The most recommended books about walking

“For the beauty that remains in spite of everything.” (p 205.)

Two Lights is James Roberts’ illustrated offering of thanksgiving for both the transience and permanence of the natural world; for the grace of a glimpse of a wolf on a lonely highway; for dusk falling over a river; for the unchanging stars. Written at a time of great personal uncertainty and possible loss, Roberts writes about finding meaning in his relationship with wild things and places.

Two Lights speaks to me; I share Roberts’ experience with finding solace and hope in the natural world; in finding joy even in dark days in the minutiae of nature, the persistence of life in edgelands, the reclaiming of human-ravished places, and in the vastness of geological and astronomical time.

Two Lights is not blinded by optimism; it acknowledges and mourns the destruction of lives both human and not, but asks us—by example,… show more.

A formerly comfort-seeking Brit takes a very difficult walk around Baja and learns a lot about himself, and of course, about this “desert place.”

What’s not for me to like in a story like that? There is adventure and struggle, but also plenty of humor, and the thread that binds it all together is the author’s dawning love for a land that became his special place.

Mackintosh is still living much of the time in Mexico and has written five more books about Baja, burros, beer, and even dogs, but this adventurous paean to the peninsula will always have a special place in my heart, because I read it when I was newly in love with Baja myself.

I had fun learning more about Denver by walking. I decided to take 32 different friends or family members on the 32 different walks outlined in the book. It was a great way to spend time outdoors in conversation and exploration. It is fabulous if you are new to Denver or if you want to rediscover the city where you have lived for a long time. 

OK, this isn't focused on the subterranean, but it does touch frequently upon underpasses and tunnels and is a personal journey, passing through the parts of London where the 'Ginger Line' - the London Overground railway -  runs. Sinclair uses his experiences to illuminate the changing city, a jumping-off point for explorations of places, their past, and present. His journey is bound up with writers and artists of all kinds. He, like Ackroyd, has an eye for the bizarre, but Sinclair has a sense of danger, real and modern, while Ackroyd summons the haunting past.

At first glance, this appears to be a picture book about a baby learning to walk...but oh no...it is much more than that! It is a book about learning how to do anything - and a great book for adult learners (an excellent graduation gift as well). In this book, the baby has to face the following as they are learning to walk: support (sometimes what you think will support you, won’t), looking out for things that are fragile, pulling yourself up, and being ok if your knees buckle. Grip and pull yourself up, then find your balance. Remember to breathe, feel the sway, and let go. It’s common to fall down, are your socks bunching up? Shoes too tight? Diaper weighing you down? (Fix things before you start.) Make sure your path is clear of obstacles and expect some rough patches. Look toward where you want to… show more.

I have chosen this book because of the idea behind it.

After recovering from a blackout, author Torbjørn Ekelund was told he had developed epilepsy and would not be allowed to drive. As a consequence, Ekelund decided not to be held back by this and instead began to walk everywhere – through urban areas and countryside – looking for any path however obvious or hidden.

In the book that resulted from this new approach to life, Ekelund has not only written about his own experiences but tied them in to a wider meditation on pathways, from the physical to the metaphorical to the spiritual. 

A mix of history, philosophy and travelogue, what I liked about all this is the author’s choice to turn the trauma of an epileptic fit into an opportunity to walk, think, observe and feel more than ever.

In 1983 the 47-year-old fell runner Joss Naylor set a record of 19 hours 14 minutes for touching all 27 relevant lakes in the Lake District.

His astonishing time for this 169km run still stands. This was not on the flat, of course, but often over rough country, involving over 6km of vertical height gain.

He had to prepare his support team, find his own route and have witnesses at each lake in the days before mobile phones or satnav. The author walked the route in 2020 with a photographer and Joss in 10 days, still not hanging about for a man in his 80s.

Joss chose to donate his royalties for this inspirational book to the Brathay Trust, which helps the disadvantaged, match funded by publishers Cicerone.

I love a good walk! And so does Geoff Nicholson who sets out his love of it in a series of essays that make up his book The Lost Art of Walking.

These walking tales tell stories about pedestrianism in literature, art, and film; how it has been an inspiration to the likes of Bob Dylan, Charles Dickens, and Buster Keaton. But Nicholson also brings in some interesting perspectives from science and philosophy on the act of walking.

Written in a chatty, journalistic style, Nicholson is a pleasant and witty recontour to have on these journeys, he is informative and quite often irreverent, and there is plenty of humour thrown in to keep the footsteps light and the journey trotting at a good pace.

Wanderers is not a memoir. Andrews, who is a professor of literature in the UK, presents ten chapters on ten famous women writers who also walked.

I found it interesting to learn how some of the women left town before dawn to walk so that they would not be seen. Society at that time felt it was not safe for a woman to walk by herself. I was amazed at some of the distances that they walked; for example, in the early 1800s Ellen Weeton walked 35 miles in a day. 

I found the interconnection of walking to help writing and writing about walking fascinating. I will return to read this again and again. 

An incredibly ambitious walk along the south coast of England led this author to some startling, validating revelations about herself.

I loved going along on this journey to see and feel the world through the eyes of a person recognizing that she has lived her entire life with autism but not understood what that truly meant or how it affected her.

As someone who has a loved one with autism, I found this account to be incredibly beautiful, insightful, and instructive. But this account could be heart-opening and instill understanding and acceptance in anyone. Her attention to detail in nature is highly enjoyable, too, if you’re a science lover, as I am.