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Five things to try doing while walking

Excuse me, are you walking for leisure or travel? These are the two valid purposes for walking. But there are hundreds more purposes, and here are five you might not have tried

What is the vision of Slow Ways? How do we want to change the world? Well, one thing that we often say is that we want to help and encourage people to walk:

more often, further, and for more purposes.

We think that if people know how to get places on foot, and if those places are useful (local towns etc) they are more likely to consider making the journey on foot. And that has all sorts of benefits, from the obvious physical and mental health ones, to community cohesion, environmental plusses, connection to the natural world, and plenty more.

Walking for more purposes

Generally walks are lumped together as either leisure or travel. (Have a look at this infographic from the Office of National Statistics – there are more recent stats here but the infographic is nicer to look at!) But we think that most people already walk for many more purposes, whether or not they have spelled it out to themselves. Working/walking through big emotions like grief, marking life changes, raising money and drawing attention to causes, as artistic endeavours… scroll backwards through this Stories channel and you’ll find dozens of things being done on foot that are neither leisure nor travel.

In addition though, here are five things to do while walking that you might not yet have tried out. They are specific activities, several of which you’d otherwise do indoors and sitting, which can be enhanced by doing on foot. Try them out!

1. Work one-to-ones, appraisals, performance reviews etc

We do this at Slow Ways amongst staff, and it is great. It makes an interaction that could potentially be a thorny eye-to-eye situation over a desk into something much nicer. This sort of work thing is not always easy (and feels very un-British to me, all that honesty and directness!) so doing it side-by-side and outdoors really relaxes things. 

At Slow Ways we all work remotely and so we have to make a special effort to meet up, which means we choose a nice Slow Way somewhere we’re keen to explore (and bag snails), so it feels like a bit of a treat too. 

Striding along brings all sorts of endorphins, clarity of thought, oxygenated blood, sense of shared purpose, etc, which makes for a good quality discussion. And if there are difficult things to broach then it’s easier to be authentic and less adversarial when side-by-side. 

Plus chance of seeing woodpeckers or other such life-affirming, pressure-releasing moments!

2. Counselling

A friend of mine had counselling during covid which due to contact restrictions was offered on foot, and she reported it was really useful. It seems that covid prompted many counsellors and therapists to take their practice outside, and you can search online for ‘walk and talk therapy’ or ‘outdoor therapy’. 

Therapists appreciate having more clues as to a client’s state of mind – fast walking might signify anger, and when they pause or choose to sit etc can be significant.

Psychologist Beth Collier says that “The part of the brain that is responsible for ruminative and negative thoughts – the subgenual prefrontal cortex – has been shown to quieten when we connect with nature, which gives people more space to process their problems.”

My friend said that being outside, with all of the uncertainties of weather, helped mirror the control and acceptance she felt she was working on.

And if you’re not looking for professional counselling, you could try empathy walks with friends. In his book ‘Run for Your Life: Mindful Running for a Happy Life’, William Pullen suggests organising empathy runs or walks, whereby you take it in turns to talk for a set amount of time about anything you want to, and then your walking buddy repeats what they’ve heard, without offering solutions or opinions. 

3. Long phone-calls

I struggle to concentrate on phone calls if I’m sitting inside. I get twitchy, the comfiest places in my house don’t have very good reception, I feel overheard, and everywhere my eyes settle there’s washing up or unopened post. Doodling works – it doesn’t distract me from the conversation, but frees me up from feeling a need to do something productive with my body, so that my mind can listen, I think. 

Walking around while talking is even better – like doodling in space. I get some activity at the same time, and can go really astonishingly long distances during the course of a long-overdue catch-up phone call. It also sometimes imprints a memorable call on the landscape that I am walking through, so that there are streets near my house that remind me of significant conversations. Which in a way brings a distant friend into my physical orbit, which is comforting.

4. Citizen science

No doubt when you walk anywhere you notice the wildlife around you. Whether actively or not, it’s one of the best things about being outside. If you want to take your observations to the next level – to train yourself to pay attention, to learn a bit about what you are looking at, and to get to know your area in different seasons – Slow Ways can really help.

The basic tool of nature observations is the transect – a straight line that cuts through a natural landscape. It creates a randomly selected field of study, along which observations and measurements can be made. Perfect use of a Slow Way! 

If you walk the same Slow Way many times, measuring the birds, bees, insects, plants or animals that you see, you will build up a picture of how the landscapes you are moving through are populated. Walk it in every season to see how it is differently populated throughout the year, and walk it at the same time of year for several years running to see how years differ from each other.

This can all be for your own enjoyment and to deepen your understanding of the landscape where you live or visit. Or you can submit your observations to some of the many counts and projects that exist, for whom citizen scientists are making a big difference to monitoring. 

Getting information about how land use and climate change etc are affecting the natural world is all important to being able to protect what lives in these places. Knowledge is power!

Ben Porter wrote us a really brilliant guide to using Slow Ways as transects.

5. Meditation

I really ought to get around to learning to meditate. I’d love to be able to harness that zen power. I’m sure being able to put aside stress and anxiety at will would lengthen my life. 

But when do I find the time or space to sit quietly in my flat? See point three, long phone-calls, about washing up etc. If I can’t not see the laundry situation when on the phone, it’s even harder when sitting doing as close to nothing as I possibly can. 

The popularity of mindfulness – the cognitive skill of being in the present, and bringing non-judgemental awareness to the body and surroundings – has become very popular over recent years. And that’s a good thing. The demands on our attention seem to get more frenetic with every passing year, and mindfulness practices are a really good way of learning to find calm wherever you happen to be. 

Being outside brings all the additional benefits already mentioned, so walking meditations can be particularly powerful, plus – no laundry pile in sight.

Headspace, the meditation app, has this suggestion of a walking meditation, which suggests a number of things to draw your attention to, from how your body feels, to the rhythm of your gait, to the smells and sounds around you.

