Why tramp?

It’s a cliche to say how the last year has made us re-evaluate how we live our lives. We’ve had to. I wonder and hope that walking might have taken root in many people’s lives and into their consciousness.

From inner cities to small towns to villages and remote areas it was our only release: one of the few things we were allowed to do, for a big part of this year and last. I wonder if it has become more popular as a national pastime as road cycling did after the 2012 Olympics.

I remember those grey Sundays throughout much of the first half of the year. Around the suspension bridge in Clifton you couldn’t move for walkers. Everyone desperate to escape from the captivity of their own homes. Then the first weekend the pubs were open the bridge was deserted. Maybe a stroll, a hike, a yomp, a tramp doesn’t hold quite the same appeal as a trip to the gym (or a trip to the local).

I’ve been walking with groups of students in the Quantocks and on Dartmoor. I’ve listened to them grumble and sit down and refuse to carry on. I’ve also seen them fight through and complete it and seen the smiles and listened to the comments that spell their sense of achievement.

I’ve lost count of the amount of teenagers I’ve passed in the most remote places with not an adult in sight completing their Duke of Edinburgh award. They have to be autonomous and self reliant. They learn independence in a remote setting. It gives them skills to carry through life but I hope opens their eyes to a sense of adventure, wonder and the benefits of being surrounded by the natural world.

And then there’s solo walking. The pace of walking and the lack of distractions frees the mind. Thoughts and feelings are exaggerated. Time stretches.

It isn’t always helpful: the level of introspection can sometimes be overwhelming and if something is bothering me it can get too loud. But it adds to learning about myself. How many of us take the time to really explore ourselves: our anxieties, passions, memories, hopes, regrets, fears and loves.

When I walk there is a clarity. And the thoughts unspool themselves.

Two years ago (before we’d heard of Covid-19) my father got diagnosed with a terminal illness. There was nothing we could do but care for him. He died in May last year at home. Friends and family were crucial in coping but it was also walking that saved me. And it still is.