Solo Wild Camp //193 Miles, Hiking the Coast 2 Coast Path
July 2016//A Long Walk to Freedom//193 Miles completed, alone, yet alongside others. I walked myself back to me, in my most organic state - I was free. It rained for chunks (despite it being July), the wind blew, and I carried my life, my home in a bag, for two weeks, walking across the country, coast to coast. Some places were isolated and remote, others led me to a surrogate Australian family and even ended up spending a night with a female astronaut (who had been into actual space!).
0% training or prep, after all, it’s just walking.
Jan 2023//My oh my, what a walk it was crossing from one side of the UK to another, from St Beas down to Robin Hoods bay. Of course I look back on this chapter with mixed feelings - what an incredible feat it be to adventure in such a way, on my own hiking across England. But also - survival mode much, was I walking away into a new season or avoiding something else all along?
The previous autumn I’d split form my partner of 9 years. We’d been together since I was 17, renovated and built a home together, built lives around each other, our intials even spelt 'H.O.M.E' - but there was something unsettled inside of me. I was afraid. Our friends were getting married, having babies, I was anticipating that we would be next - which could have been lovely, just something inside me felt like a piece of me was missing. I’d been playing 'grown-up' for a while, my partner was almost a decade older than me. I'd longed to travel since some peers at college returned with photos of Thailand and the ‘one day visit South-East Asia’ seed was born. I began to feel that actually there might be some things I'd like to try outside of this dynamic but this was my life now, I was woven with another human.
There were discussions ‘go live your life, I'‘ll be here when you return’ which is could have been an option but it 'didn’t hit the spot. How would it be to share in the dreaming up of ideas and adventures, to be open to the different shapes life could take. I was in search of a different life without a clue what it would look like and I was terrified.
In 6 months I left the home we’d built, the relationship and my job. I borrowed some epuiptment, bought some cheap walking boots with less than 24 hours to wear them in and I set out on my first solo adventure and hike 193 miles from Coast to Coast (without any prior experience of wild camping or proper long distant hikes).
In hiking C2C I managed to raise £800 for charity which supported international aid work in Uganda. After the split I signed up to volunteer with a charity for three months. Part of the deal is that you need to fundraise so the walk was disgused to do just that, when in fact I felt like I was on a pilgrimage, walking myself back to me in my most organic, natural state.
The personal journey was priceless. Moving my body, reconnecting with nature, with myself, having everyday just one focus - to walk! The simplicity of this had me feeling more me pretty swiftly which allowed me to see how much I had become identified with whether it was the relationship or work.
I became aware of what I’ve now come to know as the felt sense, noticing energy being released from having something to eat or drink. Taking a break, removing the heavy pack to make some food or a hot drink and the nourishment received from creating the space to pause, to be present. It wasn’t always wholesome. There were plenty of times I’d mutter to myself questioning what on earth I was doing ‘you had to go make a fuss’. These grumbles were put aside upon reaching a peak, traded in for breathtaking views and the sense of real accomplishment. That voice in my head still lives there though we are in much more regular dialogue so it doesn’t feel like there is quite as much friction as there was. It has been foundational in the construction of the loving and nourishment rich relationship I have with myself now. Nature is an an incredible teacher, teaching us how to keep putting one foot in front of the other, even despite ‘bad weather’ or the storms in our lives. I learnt to become my our own cheer leader, cheering myself along.
Remains of Old Gang Smelting Mill
Most nights I had anxiety for company. Either thinking about the what creatures might join me in the night or whether there was anyone who would dare to open a lone tent and if such a human would frequent the hill or soft verge I had claimed. I got better at this. I remember the first few nights were spent just trying to make sure I didn't roll away as I hadn't set up on flat ground (top tip no.1). One night I found myself freaking out (these days I'd say it was more likely a panic attack but I hadn't validated my own feelings yet). I was feeling unsafe. In the the middle of no where and about through middle of the walk (pilgrimage), there were these old, crumbling ruins from an old mill. By this point I had got myself into a rhythm - wake up, eat, walk, eat, walk, eat, set up camp, sleep, repeat - but I was tired. I was sore and I still had a way to go. At this point I got spooked. I was beginning to worry that if someone ( a bad person ) was passing by ( like they do at night time ) then there would be nothing I could do to protect myself. Whatever creature I had painted in my mind, the one that would dare approach and unzip a lone tent at night, I was convinced they would be greeting me that night. This would be the end of me.... 
