times etc. are here.
4.  How far is it?  I plotted the route in Viewranger and it came out as 2.79 miles one way, so double that if you're planning to walk back.
5.  Boots or feet?  This is a tricky one.  The going is soft, very soft, with lots of paddling. I found that on the way out I wore my boots for the first, muddier, part because, as I quickly learned, boots grip a LOT better than bare feet.  In the middle, paddling tends to take over for a while, so I took my boots off for the second half. I did the reverse on the way back.

6.  What else will I need?  I found a walking pole incredibly useful.  It really is very slippery out there and I have a rubbish sense of balance anyway, so really needed the pole.
7. What's the walk really like?  It's a great walk, though more challenging than it first appears.  Soft mud is tiring.  It's also (depending on the time of year) cold in the paddling bits.  There's one stretch of hard sand with lots of broken shells, which I tackled in bare feet, but my feet were so cold that I didn't notice the pain so much.  There's also a channel to cross - having watched the folks ahead of me wade through a narrow part that went up to their thighs, I opted for a wider section, which was shallower, and only went in up to my knees.  These channels will, of course, shift with the tides, but it's a useful rule of thumb.

8.  How long will it take?  When I was researching it I read a post from someone who claimed that he and his wife had made the crosing in 35 minutes - that's pretty impressive stuff!  I walked briskly, pausing only to take a few photos, and it took me a shade over an hour to get across.
9.  Is there anywhere to rest?  Not during the walk, no.  There's nowhere to sit and the refuges dotted along the route are there for emergencies only, plus they are tricky to haul yourself up into.  There is a nice bench at the far side though, where you can wolf down some tea and cake before heading back.  Or you could get the bus back, or walk along the causeway, just be aware that there's no pavement and it can get pretty busy.

10.  How to time it.  I figured it would take me about an hour.  I'd also read that it wasn't wise to set out the moment the causeway opens as the channel at the far side can still be quite deep.  I set off an hour before low tide, so was on the island for low tide and walking back just as it turned, and I didn't encounter any problems at all, conditions were identical in both directions.
11. Is it easy to follow the route?  Yes, very easy.  From the mainland, walk along the causeway (watch for the cars, there's not a lot of space and they whiz past!) and over the first bridge, you will easily see the tall poles marking the route all the way across; just stick close to them and you'll be fine.

12.  Is it worth it?  Yes. I was properly muddy and soggy by the end, but it's a great walk with loads of amazing photo opportunities.  Just make sure you CHECK THE TIDE TIMES before you go.  (Sorry, did I already mention that?)  It's really quite something to be out there, in the middle of the walk, with nothing else around you, knowing that you're following in the footsteps of thousands of folks who didn't have GoreTex boots.  The road only opened in 1954, before then, this was the only way over.  Well, this and boats.

If you have any other questions, please just ask - it really was a great walk and I'd be happy to help with any other info if you need it.

Meanwhile - we haven't written any books about Northumberland (yet!) but we have written LOADS of books about Cumbria.  You can buy them all right HERE.  We will be happy to sign them and they make the perfect gift for lovers of Cumbria.  Honest they do.

Not all walks are amazing...

You know me, I'm generally a happy camper who sees the best in everything but whichever way you look at it, today's walk was a bit crap.  The only good thing to say about it is that it was better than being stuck indoors. Marginally.

We planned it as a short Sunday stroll; nothing too taxing, nothing too high but, unfortunately, nothing went right...

First up we got a bit lost looking for the start of the walk, never a good sign. Then all the nice pristine paths turned out to be barely discernable boggy fields.

Then there were the blocked rights of way. Three in total (yes, I'm reporting them) which resulted in us criss-crossing one particularly boggy field 3 times before then having to cross an even boggier one.

Thankfully one of Gods Lunch Huts (aka a church) was open so we could enjoy our sarnies in comfort - always a perk of a low level walk.

Next we met the grumpy farmer - you know the type, zero signs to direct you through the farm but ready to leap out at you from behind the cow shed to point out you're going the wrong way.

Shortly after that was "the path less travelled" - a clearly marked and signposted footpath right through the middle of 4ft high brambles.

Despite all of that, and the obvious near continuous bickering, we still tried to stick to our route before we both eventually agreed to call it a day when our route disappeared into a swamp next to a river.

We diverted to the slightly longer but undoubtably quicker road route just in time to get soaked by a passing downpour just before we reached the car.

On the bright side, these are the hikes that we will laugh and tell stories about in the future. Just maybe not right now...

BEFORE YOU GO:  We do all the had work for you so you never have to end up on a walk like that - our books have loads of lovely routes, clear instructions, FAB facts and amazing pictures.  Click here to find out more & place your order.

Three Tiny Toddles

Much as I love colossal hikes and epic long days on the fells, there is also much joy to be had in a short (under 2 miles) walk.  As you may know I've founded a project called #WalkOneStop aimed at encouraging folks to walk just a short distance - as Tesco would say "Every little helps" - and even a short walk can make a big difference.

These past few days we've scampered around 3 gorgeous short walks in tucked away corners of the county and we only saw other people on one of them (the second one) and even then, on a sunny Bank Holiday Saturday, we only saw a few and still had acres of room to park.

Winster Wanderings

Winster is roughly between Kendal and Windermere and is an idyllic Lake District hamlet comprised a few stone houses and a fine pub - The Brown Horse.  Obviously, even with a short walk, it pays to err on the side of caution when it comes to carbo-loading etc, so just to be on the safe side we wolfed down a hearty lunch before we set off - all freshly made and properly tasty.

They do rooms too - and after such a hearty lunch I was sorely tempted to take a bit of a nap but Steve insisted we should head outdoors.  I offered to watch and shout directions from the patio outside the room, but he was having none of it!

In the middle of a beautiful dry spell we picked the only drizzly day but the upside was that everything looked green and fresh and lush.

Looking back to Brown Horse Inn in the distance

Near the end of the walk was a rather lovely church - I always fancied a proper country wedding and this place would be perfect.

The route:

Hidden Away High Dam

Ever wondered where the locals go on a busy bank holiday weekend?  High Dam is tucked away up behind Stott Park Bobbin Mill and it's basically a smaller, quieter version of Tarn Hows.  There's some roadside parking or a pay & display car park with a path leading up through the woods to the reservoir.

If you want to tag on a little extra then follow the path over to Stott Park Heights for one of the finest views of Windermere.

The route:

Haverthwaite Mystery Passage

We found this one purely by fluke.  As we were driving from Backbarrow to Haverthwaite Steve spotted a tiny tunnel under the railway line leading up into the woods, so obviously we had to explore.  We parked by the river then headed up.

The circular route is 1 1/2 miles and marked with white topped posts which were easy enough to follow.  There was a viewpoint marked on the map but in such a dense woodland we didn't expect much and then we popped out to see this - proof that the best views don't always require the hardest hike.

Cumbria has something to suit every hiking ability so please don't be put off by the big fells - take a chance on a random signpost through a woodland and you may just discover a magical new view.

The route:

For more awesome views of Cumbria check out Steve's new book - out June 15th and available to pre-order right now via Amazon - or, if you wait until June you can order it directly from us and I'll even persuade him to sign it too.  😀