I think I love walking because it’s the closest I get to meditating as it is. This lovely quote from Rebecca Solnit, in her book Wanderlust, sums it up for me:

“Walking, ideally, is a state in which the mind, the body and the world are aligned, as though they were three characters finally in conversation with each other, three notes suddenly making a chord. Walking allows us to be in our bodies and in the world without being made busy by them. It leaves us free to think without being wholly lost in our thoughts.”

Aaaaand… do it on a Slow Way. Of course I have to say this – I may be contractually obliged. I’m certainly hooked! The additional bump of wellbeing that comes from walking a route that an exciting new national project really needs you to walk and report back on – well, why not? If you need help getting started on Slow Ways, download this or read this or join one of our regular online welcome sessions.

What’s this about a donkey?

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Hear the one about Slow Ways, Clare Balding, and a donkey? Read on!

Slow Ways’s Hannah went on BBC Radio 4’s Ramblings to talk about walking around Wales with her donkey Chico, and how that led on to really caring about stiles and kissing gates!

Everyone involved in Slow Ways have their own reasons that the creation of a national walking network just makes sense to them. Some people are excited by how good it is for creating bespoke long trails from your hometown to wherever your heart desires. Some people have promised to walk more with a loved one, and doing it on Slow Ways gives them extra purpose. Some people are walking Slow Ways to ease anxiety about the state of the world at the moment, or as something meaningful to do after retiring, or as rehabilitation.

Hannah Engelkamp once walked around Wales with her donkey, and it was then that she realised how few people remember the location of stiles and kissing gates if you ask them. Donkeys, of course, cannot get past either of these obstacles. They are also very risk-averse creatures, despite being famously very tough. So many donkeys may make a big deal out all sorts of other obstacles.

Chico, on occasion, refused to cross a six-inch rivulet, a sleeping pig, a noisy metal footbridge, Snowdon, puddles, and countless other things. Some of these things will always be the wildcards of walking with a donkey, which Hannah describes as the surprise joy of walking with a donkey:

“You are really in the landscape and in the moment – the adventure is where the donkey is. There’s no cheating and sneaking off to a hotel and returning to the route later. If the donkey won’t move, everyone is sleeping right there. You can never be sure where you’ll get to or what time you’ll arrive. Hugely frustrating, but actually humbling, and the perfect recipe for loads of good stories!”

Hannah And Chico finished their walk, wrote a book and made a film and carried on walking around the place. And by and by, Slow Ways came to being and Hannah could immediately see how a little information would go a very long way.

“It would have made a huge difference to look at the route ahead and know for sure whether it was donkey-friendly. We retraced our steps for four miles once after someone swore there wasn’t a stile, and we found it between an oil refinery and the seashore where there were absolutely no workarounds. And we were often cautious when we didn’t need to be, if there was no-one around to ask. Slow Ways is like always having someone around to ask.”

Maccar one, the route that features in Ramblings

“Donkeys are a special case of course. But in just the same way, a little information makes all the difference for people with wheelchairs, pushchairs, unliftable dogs, and countless other specific and different needs. Slow Ways means they can get the review and survey information, see the photos, and decide for themselves whether to try a route or not. It’s already, every day, making the difference between people walking somewhere or people not walking somewhere.

Power to the people.

And, if applicable, to the donkeys.”

You can hear the episode of Ramblings on BBC Sounds as soon as it has aired, and read more about Hannah’s trip around Wales on her website www.seasidedonkey.co.uk or Facebook here.

Walking between railway stations – a new national network

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Steve Melia is a travel writer who never drives or flies. He’s teaming up with Slow Ways and needs your help to create a walking network between train stations

Would you like to help create a national network of walks between railway stations, as an additional layer on Slow Ways? If so, please sign up to our mailing list on www.railwalks.co.uk and come to our first meeting on March 9th – a workshop in person in Worcester – if you can.

I am a travel writer with a difference – I never drive or fly. 15 years ago I moved from a national park to a city centre, gave up the car, and then discovered how easy it was to walk all over Southwest England, and many other places, by public transport. Like most people, I thought you had to drive to reach deep, wild and remote countryside. Some of my walks use buses; most use trains. That gave me the idea for a national network.

I had been trying since 2021 to interest various parts of the rail industry in this idea, making slow progress, when someone put me in touch with Dan Raven-Ellison, the founder of Slow Ways. This idea, he told me, had also occurred to him. Many Slow Ways settlements already have a railway station at their centre. Walks between them already cover much of the country as shown on this map. Our aim is to build on that network, including more stations and more walks, both linear and circular. We may also identify ‘gold star stations’, which are particularly good for rural walking. We will be working with Slow Ways to create an additional layer on the final website specifically for rail walks.

In the meantime, we were surprised to discover 55 existing websites with rail walks, covering all parts of Britain. They weren’t all easy to find, so we have organised links to them all by region and nation, starting from this page. They are all in different formats; most of them don’t have gpx files, so we still need that new national network, but they clearly show the potential. If you, or anyone you know, are interested in walking by rail then take a look at those pages.

What sort of walks should we include? How should we go about it? We will be discussing those and other questions, with a hands-on workshop, on March 9th in Worcester. We hope to see some of you there. Follow this link from the Railwalks website to sign up.

See Steve Melia’s work at www.greentravelwriter.co.uk

Walking and not-walking in Marseille

Poet Caleb Parkin reflects on movement and mobility – plus strange intertwinings with the Papal itinerary – in this shuffled deck of moments

For a brief moment, our ambulance is part of the Papal motorcade. We laugh, before you quickly ask for the blue bin to projectile vomit in, again.

*

At home in Bristol, we look at the beautiful Calanques National Park, just south of Marseille, on Google Maps. I imagine hiking between the gorgeous coves, sweaty and glittering and blissful. 

