This blog post is for those who are thinking about hiking the coast to coast and are wondering if it’s worth the effort…
You know I’m going to say absolutely is worth the effort. I had a very personally fulfilling time on the coast to coast, and believe it to be an excellent option for anyone looking for a long-distance hikewith meaning here in the UK – west to east, sea to sea, up and over, across the middle.
In order to give real value to that encouragement, please allow me to share some highlights from my experience doing the hike.
With my adventure journal series as my guide, here I offer my ten favourite coast to coast moments, in the order that they occurred during the two-week-long adventure. It was hard to choose… ten isn’t even one per day!
Ten Favourite Coast to Coast Moments
01 Playing in the Sea at St Bees
It was the very idea of dipping my toes in the sea on one side of the country, and hiking all the way over to dip my toes in the sea on the other side, which was the primary reason for wanting to hike the UK coast to coast. It would therefore be weird if I didn’t start my ten highlights post without mentioning playing in the see at St Bees.
This is the tradition of Wainwright’s coast to coast hike – along with choosing a small pebble to carry from west to east. It was a stunningly beautiful day (much nicer than it had been the day before), the best we could have hoped for in early October.
We paddled and splashed in the sea, with boots and socks off and trousers rolled up, in order that we may begin things properly. The water was very cold indeed, but it was fun none-the-less. You’ve got to start adventures with giggles, right?! I was very grateful I thought to carry my little Pacmat sit mat and my tiny travel towel in my day pack; perfect for moments just as this. And this moment was a pretty spot-on way to start the biggest hike of my life so far, easily a highlight.
02 Valley Path along Nannycatch Beck
The climb up, and descent down from, Dent Hill on the first day of our coast to coast hike was not to be underestimated. My knees and thighs were a bit stunned by the steepness of route down if I’m honest. But while it was abrupt and uneven, it was such a beautiful path, and was at least over quickly.
The highlight here, though, was the walk through the valley that followed, starting at Nannycatch Gate and heading along Nannycatch Beck, towards Ennerdale Bridge.
It might only have been day one, but even all this time later I would say that this winding path through the valley was one of my favourites of the whole hike. We strode along for a couple of miles alongside the beck, a really fabulous bit of walking, allowing us to stretch out our quads after that steep descent. I truly enjoyed the sheltered, quiet life of wandering with purpose along that path, it was every kind of beautiful.
03 Toadstools in Ennerdale Forest
Day two of our coast to coast hike started with a three-mile walk along the south shore of Ennerdale Water. What an absolutely stunning footpath that was. It had everything; the water, sometimes lapping right at our feet, hills towering above us all around, beautiful ancient woodland, rocky crags, and plenty of interest underfoot, too. Honestly, I would go back there just to hike around Ennerdale Water itself. In fact, I think I will, sometime – soon, I hope.
When we got to the western edge of the lake from Ennerdale Bridge, the water was completely flat. We were also blessed with a lovely sky, making the whole scene as perfect as it could have been that morning. It was hard to stop taking photographs and get the miles in.
Once we did get going, we found real variety of terrain. There was grass and mud, loose gravel and rocks, rooty woodland floor, a few boulders to get over, and even a bit of scrambling.
If the section through the valley along Nannycatch Beck mentioned above was my favourite path of day one, the path through ancient woodland at the eastern end of Ennerdale Water was my favourite of day two. It was just wondrous, a fairy tale mossy forest with little streams running across the path, dotted with perfectly formed toadstools. If I was a fairy, this is where I’d want to live.
04 Calf Crag, Gibson Knot and Helm Crag to Grasmere
Day three of our coast to coast hike had us walk from Borrowdale to Grasmere. The weather was being kind enough, so we stayed high after Lining Crag and Greenup Edge in order to walk along the ridgeline.
The guidebook promised a long hard walk with rocky steps with boggy sections between, and we certainly got that, along with a bunch of not insignificant downs and ups between each of the not-quite-joined-up summits.
