I returned Friday from my seven-day hike on England's Coast to Coast Path -- a route cobbled together from existing paths, bridle trails, country roads, and faintly discernible right-of-ways by hiker Alfred Wainwright in 1972.
The path is still not officially recognized, apparently, by whomever recognizes paths. Therefore, it is poorly (or not at all) marked as it passes through national parks, but is quite clearly marked elsewhere, in areas where the business brought in by hikers is happily welcomed.
As mentioned in an earlier post, I completed only the western half of the total route, from St. Bees on the Irish Sea to Kirkby Stephen, just shy of the Pennine range and Yorkshire beyond. My seven days could be broken into three distinct forms of terrain.
1. Day 1, crossing the coastal plain. A fairly flat hike, with a climb, not particularly necessary, over an odd, isolated peak named "Dent," thrown in for the sake of variety.
2. Days 2-5, crossing the fells and dales of the Lake District, from Ennerdale Bridge to Shap. Each day offered at least one ascent and descent -- varying in difficulty -- before reaching the night's lodging. For a couple of stretches, alternative and more difficult routes were offered. These I declined. The fells are beautiful, lonely, and at times a bit foggy. I ran into frequent groups of hikers -- many of them teenagers-- on only one stretch, on day 2, between Ennerdale Bridge and Rosthwaite. This leg of the path lies in a popular area in the Lake District, and presents a number of hiking and backpacking opportunities into higher and more remote locations. The dales, where I slept at night, were much-visited tourist areas. Grasmere, the largest of these towns, is famous for its associations with the poet Wordsworth.
3. Days 6 and 7, in historic Westmorland. These were relaxing days of hiking through rural England -- across meadows and over moorland, and along narrow country lanes -- beginning in Shap and ending in Kirkby Stephen.
Hiking in England today probably varies little from hiking in the same area sixty years ago, with the modern addition of GPS and wi-fi. The people are friendly in the same way as English people appear friendly in old movies. Everyone greets you as you pass. Older folks are eager to tell you stories. Teenagers smile, look you in the eye, and wave. They even speak to you in complete sentences. (!) In fact -- I actually witnessed English teenagers cheerfully eating meals and walking with their families without looking sullen and without rolling their eyes!
Both the fells and the lowlands are home to far more sheep than humans. The land is green beyond the imagination of today's Californians. (A local told me with amusement how excited a group of Californians had been to witness rainfall.) And yet, although weather forecasts before leaving home had been dire, in seven days of hiking I walked in significant rainfall for a total of only one hour on one day. Somehow, rural England maintains a welcome balance between the modern world and the values and landscapes of past generations.
It was a great walk, and I'm homesick for England already. I may well go back another time and finish the eastern half of the walk through Yorkshire to the North Sea. I certainly will go back and hike again somewhere in Britain.
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