Coast to Coast Path: West Cumbria

Sunday 23rd August 2026

In May this year I did a walk across the West Highlands of Scotland on a trail that I had devised myself in an attempt to do something that evoked the same feelings I had after doing the Cambrian Way across Wales last year. I failed. If I had been looking in England for a trail that has similarities to the Cambrian Way then I would have quickly thought of the Pennine Way and the Coast to Coast Walk, which both also take a predominantly higher level route across the country. I have done both before, in stages, but the Coast to Coast was made an official national trail this year, so it seemed like a perfect opportunity for me to do the whole trail, if only to see what changes have been made to bring the path up to national trail status. So, I set off for the Cumbrian coast and the village of St Bees and, after spending the night there, I made my way to the start of what is now officially named the Coast to Coast Path, however, when it was originally devised in 1973 by Alfred Wainwright it was called “A Coast to Coast Walk”. He started the trail from the sea wall at St Bees and forty years later a large marker wall was built near the sea wall to clearly show the starting point of the trail, however, the national trail technically starts further inland at the entrance to the car park, near a bus stop. The trail initially follows the coast around St Bees Head, but last winter part of the coastal path was washed away and so now, at the starter wall, a sign points you in the opposite direction to Wainwright’s route and back towards St Bees.

Before starting the trail I headed onto the beach to allow my boots to be ceremonially washed by seawater, while taking in the view on this sunny morning until finally I set off along the national trail. It is frustrating that I wasn’t able to follow the proper route for the first few miles, so I actually considered headed off along roads to the coast north of the closed path so I could do as much of the trail as possible, but eventually I came to my senses and followed the diversion past St Bees School and through the valley of Pow Beck until I reached the Coast to Coast Path near Stanley, which is already six miles into the trail, so this diversion is actually a great time saver! I am often guilty of pushing myself too far, when the most important thing for me to do is to simply enjoy myself, being outdoors and not rushing. The path descended to cross the railway line, under a bridge, which was not how Wainwright originally devised the Coast to Coast Walk. I am fascinated by all the changes that have been made to the trail over the years and originally it crossed the line by a level crossing until Wainwright received an angry letter from British Rail in 1990 demanding that this was not a right-of-way. Beyond there, after crossing several fields of rough pasture I reached a disused railway line where the national trail turns onto what is now a cyclepath. When Wainwright devised the Coast to Coast Walk the railway was still active, so he took the trail through the village of Moor Row, but this is now bypassed.

The cyclepath was lovely to walk upon being lined with tall trees and avoids the roads until eventually I came off, which was well signposted by the national trail, back onto the original route, following Wainwright’s footsteps past a cricket ground and into Cleator. After crossing the River Ehen an enclosed path brought me to Black How Farm and, after crossing a road, onto a forestry track up the only hill on this stage of the trail: Dent. I had been enjoying the effortless walking on the flat, but soon the benefit of ascending revealed itself in the views back across West Cumbria to the coast while I slowly toiled up the track. The national trail has moved the Coast to Coast Path back onto Wainwright’s original route, sticking to the track, before crossing a fence, to move away from the trees, slowly climbing all the way up to the cairn that is usually considered as the summit of Dent. There, with others also resting at the top, I had my lunch while looking at the view ahead of me towards the Lake District, even though it was spoilt by clouds. The descent was moved in the revised edition to Wainwright’s guidebook onto the southern slopes of Dent before the later, second edition moved it back to Wainwright’s route down the eastern ridge, but now the national trail has adopted the revised edition route so that is how I descended, down steep forestry paths until I reached a quiet valley with a pretty, little stream running through it: the Nannycatch Beck. After the effort of climbing Dent this was a welcome respite for me and a lovely walk followed, crossing many well-built bridges, probably thanks to the national trail.

Eventually I reached a road where a path beside led me safely into the village of Ennerdale Bridge where Wainwright ended the first stage of his Coast to Coast Walk, however, I was not done and on the other side I encountered a new path, built thanks to national trail status that led me to the shore of Ennerdale Water. There the national trail offered me a choice of going around the northern shore of the lake, or to take the much rougher, southern shore, which was Wainwright’s route so that was where I went. I was now in the familiar territory of the Lake District with the awesome high fells that line the valley further ahead, so, despite being very tired, I eagerly set off along the path. I had not done much walking over the summer due to the hot weather, which is not the best preparation for a long distance trail, but I was enthralled with this great, little path that runs beside the lake, which even includes a shot of scrambling over Robin Hood’s Chair. It took me a long time to walk the whole length of Ennerdale Water and then I had just a short distance left to finally take me to the Ennerdale Youth Hostel. I was surprised by how tough I found this first day on the Coast to Coast Path, possibly because of my lack of lengthy walking over the summer, but I was glad to have now done this first stage of the trail as I had not previously been through West Cumbria, though it is frustrating to have not been able to walk around St Bees Head.