A cup of tea on Calf Crag, taking shelter from the cool wind by a rock and letting our legs completely rest as we took in the view, was as wonderful as you might imagine. From there we hiked and scrambled around or over Moment Crag, Gibson Knott, Bracken Hause, and finally, Helm Crag.
The view from Helm Crag was simply stunning. We could see full circle – the clouds were low and moody, but the views were spectacular. The path had been rocky, the route over each crag not completely obvious, but that high route was a delight in every sense.
Helm Crag sits right on top of Easedale, which means the walk down into the valley is short and sharp. We descended a little over 300m in less than a mile, zig zagging down a rocky, gravelly, and slippery path. It was slow going, our knees ached, but it was one hundred percent worth it for those views from Helm Crag.
05 Kidsty Pike
Having never heard of Kidsty Pike until I hiked the coast to coast, I would now say it’s one of the most distinct hills I have ever climbed, highly recognisable from quite some distance thanks to its particularly pointy shape on the landscape. It was our look-behind-you view for at least the next two days, maybe longer, and has found a place in the all-time-favourite-places wall of fame in my mind.
At 784m above sea level, Kidsty Pike is the highest point on the original coast to coast route, and it commands some amazing views. It was lean-into-it windy, but the cloud base was high enough for us to enjoy almost-open scenes all around – Ennerdale Water, Scafell Pike, Helvellyn, and St Sunday Crag were all easy to spot.
It’s fair to say that you feel right on top of Haweswater at the top of Kidsty Pike, which puts into context the words in the guidebook about it being the biggest descent of the whole walk. Starting off gently, by the time you reach Kidsty Howes, the way down to the water feels pretty-well vertical. A fun descent down to the reservoir.
06 Sunbiggin Honesty Shed
It would have been rude not to make use of the famous Sunbiggin honesty shed for a boots-off lunchbreak on our longest day hike of the whole coast to coast route. I bought a fridge-cold can of Irn Bru and made a fresh tea with proper milk to accompany the food I’d bought at the Co-op in Shap the night before. It was such a lovely place to sit for a while.
Having walked just half our intended mileage for the day, we couldn’t sit for too long, even though it would have been very easy to take an hour or two on the sunny terrace. That sounds as though we’d not done much, but 11 miles before lunch is not to be sniffed at – we just had 10.5 more miles to go! I don’t know about you, but I always like to get more than halfway before lunch, it helps make big mile or technical hiking days feel manageable somehow.
We were fortunate with our timing, as it was the last week the shed would be open for the season.
07 Nine Standards Rigg
Day seven of our coast to coast hike from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay was to include a prominent feature on the landscape that I’d been wanting to hike for years: Nine Standards Rigg.
A beautiful and strange series of oddly shaped cairns in a long line, Nine Standards Rigg has been standing on top of this fell for at least 800 years. The cairns there now are not the originals, they’ve been rebuilt several times, most recently in 2005. There’s record of the name – Nine Standards – for at least a couple of hundred years, but there may have been 13 cairns at one point.
It was very cold and windy, but we took our time enjoying the beautiful if not slightly eerie sight. The top of the fell is stamped with a trig pillar, naturally, which marked our highest point of the day at 662m above sea level. As with many other trigs in the country, the view is actually better from and of the main feature itself – but our route took us past the trig, and it’s practically the law to touch them when you see them, so we enjoyed that too.
Apparently, on a clear day, there are long views to the Eden Valley and Lakes to the west, the Cross Fell range of the North Pennines to the north – and even as far as Teeside in the east. The view was not the clearest, but it was stunning, and I’m very glad indeed the weather was kind enough to allow me to tick this one off my list. As far as bucket list hikes go, I was very happy.
08 Cleveland Hills
The Cleveland Hills are a rollercoaster; the coast to coast route requires ascending (and descending) five big hills in just a few miles. I’d hiked here as part of the Lyke Wake Walk, and so I knew what to expect – this was one section of trail I couldn’t claim to be naïve about!