*

While galloping like a horse at my fortnightly free dancing event, I collide with another galloper and come down with my right ankle at right-angles. I crawl to the side of the hall. Somebody goes to get ice. 

When she hears about the Pope’s coinciding visit to Marseille, my mum jokes about me getting run over by the ‘Papamobile’, unable to flee in my current condition.

On the bus, you go entirely pale, no colour in lips. An old lady offers her seat, then you faint. Your eyes roll back, head lolling. You come to shortly after, a doctor shouting questions about family history. 

*

The French word for ankle is ‘cheville’. Not ‘cheveux’ (hair) or ‘chevaux’ (horses). I think.

Pas d’alcool, I say to the Pompiers, pas d’alcool. We had not had a drink. We sit on the pavement, while the bus and all its passengers wait. 

*

We go to Aix-en-Provence by train, for the afternoon. We get two drinks and it costs 23 Euros. In the Hermes window, there is a jacket costing 11,000 Euros. There are electric tuk-tuk micro-buses to convey people around the centre, so they can still access the shops. 

You remind me of the French phrase, lecher les vitrines, “licking the windows”, for window-shopping.

*

At the emergency department, they wrap you in a gold blanket which is strangely blingy. I ask to take a photo of you in it, like a fabulous kebab, or a golden sceptre.

*

By the little port near our AirBnB, I hobble around to swim – being in the water is a blessed relief. I manage to climb a little and sit with my ankle elevated – among the cigarette butts and sun-hardened gum, trying to look glamorous. 

On Tuesday afternoon, I see the fit but psychotic Essex boy (actor) from The White Lotus, series two. This briefly distracts me from feeling sick. But I am, very. 

Could be the camembert I finished at lunch. I definitely swam past a human stool in the sea at Plage des Prophets too though. 

I wonder why it’s the ‘prophets’ beach’. What’s it like to know what’s coming? Can you take evasive steps? 

On our last evening, thinking we’ll go for rosé and frites overlooking the sunset, we hop on the bus back towards town.

*

At the Folk Fashion exhibition, I sit on a bench and stretch my twisted ankle out. There is nobody else in this bit of gallery, so I recline for a moment – feeling transgressive, slovenly, among these haughty haute couture mannequins.

We get e-bikes – LeVelo – out to Calanque de Saména. Cycling is good to keep the ankle moving.

A kite-surfer paddles in, rests his inflatable kite-wings, that board with its extended hydrodynamic skiff. 

He moves back out into the waves, becoming an orange dot, then skims over the froth; all technology, agility.

Outwards at Bristol Airport, I’m stopped at security; my bag of toiletries doesn’t quite seal. They ask what I want to leave: toothpaste, or ibuprofen gel? (Teeth, or bones?)

I sit with my ankle up on my suitcase, wishing the train wasn’t more than three times as expensive as this flight.

*

At La Friche Cultural Centre, there’s a code for the lift. I don’t bother asking for it – it’s only a few flights, a temporary injury.

*

The digital signs around Marseille say:

VISITE PAPA
PRIVILIGEZ LES TRANSPORT
EN COMMUN

[PAPAL VISIT
PRIORITISE PUBLIC
TRANSPORT]

*

I sit down to watch a video installation of a metal figure, dancing, before rain sets in. The figure rusts, develops mineral deposits around its joints. Plants sprout from its body and drop off, splashing below.

*

There are no buses to get to the station for our return flight, so we share with a lovely couple from Bordeaux. The taxi is a Tesla, which feels self-driving, even with a driver. 

He says we can cancel the trip on Uber and pay him 15 Euros, not the 20 the app has stated. 

This is Marseille, he says, everything is possible.

On the pavement by the tree you’ve dramatically spewed into (having regained consciousness) I manage to give your date of birth in French: Mille….neuf-cent….soixant…dix-neuf!

A man from the bus company waits by the ambulance with a clipboard. He wants to know what kind of ticket we had, asks other bus questions. Presumably has a report to file on the delay.

*

Because the scans and blood tests will take 2-3 hours, I go back to the apartment on a Voi scooter. The phone holder is wobbly but I have to take my phone case off for it to fit. 

My ankle judders on a cobbled street. A pothole: the phone jitters free and bounces along the gutter. It doesn’t smash. I am astonished. 

I set off, side-swiped by a moped overtaking and turning right. What I shout is not French and not printable. 

*

At the departure gate to head home, we can see a glittering blue ITA airways plane across the runway. There are lines of pristine white-uniformed soldiers and what we think are Cardinals, all lined up in their black and red. We speculate which tiny figure is the Pope. 

*

About 1am, back from Marseille emergency department, we get a message from the house-sitters. Barney, our elder border terrier, got up earlier and started barking at nothing, before collapsing and having a short fit. 

He is fine the next morning. I think about E.T. and Elliot. Strange entanglements. 

*

I don’t recall seeing any other wheelchair users while in Marseille, just le Papa. 

The bus timetables must be returning to normal, now he’s being lifted into his plane. Back home with the ‘Vat Pack’, via his bespoke elevator.

At Calanque de Sormiou, I manage to walk 50 minutes, up a hill then down, to reach that gorgeous sea. 

I use my snorkel for quite a while, for the first time. One large silver fish darts past, joins a whole shoal, just below the surface. They glint away, out to sea. 

It’s our last day and we think about going somewhere for frites and a glass of rosé, to watch the sunset. 

The cliff casts a jagged shadow over the water, which blots across the Calanque.

Caleb Parkin

Caleb Parkin is a queer eco poet & facilitator, based in Bristol.

He tutors for Poetry Society, Poetry School and First Story and holds an MSc in Creative Writing for Therapeutic Purposes.

From 2020 – 2022 he was the third Bristol City Poet. His book, The Fruiting Body, was longlisted for the Laurel Prize.

