Thomas Ashworth
Read the route description like a local
Every good route description tells you more than it first appears. Before you unfold the map, give the words a slow read. Most guides bury the important details in the middle of a paragraph: a mention of "a steady climb through the beech woods", "two ladder stiles", "the path can be muddy after rain". These small phrases are the difference between an hour that floats past and an hour you spend wishing you had turned back at the car park.
Look for four things: total distance, total ascent, the surface underfoot, and the furniture — stiles, gates, steps and handrails. If a description mentions only distance, treat it with a little caution. Three miles along a flat riverside path and three miles up onto a moor are entirely different propositions.
Decoding gradient: what the numbers really mean
Ascent is measured in metres, and it is the single most useful number you have. Distance tells you how long a walk is on paper; ascent tells you how hard it will feel.
- Up to 50 metres of ascent over three miles is barely noticeable. This is the territory of valley floors, canal towpaths and old railway lines.
- 50 to 150 metres is a proper gentle walk with a bit of puff in it. Expect one or two climbs with breathing space in between.
- 150 to 300 metres is a day out with real hills. Fine if you are used to them, tiring if you are not.
- More than 300 metres deserves a careful look at the map before you commit.
On a 1:25,000 map, contour lines sit every five metres. Where they bunch together, the ground rises sharply; where they spread out, it does not. Watch too for the words "undulating", "rolling" and "level" — they generally mean what they say. And remember that a route can start gently beside a river and then climb steeply to finish. Read the whole line, not just the beginning.
Surface: the quiet hero of a comfortable walk
What you walk on matters more than most guides admit. A short walk over tussocky grass can be far more tiring than a longer one on a firm track.
- Tarmac and firm stone-dust tracks — the most forgiving surfaces, good for wheels and for anyone unsteady on their feet.
- Gravel and forest roads — usually firm, though loose stones can be awkward on a downhill.
- Grass field paths — pleasant when dry, slippery when wet, and often uneven where cattle have walked.
- Woodland leaf litter and roots — soft underfoot but full of trip hazards.
- Clay and chalk — famously slick after rain. In winter, clay can turn a gentle path into a skating rink.
- Boardwalk and purpose-built paths — often found on nature reserves and accessible trails.
If you use a wheelchair, a mobility scooter or a pushchair, look for routes described as suitable for all abilities, and check for a stated gradient, such as "no steeper than 1 in 12". Gateways are the other thing to note: even on a good path, the gateway itself is often churned and muddy.
Stiles, gates and other obstacles
A stile is a small piece of engineering with a large effect on your day. The main types to look out for:
- Kissing gates — usually the friendliest. Some are wide enough for a wheelchair or pushchair; some are not.
- Bridle gates — wide, hinged gates on bridleways and byways, generally easier than any stile.
- Ladder stiles — two to five steps, sometimes with a handrail, sometimes without.
- Squeeze stiles and step stiles — narrow gaps and single steps in walls, often awkward with a pack or a dog.
- Gaps and breaches — simple openings in a hedge, usually the easiest option of all.
Bridleways and byways are open to horses, so they tend to use gates rather than stiles. Public footpaths, by contrast, can legally include stiles and steps. If a route is described as "stile-free" or "no stiles", trust it — that wording usually means someone has gone to real trouble to make the walk accessible.
Distance, timing and the option to turn back
A linear walk is often the kindest choice. An out-and-back route lets you go exactly as far as feels right, then turn round without fuss. Circular walks are more satisfying when you have the energy, but they commit you to the whole loop.
Allow roughly an hour for every two miles on level ground, and add ten to fifteen minutes for every 100 metres of climbing, plus time for stiles, gates, photographs and standing still. Check where you could pause: a bench, a pub, a churchyard, a bus stop. And note any junction where a shortcut would bring you back early — knowing an escape route exists makes the whole walk feel lighter.
Matching the walk to the day and the company
The same route can be easy in July and hard in January. Recent rain, daylight hours, wind on exposed ground and the fitness of whoever is with you all change the calculation. A path that is lovely in dry weather may be a bog after a wet week, and a gentle slope can feel relentless into a headwind.
Before you set out, ask three questions: how much climbing, what is underfoot, and how many stiles? If you can answer those, you can choose a route with confidence rather than hope.
Slow rural living is not really about covering ground. It is about noticing it — the curve of a hedge, the smell of a wet wood, the sound of a stream you have to stop to hear. Choose the path that lets you do that, and the walk will give you far more than the miles it adds up to.