The first ascent took us up to Carlton Moor and our first trig pillar of the day, standing at 408 metres. It also provided us with our first view of the North Sea of the coast to coast hike, a big moment. That sea view also meant we were having a fabulously good weather day – it might have been super cold, but it was clear enough to see the sea 45 miles away.
Second we had Cringle Moor, a small domed shaped hill topped by the Alec Falconer Memorial Seat, followed by an ascent to Cold Moor. A short but steep climb, this is the kind of hill I don’t mind – a lot of effort in the moment, but it’s over quickly and has great views from the top.
The fourth ascent was a boulder-filled scramble up and over Wain Stones, a rocky outcrop of sandstone covered in Bronze Age markings. And last, but by no means least, we had a slabbed and stepped path up to Carr Ridge and to the trig pillar on Urra Moor, standing at 445 metres.
It was hard work, but the scenery was nothing short of superb. It was everything I like about hiking in England – hills with views all around, ancient history to see and explore, rocky outcrops with “climb me” written all over them, and vast rugged landscapes with apparently nothing of note other than the incredibly impressive vastness of space. An outstanding morning.
09 East Arncliffe Wood
East Arncliffe Wood was probably my favourite one-mile stretch of footpath of the entire 200-miles from St Bees to Robin Hood’s Bay. The coast to coast route here follows the Esk Way along the southern bank of the River Esk, on a combination of muddy woodland footpath, old worn stone slabs, and railway sleepers.
It was just gorgeous. What made it special were the beautiful stone slabs with mossy edges, worn down to smooth lumps from so much footfall over the years. And I mean years – these stones are ancient, part of an old monk’s route, a bit like the Nun’s Steps we walked up on day nine (which only just missed out on a spot in this list of ten moments).
I can see how it would be very muddy and slippery in wet weather – the combination of moss on stone would be a bit slimy. Once again realised how fortunate we were with the weather – yes, we had some poor weather which prevented us getting up Helvellyn on day four, and on our way to Osmotherley on day 11, but it had been quite a dry couple of weeks by British standards.
The woodland didn’t stretch far, but our twenty minutes under the canopy topped up all kinds of reserves that the moorlands miles had taken from us.
10 The End!!!
It would be weird to write a favourite-moments post and not include crossing the finish line, right?
We walked into Robin Hood’s Bay at around 2pm on a Saturday afternoon. The business of this touristy fishing village was something of a shock to the system (as was paying 40p to use a very unclean toilet…), but we did our best not to let that put us off as we walked down to the sea to enjoy the fruits of our labour.
We headed onto the beach to complete the hike in the traditional way – by taking our boots off and having a paddle in the shallow waves, and by throwing the pebbles we’d picked up in St Bees into the sea. The water was SO cold, and we didn’t last long before we wanted dry and warm feet again, but it was a lovely and fitting way to mark the finish line.
And, of course, we completed our celebrations by getting salt and vinegar covered fish and chips and sitting on the harbour wall to eat them, watching the world move around us.
It all sounds a bit anti-climactic now, but in all honesty, it was a perfect way to finish this hike – taking some time to sit, eat, enjoy the view, people watch, and smile to each other about our achievement. As everyone else around us bustled around, we took some time to quietly acknowledge the biggest walk of our lives (so far…).
…And the Worst?
As has become traditional in my hiking highlights posts, it would be remiss of me not to mention at least a couple of not-so-highlights… you know, keeping it real. And boy was I fed plenty of realness during my hike of the UK coast to coast.
Tantrums on Red Pike
It was always going to be the mountains of the Lake District I would struggle with most on this hike. But before I started, I felt confident in my abilities, and I knew I could get up the big ascents, even if I would do so puffing and panting.
Red Pike made me doubt everything, depleted my energy reserves, and left me with nothing. This hill made me wonder if I should have started this hike at all. And, worst, made me cry. The towering summit of Red Pike, at 755m, very nearly beat me. If it wasn’t for Jenni, I’d have turned around and gone home.
The contour lines did not lie. Squished together like someone was playing with orange silly string, the climb up Red Pike was a very steep one indeed. One minute we were on a lovely forest track along a lake, the next we were rising towards the clouds. Up, up and up. So much up. Possibly the most up I’ve ever done in one go in my life.
