Things we have learned
Introduction
If you’re looking for pearls of wisdom, then stop reading now. This is just a summary collection of thoughts and things Rich and I have learned, but you probably already know. It’s interesting how much they have crystallised in the months since our return, but the basic ideas haven’t altered. The answer to life, the universe and everything definitely isn’t here though (mostly because it’s forty-two, so it’s a day in the blog diary).
Fitter not falling apart
Maintenance is key
There are no ‘rest’ days
Walking is good
The right kit is crucial
Never look a gift horse in the mouth*
Not all kit is equal
It’s better to carry a tent and not need it, than carry a tent and need it
The UK is beautiful
The East of England is very deprived
There’s no place like home*
We have too much stuff
There was always the question of whether we would get fitter or fall to bits as our journey progressed. Pleased to say, fitter resoundingly triumphed and there was no falling apart (amazingly). I’d love to attribute this to great planning but really it was circumstance. The walk started on flatter, less challenging terrain with relatively ample accommodation, so we could pace ourselves accordingly and didn’t need to carry the tent. Also, the heatwave at the beginning necessitated good behaviours which endured throughout our adventure, which leads onto the next point.
The constraints imposed by the hot weather forced us to wash out our clothes and inspect our kit every night from the start. It also ensured that we checked each other regularly during the day. A further early episode with painful gums around an unerupted wisdom tooth mandated scrupulous dental hygiene. The ubiquitous tics guaranteed that our skin was a priority every evening. And once a week or so, we had the opportunity to go through everything and wash items like socks which don’t easily dry overnight. We were lucky to have been obliged to do this right at the start. If you’re using the same limited resources for ten weeks, whether that’s human, gear or clothing, then you can’t afford for anything to fail.
Only non-walking ones, or at least days when we didn’t walk to another destination. Our rest days were mostly consumed with major kit checks (sewing repairs, cleaning boots, sorting stuff), service washes and interminable planning and booking accommodation. The days themselves felt peculiarly restless, as we were keen to progress and had itchy feet almost immediately on arrival. Sometimes, we wanted and needed a break, but always we couldn’t wait to get started again.
Anyone who has ever attended my vascular clinics knows I’ve been saying this for years, but that doesn’t make it any less true. It’s also always helpful to practice what you preach. Human beings are bipedal animals optimised for walking. Modern living has made things easier, but it has rendered us less fit as a species. As we walked, we didn’t lose weight but we completely changed shape. Our waists became thinner (an independent risk factor for cardiovascular disease) and our legs slimmer yet more solid. When we came home, I went for a run and felt as if I had a strange, new body. I could run five miles with no difficulty, something I had not done since my twenties. Months later, we can still walk substantial distances without noticing, and do so as often as we can. Richard calls it our superpower.
We have been walking in Cumbria and elsewhere for over thirty years and most of our kit had been coming with us all that time, including our clothes. Modern gear is lighter, more adaptable and more comfortable; superior all round. It doesn’t have to be expensive: Tesco’s F&F microfibre briefs are cheaper and better than the well-known alternatives. Four pairs lasted me ten weeks and are still going strong. Shrink wrap window insulation makes the perfect lightweight polycarbonate footprint (groundsheet to us oldies) for a fraction of the price of a proprietary one – thanks Darren!
Heed experienced help and advice. We might have embraced Darren’s recommendation for the groundsheet, but we should have listened more closely to Yvonne. If we had, Rich would have brought gaiters and we would have carried a head torch right from the beginning, among other things. We very nearly didn’t buy walking poles, which would have been disastrous on the boggy Cape Wrath trail. As ‘purists’ (whatever that means), we even hesitated about accepting Yvonne’s incredible offer to roadie for us. Fortunately, sense prevailed: our trip, our rules.
*The gift horse phrase dates from the mid-1500s when horses were a valuable trading commodity. When someone bought a horse, they examined the teeth as a sign of general health (see above and ask anaesthetists about this). Checking the mouth on such a generous gift offended the donor and was unnecessary as it was free (allegedly, what did someone want if they gave you a horse?).
At the start of our preparation, I was a size 16, the UK’s most prevalent size. Rich was anything but, with his long legs and ultra-broad shoulders. Despite this, it was me who struggled to buy high spec clothing while he had no difficulties with the extensive men’s ranges. The spurious argument given by manufacturers is that outdoor pursuits are male dominated. They will be if women can’t actually find appropriate garments that fit. On the plus side, now I have some great kit. I wear it all the time because it is comfortable and has pockets. Unlike most women’s clothing.
#ThisGirlCan
That’s Richard’s quote and there is not a typo. I am hopelessly romantic about camping. Even though I’ve camped several times and more than half the experiences have been dreadful, I still imagine camping will be an inspiring back-to-nature adventure. Rich, on the other hand, remembers the midges, squeaky crash mats, odd-tasting dehydrated food, sleepless uncomfortable nights and always packing up the tent in the pouring rain. He is right.
Desolate, sophisticated, wild, cultivated, mountains, moorland and historic towns, the United Kingdom has everything, and it is all accessible. Daily, I still admire the leaves and the sky and spot birds, hares and deer when I’m out walking. I also worry about the future. The day we camped, we trudged through a shifting bog that had once been a footpath. Above this, the trees had been felled as part of the forestry management and it’s difficult to imagine that the two are not connected. Since our return, Rich attends Extinction Rebellion meetings and I have become vegetarian. We are custodians of this landscape; our duty is to protect it.
We walked through the suburbs of Glasgow and Hull and the rural far north of Scotland, but the East of England (Sutton Bridge, Boston, King’s Lynn) was the poorest area we visited. The inequality here is huge and never reported in the media. Traditionally included in news bulletins as part of ‘the South East’ as it shares the same weather, it is easy to forget that Norwich is north of Birmingham. The Eastern counties hoped their Brexit vote would make the government notice them. They were wrong.
By the end of our trip, we were desperate to get home. A different place every day for ten weeks is fascinating, but also overwhelming and we missed our family terribly. By the end, we wanted the trip to be over, however amazing it had been. Arriving home felt dislocating: we almost didn’t recognise it, but it was lovely to sleep in our own bed at last.
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* Lynam Frank Baum, better known as L. Frank Baum, was famous for writing The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, including this quote. He was a prolific author, producing thirteen further Oz books, plus forty-one other novels, eighty-three short stories, over two hundred poems and numerous scripts. His works imagined versions of television, laptops, augmented reality and mobile phones. His first book, however, was about rearing rare breed Hamburg chickens.
The thing that struck us when we arrived home was how much stuff we have. We are lucky to live in a large house, but it’s packed with things. Our aim is reduce, reuse and recycle rather than buy anything – probably easier for us than most as we both hate shopping.
In modern parlance, JFDI. I prefer Horace’s Latin though:
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carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero
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Seize the day, because you cannot trust the future.