What’s Next? Continuing across the United Kingdom

Hiking across England and Scotland

“None could walk that Pennine Way without being improved in mind and body, inspired and invigorated and filled with the desire to explore every corner of this lovely island.”

Tom Stephenson, Daily Herald, 1935

Toward the Pennine Way

Where one moment or trail ends, another possibility opens up and begins. We have always believed that.

Having completed Wainwright’s Coast to Coast, we now found ourselves in the strange space between journeys. Behind us lay the crossing from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay – from the Irish Sea, across the Lake District, the Yorkshire Dales, and the North York Moors to the North Sea.  Amid which we rambled through constant rain, mud, the crowded trailheads,  and unique pub-side campsites while enjoying the kindness of strangers and navigating the realities of damaged backpacks and gear en route.  Regardless of the challenges, we had carried a pair of small stones from one coast to the other.

Ahead of us, at least in theory, lay the Pennine Way.

Tomorrow will be a day of travel rather than a day of hiking. From Robin Hood’s Bay, we will begin making our way by bus and train toward Manchester and then onward to Edale, the small Derbyshire village where the Pennine Way begins. If all goes according to plan, we will soon set out northward along one of Britain’s most famous long-distance paths, following the high spine of England through moors, dales, hills, and border country toward Scotland.

All of which feels both exciting and faintly ridiculous.

The Coast to Coast had been our introduction to long-distance walking in the UK, and it had already asked more of us than we expected. We had arrived in St Bees fresh from a transatlantic crossing on Queen Mary 2, carrying full packs and assuming that our years on the Trans Canada Trail and various European pilgrimages would prepare us well enough for what lay ahead. In some ways, they did. In other ways, the Coast to Coast reminded us that every trail has its own character, its own culture, and its own ways of both humbling and educating even experienced walkers.

The Pennine Way, by reputation, would be something different again.

Looking North

Before it was officially opened as a National Trail, the Pennine Way already existed as an idea: a route that invited people to see England differently, to follow the hills, to explore the country on foot, and to understand walking not merely as recreation but as a way of knowing a place. That idea has long appealed to us.

We had already crossed England once from west to east. Now, if the weather, our bodies, and our gear allowed, we hope to follow a different line northward. Rather than moving between two seas, the Pennine Way will lead us along ridges, moors, uplands, and old routes through the centre of the country. According to the guidebook, it promises fewer obvious comforts, more exposure, hopefully fewer hikers, and perhaps a deeper encounter with the landscapes that have always shaped the imagination of trekking in Britain.

But as we have recently been reminded, we should not romanticize too quickly. Trails are one thing in guidebooks, another thing underfoot. On paper, a route can appear clear, inspiring, and manageable. In practice, it becomes the accumulation of moments, weather, mud, crowds, closed cafés, swollen streams, broken gear, cancelled accommodations, and the arithmetic of how many kilometres remain before you can take off your shoes at the end of the day.

The Pennine Way may well improve us in mind, body and spirit - but first, it will require us to get there, begin, and see what kind of walkers we actually are after two weeks of rain, exertion, and adjustment on the Coast to Coast.

Plans, Not Certainties

Beyond the Pennine Way, our plans exist but become even less certain.

If we complete it in the time we hope, we will travel onward to Glasgow and begin the West Highland Way. From there, the route would dovetail naturally into the Great Glen Way, carrying us farther through Scotland from Fort William toward Inverness. On the map, it all looks wonderfully connected: one trail leading toward another, one train journey carrying us between trailheads, one long sequence of footpaths stitched across the United Kingdom.

In reality, we know it will depend on many things.

We will need good enough weather, or at least weather we can tolerate and get through. We will need Sean’s repaired backpack to keep holding together – or to find a replacement backpack. We will need our own bodies and minds to remain willing to keep going. We will need accommodation, campsites, and enough energy to keep making decisions day after day. We will also need to be honest with ourselves about whether continuing still feels like curiosity and adventure, or whether it is becoming momentum for momentum’s sake.

Our loose hope at the moment is to pick up a few extra days across the next set of stages and routes by walking some longer days when possible. If we manage that, we might have time at the end for one more trail before returning to Southampton to board Queen Mary 2 for the voyage back home across the Atlantic to New York. Perhaps that will mean the Speyside Way in Scotland. Perhaps it would mean travelling to Newcastle-upon-Tyne and walking Hadrian’s Wall Path. Perhaps it would mean neither and simply be days absorbed into time resting between trails.  At this point, each option is only a set of possibilities.

And perhaps that is for the best.

The Necessary Unknown

Long journeys require plans, but they also require a willingness to let those plans remain unfinished so that they can be shifted and adapted en route.  We had learned that lesson often enough on the Trans Canada Trail, where distances, weather, wildfire smoke, road conditions, ferry schedules, and our own abilities (or lack of) could reshape an itinerary in a moment. We had learned it on the Caminos as well, where one conversation, one injury, one storm, one closed albergue, or one unexpected incident could shift the rhythm of a walk entirely.  The UK has been and will continue to be no different.

For now, the only certainty was the next step. We have finished Wainwright’s Coast to Coast. We have a day of travel ahead of us without much of a break. And Edale waits somewhere beyond the next series of buses, trains, and decisions. The Pennine Way stands before us to show the UK in a different light.

Beyond this, we have little idea of what comes next – yet that uncertainty is part of the journey too.  Without it, life would not be much fun.

See you on the Trail!