It was utterly awful. It took an absolute age, much longer I thought it would, and I felt like my lungs and legs were going to explode. I know it sounds overly dramatic, but it really was the worst I’ve ever felt on a hike. I tried desperately to find more oomph (technical term), but failed, miserably.
At one point I was so frustrated in my inability to make any progress up the hill, that I had a tantrum at a sheep. I screamed and shouted at that sheep, at a complete loss as to how I was going to get to the top. I don’t think I’ve ever expressed my anger at a sheep before. Sorry, sheep. Not my finest moment.
Low Cloud at Helvellyn
I think it’s fair to say one of the things that excited both Jenni and I the most about the cost to coast, was the opportunity to hike Helvellyn. This was to be our third “high route” of the coast to coast in a row, and it would be a biggie, and was probably the main reason we paid for the baggage transfer service.
But, it wasn’t to be. The cloud was low, the wind was strong, and the rain was falling. We knew the second we walked through the gap in the stone wall at the southern end of Grisedale Tarn, that this was as high as we were going to be walking that day.
We were only at about 570 (ish) metres above sea level at this point; Helvellyn was way up in the sky at 950m. And not only that, our route off Helvellyn would be Striding Edge, which is precarious in the best weather conditions.
There was absolutely no other decision to be made, and while we were (are) both very disappointed, there was no need for any discussion on the matter. It was a done deal, no question.
We might have been using this coast to coast hike as an opportunity to stretch and challenge ourselves, but we’re not stupid and we know our limits. Helvellyn in that kind of weather was far beyond anything we’d consider sensible, and we very much hoped no-one was up there in that moment. And it will still be there when we return.
Shorter Days on the Flats
We made the decision to play around with the sections in the latter half of the hike in order to avoid a massive 23-mile day between Richmond and Ingleby Cross. We hiked two days over 20 miles, but when planning our overnights, didn’t fancy a third.
Add that we struggled to find suitable camping options open – one of the weird things about hiking in the UK in October is many places have already closed for the season (read about where we slept) – and we ended up with a few very short days in a row.
In hindsight, we could have – perhaps should have – done that 23-mile section from Richmond to Ingleby Cross in one day. Yes, it would have been a long and hard day, taking all the light we had available in mid-October, but it would have turned two of the flat and field-filled days into one. It would certainly have been within our fitness and capabilities.
If you are reading this post to help plan your coast to coast hike, and are worried about that 23-mile day, I say go for it. I don’t regret our choice terribly or anything like that, I really thought a few short days would do us good, and they did. But you live and learn. I underestimated our ability to knock out the miles, and our desire to. And given that we had pre-booked our baggage transfer, we were wedded to our planned route once we’d started.
Should I do the coast to coast again – stranger things have happened – I would vote for knocking out those miles in one day.
Two Very Special Mentions
These might not be favourite moments exactly, but they absolutely deserve some words here in my coast to coast highlights post…
Drying Rooms
Drying rooms when hiking long distances in the UK are an absolute luxury that cannot be underappreciated. All the YHAs we stayed in, we well as some of the other campsites, had them – and we made very good use of them indeed.
They really are a fantastic resource, both to dry out gear when it’s been wet but, as well to help remove the hiker stink by washing and drying hiking clothing overnight. Oh the joy of clean underwear and socks!!! I would genuinely choose somewhere to stay based on whether they have one or not, something I look out for.
They’re also really great places to meet fellow hikers! I met Dave in the drying room at YHA Grasmere, and we ended up hiking with him on our Kidsty Pike day.
Thanks Jenni
It would be remiss of me to write a coast to coast hiking post without mentioning my good hiking buddy, Jenni. She put up with a lot of my emotions on this hike (see ‘tantrums’ above…), and thankfully hasn’t been put off hiking with me completely – we’re heading to do the Cumbria Way this summer! I wrote a few more words about hiking with Jenni in my day 15 post. Thanks Jenni x
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