Inspired to go on your own Slow Ways nature wandering? Why not sign up to walk and review Slow Ways. You can also find and follow us on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook

How to trailblaze a Slow Way

Plenty of Slow Ways routes have yet to be walked. Being the first to try one out is adventurous and generous! Read on for advice from seasoned Slow Ways volunteers

The Slow Ways network is charging ahead. Every day people are walking routes, and then reviewing them. 20% of the network has been verified (walked and positively reviewed three or more times) and another 20% has been surveyed. 62% of all the routes have been reviewed! That’s 96,000km (60,000 miles)!

This is amazing!

But that still leaves a lot of routes that have been drawn but not yet walked. We call it trailblazing, if you are the first to walk a Slow Way route. The route page on the website will tell you the distance and altitude rise and fall. The route is plotted and can be followed from the site or our app, or downloaded as a gpx file to use through another navigation app. But there won’t be any reviews or photos, and no guarantee that the route works, is safe, accessible, or accurately drawn.

Trailblazing isn’t for everyone, but it does bring its own satisfactions, and is a really appreciated service to the network and its future walkers. If that sounds a bit abstract, it isn’t. There may well be someone in your local area who would like to walk the route you trailblaze but daren’t without knowing something about it. Your experience of it will give them the confidence to try it. They will literally be walking in your footsteps. 

Sound like something you’d like to do? Here is a round-up of tips from frequent Slow Ways walkers, to get you started on your trailblazing missions. All of these were offered up on our Discord platform where you are very welcome to join – it’s ideal for asking questions, checking what to do in puzzling circumstances, or adding your own tips.

Before you go

Sense-check the route

Sense-check the route on a map first – you might be able to see problems that the route drafter didn’t notice. Not all of the routes were drafted by people with local knowledge, so if you do know the area you could have some useful intel. (Hannah)

Have a plan B

My advice is to always have a plan B, and sometimes C, D and E for sections that you’re unsure of when checking the map. In my experience those are places where you think the route might pass over private land, or that suggest walking along potentially busy roads. Also check out the nearest places to access public transport in case you do have to abort. (Helen Gough)

Look on Google Maps Street View where there might be a busy road to see if there is a pavement; also look for crossing points of very busy roads if they’re needed. Maybe also check where footpaths leave roads – occasionally they are completely overgrown. (Mary Oz)

Yes! I do this almost every time. They are invaluable tools. Google Maps is really useful for seeing whether there is an obvious path where a footpath is meant to be – suggesting it is reasonably well used – or (more often) not, so I can be prepared for potential problems. The historical imagery available in Google Earth is occasionally useful for this too. (panifex)

You may create and walk you own version

Do feel free to trial your own version of a route if you don’t like the look of what’s suggested. There’s guidance on how to add a gpx file of your new route here. I wouldn’t make a new gpx until after walking it and knowing that it works and is worth it, but it looks like some people do as a matter of course. (Hannah)

I always modify the gpx on my computer. Even just to align better with the paths on OpenStreetMap, and to find all crossings. Then I upload it to my watch for the walk. (Derick Rethans)

I always replot routes before setting out to make sure I know what’s ahead, including any potential challenges, but mainly because some of the plotted routes on Slow Ways are too generalised where greater attention to detail is required. (Steve L)

I like not being totally prepared! I’ve always found it a way to engage well with the landscape and take it as I find it. And to have to adapt. But I’ve come unstuck a few times. Grudgingly, trailblazing does benefit from prior research. At least a look at the route in advance can tell me how comfortable I am being unprepared, depending on the type of terrain. (Hannah)

While you walk/ run/ scoot/ hike

Don’t let the tech put you off

You can walk any Slow Ways using a paper OS map. I like transcribing the route onto the map with a highlighter pen. You can also print out the route from the website (how to guide here), find the route on our Apple app (Android on the way), or navigate straight from the website on a browser window on your phone. Plenty of people walk Slow Ways and never make gpx routes from scratch. (Hannah)

If there is an access issue try to explore potential workarounds while you are still outdoors. (Petr)

Have a good map with you on the walk – one that shows different footpaths in addition to the roads. If you rely on a digital version, download it for offline use and make sure you’ve got enough battery to last you the whole way. I do a lot of prep that people have already mentioned, but as others have said, you can’t always foresee where you have to divert from the gpx file or where a path might be impassable. Having a map can show you options to either abort if the detour is too long or find an alternative to continue on with the walk. (agreeninn)

Take lots of photos

Take loads of photos! Sometimes when you’re in the zone you just trudge, but photos help when you do your review. Don’t forget to stop and look back. The view is entirely different 😁 (John Medland)

Think about the next walker

This tip is more to do with attitude: do not worry about the person who did the plotting, only the next person doing the walking. (David Sanderson)

Leave plenty of time!

In winter start early so you don’t run out of daylight. (Helen Gough)

As a really rough rule of thumb I reckon on leaving 20% longer than you usually would for the distance. Little things like mud or going to the wrong corner of a field can add up, and big things like impenetrable thickets or absent footbridges can take a while to work around. (Hannah)

Take note of the weather and time of year

Prepare for the worst ground conditions. (Petr)

I pioneered one route once that required me to wade through a stream (it rained that morning). It was supposed to be fordable (even on OpenStreetMap), but no luck. I got very wet socks. The alternative would have been a three-mile detour. (Derick Rethans)

Getting home again 

Don’t forget to plan how you will get back to the start, check available public transport etc. (markdecosemo)

Since trailblazing routes can be a bit hit and miss, I like to do the public transport bit of the journey first so that I am then walking back home or back to my car. It’s stressful walking a route of unknown quality with a hard deadline. (Hannah)

Reviewing the route you walked

When you are done and home again it is time to review the route. The process can be very short, but includes the question ‘Would you recommend this route as part of our Slow Ways network?’ If you tick no or maybe this counts as a negative. A route needs three positives to become verified – part of the checked and trusted network.

