A New Lease on Life

I’ve been feeling a bit down in the dumps lately. I’ve got myself into one of those of doctor cycles where you go to have them look at one thing and they find something else, then the treatment for first ailment aggravates the second or creates a third new set of symptoms requiring a new specialist and a new course of treatment. Before I knew it I had so many potions and lotions I felt like a walking pharmacy. In the end, I ditched them all and the doctors and let my body figure out how to heal itself.

What I need now is a distraction from all this ill health—something to take my mind off things and give me something to work towards. Jose finally came up with the solution—a walking holiday in the U.K.. We have plans to visit my mother in the summer to celebrate her 75th birthday, but beyond a family dinner, no further arrangements have been made. “What if we did a long distance walk?” said Jose. “We’ve been talking about it for years and it might be just the thing.”

I thought about it. I thought about the books we’ve pored over, dreaming about doing the Coast-to-Coast walk from St. Bees in the Lake District to Robin Hood’s Bay on the east coast. It’s a walk of at least two weeks, so probably beyond our current capabilities and available vacation time. Plus, I’m not sure if my mother would be up for it and as the primary purpose of the trip is to spend time with her, we can hardly go without her. If she could survive the grueling trip pedaling herself and her belongings up and down the hills and valleys of Ireland, she can certainly manage seven or eight days of hiking and so can we.

I scanned my books for ideas. The Lake District is my favorite part of the country, but during August it will be packed with tour buses and hordes of old ladies slurping melting ice creams. The same applies to the Cotswolds. We eliminated the Coast-to-Coast for time reasons and similarly the Cleveland Way on the east coast. Finally we settled on the Dales Way. The book said six days; we figure we could add a couple of rest days and stretch it out to eight or nine.

The walk begins in Ilkley and travels through the heart of the Yorkshire Dales, ending in Bowness-in-Windermere in the Lake District. On the way, it passes by Bolton Priory, a 12th century monastery all but destroyed under Henry VIII’s regime, goes through Wharfedale and Dentdale, passes by the three peaks of Whernside, Ingleborough and Pen-y-ghent and stops off in the picturesque villages of Grassington, Kettlewell and Dent. It’s a route through rugged countryside of limestone gorges and wide green valleys dotted with farmhouses and laced with dry stone walls. There are slow meandering rivers to walk by and spry babbling streams to hop. There are the classic feats of Victorian engineering of the Ribblehead and Dent railway viaducts and the vast blue expanse of Lake Windermere to cheer you home. This is James Herriot country, the inspiration for Turner and Wordsworth. It’s a place where the air is clear and crisp and often the only sounds you can hear are the distant bleating of sheep and the steady crunch of your hiking boots on limestone. If ever there was a place to restore one’s spirit, reconnect with nature and tax the old muscles as well, The Yorkshire Dales is it. What’s more a trip like this requires training--weekend hikes in the Santa Monica Mountains, maybe even a practice weekend in the Sequoias. Most of all, it requires planning, which means hours on the phone with my Mum, discussing equipment, accommodations and itineraries. Already I’ve pulled out my guidebook and a pencil and dusted off my hiking boots. I’m off to conquer the Dales Way and it’s given me a new lease on life.