I carried on walking the train tracks and left Dawlish behind me. Beyond the whimsical, pretty views I had from my train journeys of the past, was a warren of caravan parks and hard tarmac that bruised my feet before I got the the crossing point of the River Exe – Starcross. It wasn’t the …
It’d been a long road. 630 miles long, give or take, but I knew that the end was within reach. I was creeping higher up the Southern Coast and zeroing in on Poole Harbour – my final destination. That morning I was also creeping up the side of Golden Cap too, though at times it …
Continue reading “South West Coast Path – Part 13 – The End”
I’m writing this from a little town in New Hampshire, USA after some serious hiking. I’ve stepped off the Appalachian Trail for a day and hitchhiked into town to resupply. That means to pick up some days of food before heading to the wilderness again. I’m also going to get a shower and do my …
Continue reading “AT Southbound (SOBO) Part 1 – Touchdown in the USA”
There is no snore like a tired hiker’s snore, and I was in the middle of a snore-storm. Routes to the the revered mountain of Katahdin had been closed until 15th June this year due to unusually bad weather, meaning that the hostel in sleepy Millinocket was filled to the rafters with hikers who had …
Day two of the official great adventure; Alice and I woke, got packed up and ready to start. We slung our packs on and started the 12 mile forest walk towards the official start of the 100 mile wilderness. No camping is allowed in Baxter aside from designated areas, so we absolutely had to clear …
Continue reading “AT Sobo Part 3 – Into the 100 Mile Wilderness”
The wilderness reminded me of the Hunger Games in places. People who had hiked strongly ahead in the beginning would be found stumbling on a pathway days later; tired and overwhelmed. They might have been brought up short by a broken water-filter and be sick from bad water, or have tripped and be nursing an …
Continue reading “AT Sobo Part 4 – The 100 Mile Pushes Us To Our Limits (already).”
Alice had gone; returned home to Cornwall. She had left early that morning with a sad smile and a wave from the back of the car as it pulled out of Shaw’s Hiker Hostel. I felt a rush of homesickness for Falmouth, for my family and friends. Alice had been so incredible to be with …
We emerge from NYC’s underground tunnels and link-fenced lots to the beautiful Hudson River, which rubs shoulders with the train tracks all the way from NY to Albany. The Hudson is an expanse of silvery-green calmness; huge for a river, or at least compared to any I’ve ever seen. The slick wide ribbon is peppered …