Don’t ‘pass’ a route where you were forced to divert. And don’t “fail” a route that was possible and safe, just because you’d prefer some alternative. (Mary Oz)

Don’t accept routes that need tweaking to make them walkable. Fine if the detour is very small but… (BeeryHikerHugh)

If you have ideas of how to make the route better, but didn’t test them, put the details in your review for the next person to try. You might want to come back another day to try them yourself. But make sure you mention it all in your review in case someone else gets there first. 

Whether or not you tested your alternatives you might want to make a new gpx route file and upload it to the website, or ask the community to make one for you via Discord or hello@slowways.org If you did walk the whole of your new route please do be its first reviewer too! If you didn’t walk it all you can upload it for the next person, but not review it. 

You can also review the unsuccessful or less good route it was based on, and explain why you have suggested a new version. All of your experience will be useful to the next person. (Hannah)

Don’t forget that you can also survey routes!

Surveying is also really appreciated. You can survey as you trailblaze, but if you suspect the route might not work you may want to check it once first, and come back to survey it another day. There’s a how to survey guide here.

And you can also review a route twice

If you go back to re-walk a route after a period of time, you are welcome to review it again. It might be a different season with different vegetation or conditions underfoot; you might notice things you didn’t the first time. All Slow Ways routes will all need re-checking over time, and you are welcome to review the same one more than once.

Feel pleased with yourself!

Trailblazing is adventurous and generous. It is a philanthropic act that is the first (sometimes) tricky step in bringing a route into the trusted network, making important links, and making the network usable and valuable. Thank you.

The 40-mile Slow Way, pursued by wee beasties

Slow Ways come in all sizes and challenges, and Jo Bennie continues to strike out solo on the no-joke Cairngorms ones. Here, complete with midges, cold soup, and a mountain with a rude name, is her latest trip

A year ago I found myself standing at a bus stop at Ballater, dripping gently.  I had been tracing Balauc one and Aucbre two for two days, traversing fording streams in spate and climbing paths that had become rivers.  I phoned the other half to confirm I was safe. The Queen had died at Balmoral. Ah.

Braclo one a year later (5 Sep 2023) saw me coming off the bus at Braemar after four hours’ travelling from Dundee. The Cairngorm mountains were still in high summer, the only clues to the impending autumn were the slight change of colour to the trees, the blinding lowness of the sun, the absence of swallow, swift and martin and the lengthening of the nights towards the equinox. I walked out of the village along the Old Military Road to Glen Callater for the night.

A map of all of the Cairngorms Slow Ways routes that Jo Bennie has walked so far
All of the Cairngorms Slow Ways routes that Jo Bennie has walked so far. Read about them here: Avibra two (route) or Aviemore to Braemar (Jo’s story); Cloauc (route) or Clova to Auchronie (Jo’s story), and her Braemar to Clova walk with the review that first caught our eye and made us get in touch!

A brief note on the Mounth: imagine a squarish cake, this is the Cairngorms. Cut a small rectangular slice out of the bottom right corner, this is the Mounth. The cuts are the Dee valley to the north, and the Glen Shee Cairnwell pass to the west. Less craggy and lower than the main Cairngorm plateau the Mounth is an undulating land sea, bites of corries to the south marking the heads of the Angus Glens. Rising out of the Mounth are the slopes of Lochnagar and the conical peak of Mount Keen.

Fearsome beasties

Back at Braclo one, I wound my way up the glen alongside the Callater Burn as it ran noisily over massive boulders and great flat plates of granite. Stopping at the bridge I doused myself in midge spray, pulled down my sleeves and tightened my midge net. The midge forecast was only 1 out of 4 but the bite of the fearsome beastie gifts me welts and blisters. The dense black cloud whined around my ears as I threw everything into my tent and contorted myself to decant my gear. Cold lentil soup for tea – it wasn’t worth the midge bites to cook up – and a fitful night’s sleep.  

Loch Callater

Pursued the next morning by my bitey attendants I threw all my gear onto the bridge, stuffed my pack and made for Callater Stables bothy. Trudging up the curves of the glen I was glad to see the Stables roofs coming into view behind a hummock. On the shore of Loch Callater someone was taking pictures before they turned up onto a path round the corries, their sleeping bag and mat sprawled on the platform inside.

Taking the bothy water bottles down to the burn I teetered on the boulders to reach the faster water. The day was still, clear and warm, the slightest breeze cat’s pawing the loch and dispersing the midges. Porridge and coffee ready, I luxuriated on a bench in the sun. Soon, time to slap on the factor 50 and utilise the compost toilet, wonderful not to have to cut a cathole through tough roots.

Hiking therapy

Turning back onto Braclo one for the path up to the Mounth I passed an elderly couple, their dog wriggling under the gate. I hope I’m still on the hills when I’m older. Crossing the stile carefully with my heavy pack, I took the clear stony path climbing steeply up through the heather. I started just as the black rope of an adder slid off the path, and apologised for disturbing its morning sunbathe.  

The punishing effort of hiking is my therapy. It derails the incessant jabbering of my brain. I can think only of the next step, the placement of boot and pole

Climbing above the northern flank of Loch Callater the views rewarded the fierce effort of every step. As I climbed I could feel the work doing its job; the punishing effort of hiking is my therapy. It derails the incessant jabbering of my brain. I can think only of the next step, the placement of boot and pole, the pressure of the hip-belt and pull of the pack. I climb on.

Below me Braclo one followed Jock’s Road along the shore of Loch Callater. Another day I would have left my tent there and climbed up above the glen floor to Loch Kander suspended like a dish of water 100 metres up. Today as I climbed, a new view of Loch Kander slid into view opposite; from above, nestled below its corrie, diminished with distance, the waterfalls, boggy grass, stone, peat and frogs in the mist were memories that were tangible and itchy in my feet.