I had to rationalise my concern as there was literally noone else to turn to. I reminded myself where I was and that being in the middle of no where meant that it was unlikely anyone was around. Most people I’d met had been other walkers and generally friendly often offering food and commenting on the task lay ahead. And ultimately I agreed I was right, that there wasn't actually anything I could do to stop the imaginary beast but I could trust that from the outside I'm just a tent and who would unzip a tent in the middle of no where, in the night? My heartrate began to slow down as I pondered to myself 'perhaps I could be hypothetical 'beast'.
Eventually my mind settled and I nodded off. FYI I survived the night.
The night had drained me and the next day my mood was off. It rained. A lot. I got lost. I didn’t see anyone for hours. I was miserable and then began to mutter again to myself with a real sourness now. Eventually, I made it to civilisation I took shelter in a pub that wasn't quite open but let me in early to dry off, probably felt sorry, I was a bit of a state having spent a week in the wilderness with my own gremlins for company. I was so grateful for it. I sat on a table by the window, pulled out my journal and starred out at the rain as if in my very own melancholy music video. ‘What on earth did we decide to walk coast to coast for?!’ I was proper grumpy now and I had only myself to take it out on. The pub started to fill out for lunch, I was getting surrounded by ‘normal people’ I could now compare myself with.
There was a couple on the table near me, grey types, looked like they were in their late 60s or 70s, maybe more like 80s. They sat in silence. I remember watching them come in. They were showed to their table, tucked themselves in. After their order was taken, he read the paper and she stared out the window. The continued like this whilst they waited for the food to be served. They continued to eat in silence. I sensed they had grown distant. They may have been perfectly content but the scene looked beige.
I thought to myself ‘whatever happens we mustn’t become beige’
Seconds later a group of Australians entered the building. I had spotted them on a previous day and they were checking in to a room and spotted me, giving me a nod as us pilgrims do. It was obvious who was hiking the C2C path - I had my huge pack seated opposite me. They came over and straight away invited me to stay in their room. Although technically I wasn’t supposed to stay in the room, I was am welcome to use the shower, freshen up and I would be most welcome to the spare bed if I fancied it!!
It was already a huge stretch for the social anxs to even step over the threshold and sit alone in a pub. The comfort zone was expanding and I the thought of freshening up, having a shower, a bed even, it was like my prayers for safety were heard. I was going to bunk up with strangers - jee whizz - this is against everything that our parents taught us.
Angle Tarn
They were like angels from down under and I felt so looked after - which was exactly what I needed. We spoke all night of adventures, life, of their daughter who was often out adventuring. They explained how I reminded them of her and how they’d like to think others would be looking out for her so they do the same. They pointed me in the direction of where to freshen up I can still sense the hot water on my skin. We spoke for hours, enjoyed dinner together - this was humanity, loving kindness in action. They were an absolute blessing. I felt safe, connected and they also spoke about getting the bus for parts of the walk like they had done for parts of the camino and how the camino had much more people my age rather than C2C which appeared to be predominately people over 50 for some reason. OAPS love the lake district. I left the following morning felling refreshed and with a spring in my step a complete flip from 24 hours before. Additionally I felt more confident to speak to others and a few days later I met a female astronaut, doing the hike, who invited me to take the spare bed, (most people stay in B&Bs instead of wild camping like I was). A female astronaut - who had been into actual space - let me shack up with her in. I’d mentioned my interaction with the Australian family I'd made days before. They stumbled in shortly after and another meal was shared with our additional family member. Honestly I was relieved as we'd spent most of the day at this pub. We had spoken for a while, light was fading and I wasn't feeling motivated to carry my pack and head out in search of somewhere to set up camp. There was one condition - she insisted we watch the 'soccer' as the Euros were on that year. Here's to the metaphor of walking - just putting one foot infront of the other. 
