Recently I unearthed a couple of sets of typed route instructions for sponsored walks I did at school in the late ’80s. I remember these being in the region of 20 miles, which I polished off fairly easily, which was nice because I was at a sporty school and was crap at most of those sports. I remember feeling slightly smug being one of the only kids with proper walking boots. I remember feeling less smug when my Dad was operating on my heels to pop the resultant blisters, a job he botched so much I still have rough skin there to remind me of those days.
In recent years, the vague memories of those days have set me wondering about these routes and they’ve achieved an almost mythical status in my head. Many is a time I’ve been out for a walk on the North Downs and felt a stirring of a distant memory or wondered if such and such a path were part of the original walks. Now this is all solved. Continue reading “Old Skool”
What little fitness had been instilled in my legs in Wales already felt like it was ebbing, and so it was time to top them up. The aim was simply to do a long walk and carry a decent load – and to have a bit of up and down. That ruled out staying my side of the river – it’s pancake flat here. I quickly hatched a plan whereby I’d catch the Tilbury ferry to Gravesend and do a big circular walk on the North Downs from there, finding somewhere to pitch up overnight. The sort of thing I’ve done many times before, usually when training for a bigger walk to come. Continue reading “Making it up as I go”
I’m no stranger to this particular patch of woodland on the North Downs. Numerous walks have been done through or alongside it, but always solo. This time though I had some company. Continue reading “Screech Wood”
I mulled over for ages trying to come up with a witty title for this post, but nothing seemed to work, so I’ve stuck with the factual.
The goal of this walk was actually quite simple – to walk from Erith, where I finished the London LOOP earlier this week, to Gravesend, where I start the next path – the Saxon Shore Way. I’m going to see if I can do this at the end of each of the local(ish) paths that I will be working my way through when I can’t get to the hills. Or at least for as long as I can be bothered to keep it up without getting silly. Continue reading “A 13 mile walk made a lot harder”
Thin tendrils of mist swirled around my feet in a vain attempt to escape the strengthening rays of the sun. Coupled with the alarming growth in the size of my feet as I trudged up the muddy field, it felt … Continue reading Mist and Mistakes