From the Stuic

To my right was the wet climb of Jock’s Road over to Crow Craigies. I considered working my way along the ridge to Falfernie and down to Glen Doll, but believing I would reach Lochnagar’s summits (I didn’t) I carried on.  Eventually I lost sight of the glen, passing out onto the rolling plateau of the Mounth.

Small pile of faeces…

Lochnagar. I don’t know if it is unique, but so far it’s the only mountain I’ve walked that isn’t named for its peak. Lochnagar (Lochan na Gaire, to give it its Sunday name) translates as ‘the lochan of the noisy sound’ and is the name of the lochan lying at the foot of the mighty granite faces of the mountain’s corrie faces: Eagle Crag, the Buttresses, the Pinnacle. A profile so distinctive it is easy to pick out from great distances as it curves a mighty spur of the Mounth above Dubh Loch. The actual highest point of Lochnagar is Cac Carn Beag which tops out at 1155 metres. Cac Carn Beag translates as, well, to be polite, ‘small pile of faeces’. I can see why they went with Lochnagar…

Walking the plateau towards the summits I suddenly realised I was heading away from Glen Doll. I considered my options. If I did go as far as Cac Carn Beag it would be seven miles back to Broad Cairn where I planned to camp. Although I’d only covered 4½ miles since Callater Stables it had been a tough 4½. So I turned off to the Stuic: a bite out of the north side of Lochnagar above Loch nan Euan.

My lodgings amongst the rocks

I sat and ate lunch perched above a steep slope of great boulders, the corrie cliff to my right and a sea of peaks ahead. Sitting above the great drop I felt “space vast and quiet and strong”. “Time… a benediction and space the windswept playground of thought” (Neil M Gunn). 

The dawn light came up gold over Loch Esk, tucked high above Glen Doll under Crow Craigies

So, back round the crescent above the south side of Dubh Loch, the path rising and falling over Cairn Bannock and Cairn of Gowal through boulder fields to the frost-cracked tor capping Broad Cairn. Among the massive rocks I found a remarkably flattish bit of ground and pitched the tent, using my rock pegs in the thin skin of soil. It was another fitful night’s sleep as the tent flapped in the wind, but setting my alarm for 5.30am to watch the dawn come up delivered. The light came up gold over Loch Esk, tucked high above Glen Doll under Crow Craigies.  

Sunrise from Broad Cairn

I wouldn’t summit camp again, it’s too noisy, but I’m glad I did it. And I had misjudged – I thought it was only five miles down to the Ranger Base at Glen Doll but it was seven and a half miles and I was meeting my people at 12 so no time to cook up breakfast. Slapping antihistamine and sun cream on, I doused myself in midge spray and began down the hill.

A moving target

I couldn’t discern my way off the hill but I could see the path far below as it followed the ridge. I decided to head straight for the path but as I picked my way unsteadily across boulders shifting and tilting underfoot I reconsidered. Turning back I found (and lost again, several times) the path that threaded through the boulder fields of the shoulder of Little Crag on to a better path that led down to a shed where I scarfed a packet of jelly snakes. The midges manifested out of the air. I turned onto the path down to Glen Doll. If I kept moving they couldn’t land on me…

Early morning over Dubh Loch

The path to the bridge below where the Esk hurtles through a gorge of red-stained granite from the Glittering Skellies steepened and became rougher. At the Burn of Altcuthrie there was an easy climb down to the good cold water. I drank, and filled my water bottle.

River relief

Walking down from there to the Ranger’s Base was a comfortingly familiar route but between heat and haste it was a struggle. The track winds gently downhill along and above the South Esk, across rough grass past Moulzie farm where two highland ponies grazed ahead of the stalking season. Trudging along the forest track I passed the remnants of plantations shattered by Storm Arwen, through the scent of hot pine under midday sun.

Finally, I looped round the end of the track onto the bridge to the car park. Red tape marked one end. Someone had misjudged their turn.

With great pleasure I dumped my pack, hauled off my boots and headed across the picnic ground, discarding my clothes on the bank and stepping into the biting relief of the river to rinse off the journey. I sat and let the water soothe my feet for a bit. Clean clothes, Cullen Skink and coffee at the Glen Clova hotel. Then home, tired but feeling accomplished… and deciding camping during midge season wasn’t much fun.

Jo Bennie

Born in Cambridge, Jo has lived in or near Dundee in the northeast of Scotland since 1993 when she went to university there. The last three years have seen Jo take to the hills in Scotland, and she credits them as her teachers.

“I began by climbing the Sidlaw Hills above Dundee close to my house in Carnoustie. Next came overnight solo camping in the Angus Glens. I will continue to return to their quiet loveliness and find new sanctuaries among the ‘big hills’ of the Cairngorms. The wild camping and the movement forward in solitude brings me respite from a life complicated by autism, bipolar and long covid. For the only thing of concern to be the next step forwards. Through heather and bog and forest in the glories of the Scottish weather, consistent only in its mercurial changeability.”

Inspired to prepare for your own Slow Ways Cairgorms adventure? Why not sign up to walk and review Slow Ways. You can also find and follow us on InstagramTwitter and Facebook

Volunteer with us! Become a Wayfarer

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New ways to get involved with Slow Ways

In 2024 we are growing our community and launching a new way to get involved and volunteer with Slow Ways – by joining our team of Wayfarers.

We need volunteers in every corner of Britain to help get their region connected up to the national walking network. You’ll join our supportive online community of committed volunteers. They are working together to walk, run or wheel routes in their area, and completing reviews and surveys for others to enjoy the routes.

Wayfarers are Slow Ways volunteers who have committed to walk and review five routes and to join their local team on our online community platform.

Once you’ve signed up you will receive:

  • a volunteer induction and be introduced to others in your region
  • access to the ‘Wayfarer-only’ section of our online community on Discord
  • invitations to regular online meet-ups for volunteers
  • occasional ‘Wayfarer-only’ emails with extra opportunities 
  • invitations to volunteer meet-ups to walk together, and support to organise your own group walks
  • rewards for milestones met whilst walking if you also optionally take on our Big Slow Ways Challenge 2024

Who is this for?