Glen Roy and the Corrieyairaik Pass

Thursday 28th and Friday 29th May 2026

On the day before this walk my self-made trail across the West Highlands of Scotland had taken me to Roy Bridge where I now headed into a valley that I had heard a lot about but never walked through myself. Glen Roy has a fascinating natural phenomenon in it known as parallel roads where terraces on the side of the valley have been caused by a succession of lakes after the last ice age. It is a national nature reserve so I was hopeful for an impressive sight and therefore I decided I would take my trail through the valley. On the previous two days I had taken advantage of good weather to climb over two mountain ranges, over the Mamores and the twin mountains of Aonach Beag and Aonach Mòr, but, compared with those days this was going to be a much easier day with less climbing as I kept to the bottom of the valley, which I appreciated as those days had been very tiring. Although there was still not a cloud in the sky, the winds had picked up, which indicated that the weather was about to change, and rain was forecast for the next day, so I was keen to walk as far as possible on this day to take advantage of the lingering sunshine and leave as little of the trail as possible in the rain on the last day of my trail. Initially I was just walking along a quiet road with the views blocked by trees and even when I had a view all I could see was more trees covering the valley. 

When I eventually emerged from the trees my view down the valley was initially dominated by the eastern crags of Aonach Mòr, with Aonach Beag behind, but later it was their neighbours, the Grey Corries that dominated the views behind me. Later, the parallel roads of Glen Roy began to appear, like green lines through the heather around the side of the valley, but they were so faint from where I was standing it was difficult for me to see anything interesting, though it is still amazing that something like that could be a natural phenomenon. Slowly, I made my way along the single track, unenclosed road through the valley gradually getting fed up with walking along a road, and although the scenery was fantastic I felt disconnected from it at the bottom of the valley. There is something very monotonous about walking along a road, every step the same, whereas on a trail there is constant variety, moving up and down, left and right, but on a road it is extremely tedious. I took loads of pictures of the valley but none of the pictures look particularly special. They seem to be just of a valley. Eventually the landscape at the bottom of Glen Roy became wilder, with less farmland and therefore more appealing, distracting me from the tedious road walking. 

Finally, I passed the end of the road, slowly leaving civilisation behind, although the track I was still walking on was a clear indication of its lingering remains. It was now getting rather hot, which on my previous couple of days I had countered by being at the top of a mountain where it is a lot cooler, but by staying at the bottom of a valley, sheltered from the wind, the heat was immense. Even though I appreciate the views, part of me preferred the cooler temperatures I had in the first week of my holiday. As I approached the top of the pass, I came near a bothy while my track left me by fording the river, so I had to find my way pathless until I reached a faint path that starts from the bothy, and took me over the pass to the source of the River Spey in Loch Spey. Although this is a very bleak, isolated area, there are mountains to the south that are well known, rising to Creag Meagaidh, which I climbed in 2008. I would have loved to have climbed it again as the weather had been poor on that occasion and I had considered including it on this trail, but it is not easy to get to from Glen Roy. The path widened after passing Loch Spey and became easier to walk upon, but then after crossing Shesgnan Burn I lost all trace of the path with a faint etching in the grass being all I could find, so I turned north and made my own way to a building marked on maps as Shesgnan over tussocky grass and across narrow water channels until I reached a clear track which led me between a conifer plantation and the River Spey to Melgarve.

After passing these buildings I turned left along a track that led me towards the infamous Corrieyairack Pass, which ranks alongside other legendary passes in Scotland such as the Lairig Ghru and the Devil’s Staircase. It has its origins in the military roads constructed in the eighteenth century to keep the lawless Highlanders under control and I had never walked across it before so I was keen to include it in my trail across the West Highlands and to finish in Fort Augustus on the other side. When I reached Corrie Yairack itself I put up my tent beside the stream in a delightful spot and enjoyed a lovely, sunny evening there, but the following morning the promised bad weather brought low clouds and drizzly rain. I hastily set off along the track that soon zigzags up the steep side of the corrie and over the pass alongside electricity pylons that also make use of this pass while I fought against the wind and rain. Occasional gaps in the rain were brief and welcome, especially when accompanied by the marvellous appearance of a rainbow, but eventually the weather did begin to improve. The descent took several hours and then just when the gradient steepened I realised that I had missed a turning so I had to climb back up to find the faint, missing path. With hindsight, I could have stayed on the track I was on because that was formally the military road from the Corrieyairack Pass. However, I was following a route determined for me by the O.S. Maps app, which had dictated that the military road doesn’t take the most direct route so I had to branch off towards Glen Tarff on a rough path that brought me to banks of bluebells that were poignant for me to see, because I knew I would not see any more this year.

Soon after passing the bluebells I was confronted by a locked gate and a private property notice, so I had to take a narrow path beside the fence that led me around Culachy House, and eventually brought me to a road not far from Fort Augustus. When I started planning this holiday I had tried to devise a walk across the West Highlands that compares with the Cambrian Way, which crosses Wales. It was an impossible task, if only because the Highlands of Scotland is completely different to Wales, with fewer settlements, less footpaths and more mountains. I came up with a trail that starts on Loch Fyne and ends at the southern tip of Loch Ness incorporating the Loch Lomond and Cowal Way and parts of the West Highland Way before crossing some of the mountains around Glen Nevis, and then along Glen Roy and over the Corrieyairack Pass. Despite the poor weather in the first week, it was quite successful, but does it compare with the Cambrian Way? No, partly because it is shorter, but ultimately I think it had failed before I even started because there was no anticipation. Unlike on the Cambrian Way, I wasn’t excited about the challenge ahead of me or the prospect of spending two weeks walking in the Highlands of Scotland, and that is a shame.