Anyone can sign up to become a Wayfarer. We just ask that you commit to walk and review five Slow Ways routes and join our online community where you can join your regional team. 

It might suit you especially if:


1) You already walk Slow Ways and would like to be connected with others in your region or further afield

2) You are signed up to Slow Ways but haven’t started walking yet and are motivated by joining a supportive and active community

3) You’re new to Slow Ways and want a volunteer role that will keep you active as well as make a difference

Sign up here, or contact Dan Barron with any questions.

Tell us the story of a trail

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Apply to tell the story of one of five trails of Slow Ways

Ready for an adventure? Could you assemble a team and commit to verifying one of the following trails this spring? And then tell us the story of your experience? We have a small number of £500 commissions to encourage you!


– Assemble a team of three or more people
Apply for a Slow Ways Trails commission
– Share your story for our social media and Stories channel
– Verify one of the following trails in our core network

Choose from

Colchester – Norwich

Leeds – Hull

Chester – Hereford

St David’s – Swansea

Edinburgh – Perth 

Each route needs three positive reviews to become a verified part of our network. As part of this commission, we’ll need you to join together in a team of at least two other people to walk and review all the routes in the trail. 

In addition we are asking you to share your story with us for our social media and Stories channel. You can be as creative as you like here. Perhaps you’ll choose to create:

– a series of photos from your journey

– a short written story

– a podcast or audio recording

– an interview with us at the end

– a short video or several

– or something else

We’ll provide you with £500 to support the team to cover their expenses on this adventure, while you walk and review routes and provide us with your story. This will be in two instalments of 50% up front and 50% on completion of the commission.

The deadline for completing this application is the end of Sunday 17th February. The successful applicants need to complete their full trail in one go or in sections, by the end of March 2024.

Tales: A ‘senseAble’ walk with Deaf-initely Women

We all have one or more of our senses compromised and this walk was devised to enhance all the others. Read how we found different ways to appreciate nature, from framing to counting flowers with nature’s rosaries!

Our walking group was made up of members of Deaf-initely Women that covers Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire. The group exists to bring deaf, deafblind and hard of hearing women together. Our aim is to improve the confidence of these women through socialising and trying new experiences. 

Many members experience isolation that can be life changing and life limiting. Through surveys and feedback, the desire to get outdoors and go walking together had been very popular. Many women wanted to walk, though felt they lacked confidence or experience. Others just wanted to walk in company. As one member said, “Getting together helps us to grow in confidence and we gain support from each other.”

We met on a summer’s day at Peak Village, Rowsley which has free long stay parking, is at the end of the cycle trail from Matlock and is handy for buses along the A6 from Buxton and Derby. Crucially it also has coffee shops and toilets!

The Slow Ways route Bakdar two, from Bakewell to Darley Dale. The green square marks the portion of the route we explored

Our rendezvous was by the nature reserve, run in partnership with Derbyshire Wildlife Trust and located at the far end of the car park.  It offered a beautiful setting on the banks of the Derwent with a flower meadow and orchard that are home to a wide variety of birds, animals and insects. Kingfishers and dippers can often be seen along the river.

Our aim was to experience a taste of the Slow Ways network with our multiple senses. We wanted to stroll, to amble, to immerse ourselves in our surroundings. We all have one or more of our senses compromised and this walk was devised to enhance all the others.

OS Explorer map OL24 White Peak. Our route is marked in red

Slowing down

We decided to take the idea of Slow Ways literally; could we slow down the pace and immerse ourselves in our environment rather than cracking on along the route? Why not take time to savour where we are, right now at this moment? 

A small but perfectly formed group of inquisitive, eager walkers gathered at the start point under blue skies. Most of our group used lip reading and/or signing. We had a BSL (British Sign Language) interpreter and our photographer for the day, Marie, who is also on the board of Deaf-initely Women. 

We started with introductions, a round of names and a moment to check in with ourselves to see how we were feeling. After finding a word or two to express those feelings we wrote them down and placed them in a bag to be reflected upon later. How were we feeling? Like this: relaxed, chilled, thinking a lot, curious, happy, motivated, inspired, peaceful, ready, stressed.

We discussed what we would gather on our walk, ensuring that any objects, plants and materials were non-toxic or harmful in any way, only picking from areas that have a plentiful supply and being mindful about wildlife habitats.

As we began our walk everyone was asked to collect a few leaves of varying size and shape from the trees that we passed. 

We stopped to examine the leaves through a viewing frame (aka a bit of cardboard doubled over with a window cut out of it). We held the frames up to the sky and the light  emphasised the beauty and intricacy of the leaves.

Onwards over the Derwent

We crossed the bridge over the Derwent. The river has its source on Bleaklow in the Peak District National Park. Here at Rowsley it meets with the Wye flowing from Bakewell.

…past the past

We passed the Peacock Hotel, just before our turn into Church Lane. Originally a Manor House, it was built in 1652 which makes the spring opposite a relative newcomer, erected in 1841.

this way…

…on past the farm

Now we were clear of the houses with a long steady climb ahead. It was a wide path with generous wild verges alongside it.

A ‘smorgasbord of botanical delights’

To focus on something other than the gradient, each woman received a string threaded with beads. Every time a different flower was spotted, a bead was moved along the string.

Nature’s rosary is an easy way to keep count.

And what a difference it made. No one noticed the hill, being engrossed in the flora along the track. A smorgasbord of botanical delights was discovered with names that tickle the tongue; red campion, knapweed, meadow pea-vine, self heal, hedge parsley, meadow cranesbill, herb robert, nipplewort, hawksbeard, and rosebay willowherb amongst them. So many beautiful flowers that can be easily overlooked.

There was a real joy and delight in noticing yet another bloom and sharing it with someone nearby. Everyone spotted at least 15 different species.

That’s a lot of flowers!

The climb paid off with a fine view opening up.

Scent and colour

Now, an opportunity for a rest and time to explore our immediate environs further. At this point we all had a sheet of paper to make a pallet of different colours from the landscape. Using the simple technique of rubbing different materials onto the paper produced so many different sensory responses. The texture of the material and how it changed as it was used, the scent, the colour.

It was a really engrossing exercise and the results were unexpected, surprising and delightful. We had colours of the earth, flowers, grasses, bark, moss and stone.

Observing and absorbing

Beautifully rested, under darkening skies we moved on. The next stretch of the way, there was an invitation to walk without communicating with each other, to be alone yet held in the safety of the group.

As deaf and hard of hearing women, when we talk we’re always looking at the person we’re conversing with, either to lip read or sign, so it’s easy to walk through somewhere without really being there… and we do love to talk!

For a quarter of a mile or so we took time to amble, alone, absorbed in the smells, sights, sensations of our surrounds. Everyone naturally slowed right down. No prompting, just a desire to observe, to feel, to be. 

Along this stretch we were asked to gather anything that caught our eye or called out to be noticed.

Time to get creative

We were rather proud of ourselves!

A celebratory cuppa

Then, an opportunity to drink in the view and a drink of another sort. So that we could taste our surroundings, we collected meadowsweet and steeped it in hot water.

Meadowsweet tea is said to provide flavours of ‘hay, vanilla and almonds’. Having said that, I don’t think it was everyone’s cup of tea, so to speak! 

A tea break provided another opportunity for a pause and a half-way check in. How are you feeling now? What have you enjoyed so far? The answers were: fresh air, colours, ‘tasting tea’, really ’seeing’ things, the company, different flowers, beautiful flowers, collection of plants , sharing, blessed, excited, relaxed, meeting everyone, ‘I want to come back again’, energised, nature, views, surprises, happy, mindful, connection, flowers flowers flowers, grateful, collage from nature.

A promise to return

We were now at the highest point of the walk. It was all downhill from here.

After a few hundred yards we came to the point where our path diverged from the Slow Way. In the distance we could make out Haddon Hall and beyond to Bakewell where the Bakdar two route heads. At this point there was an affirmation from a couple of members that they would ‘return and do the whole thing’.

Maybe it was the sadness of leaving the Slow Way route that made the heavens begin to weep. The rain that had threatened for a while came in to greet us.

There was a general consensus to skip the next activity (though I’m sure we would have created wondrous poetry about the aged ash tree) and keep heading back, especially as bellies were rumbling and time was a-ticking and oh yes, it was raining. The showers came and went. We completed our circuit and were back at our starting point and only ever so slightly soggy. A final check in though saw us feeling like this:

Hungry, enjoyed this morning, happy happy, happy with company, ‘I would like to do one again’, invigorating, feeling very refreshed, new blooms seen, sense of achievement, appreciative of nature, good exercise, great day!, thank you so much, a wonderful morning, enjoyed the morning, blessed, hungry feeling ready for lunch and thankful.

…and that’s not a bad way to leave things. Senses stimulated, satisfied yet still keen for more.

 I sense that more Slow Ways will be enjoyed in the future.

Deaf-initely are a group of deaf and hard of hearing women from the Midlands who share a common love of being outdoors. They aim to walk a new route as a group, supporting deaf and hard of hearing women in sensory-exploration of new areas and activities along the way. In doing so they challenge themselves physically, emotionally, geographically and creatively. By sharing their experiences through this project, they hope to encourage others to test their boundaries and experience their walks with a new perspective.

Rachel Murray is, in amongst other things, a storyteller and passionate about walking. She is often to be seen wandering in the Derbyshire Dales muttering stories to the wind and the odd sheep. She tells stories in all manner of places; from caves to castles, care homes to cafes and schools to shopping centres.

Last year we launched ‘Tales from a Slow Way’, a community stories initiative that enabled us to commission creatives and community groups to work together to produce original stories and content situated around Slow Ways walking routes. Each award included a donation to the organisation as well as a project fee to the creative.

Together, the awarded projects map the sheer diversity of walkers across the UK and highlight the importance of forging new paths.

Click here to find out more about our Tales from a Slow Ways project! Why not sign up to walk and review Slow Ways. You can also find and follow us on InstagramTwitter and Facebook

Announcing the Big Slow Ways Challenge 2024

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Join us for a year of adventures and get rewards for passing milestones!

We’re very excited to be launching the Big Slow Ways Challenge 2024.

Challenge yourself to complete 50k, 100k, 250k or 500k of Slow Ways in 2024!

Make yourself proud – do it for your body, your mind, your country! Walk it, run it, hike it or wheel it, it’s up to you.

Find out more and sign-up here.

How to do the Big Slow Ways Challenge

You can do the challenge:

  • over 50k, 100k, 250k or 500k
  • in a day, weekend, week, month or year
  • solo, in a group or team
  • by walking, running, wheeling or yomping
  • for yourself or for a cause
  • to fundraise for Slow Ways or just for the sake of it
  • and help champion the national walking network!

Do it for the fun of it or fundraise for Slow Ways to support our work at the same time. 

Supporting Slow Ways will help address many challenges people are facing in the country while bringing people together and giving people joy. We know the national walking network we are developing will boost people’s health, wellbeing and happiness. We are connecting people and communities, saving people money, enabling climate action, nurturing culture, and helping people get from A to B. 

You can blend the Big Slow Ways Challenge with others challenges too. Doing a 1000 Mile Challenge, counting steps or training for an event? Why not do the Slow Ways Challenge at the same time? Find out more and sign up here.

As well as helping with our mission to create the national walking network you’ll be able to claim exclusive Slow Ways snail badges as you hit your milestones. And the first 50 people to reach 100K will receive a free Slow Ways t-shirt.