Paws & Pedal

Paws & Pedal Burn survivor riding the entire UK coastline
on an e-trike with his dog, Taco. Hit follow and join the ride packmates.
(5)

Support us here: https://gofund.me/375556ce

Watch the journey here: https://www.youtube.com/

It’s likely I’ll be taking an extended break from riding the UK coastline. I’ve had two forced breaks in the past due to...
19/08/2026

It’s likely I’ll be taking an extended break from riding the UK coastline. I’ve had two forced breaks in the past due to technical difficulties and then illness but this time I’ve hit a wall and stopped because I wanted to.

We rode hard from mid-April from all the way up in Stornoway on Isle of Lewis and reached Bude, Cornwall, throwing in Northern Ireland for s**ts and giggles.

Let’s see what happens through the Autumn. 🍂

You can still donate though. I know you were wondering. 😉

https://gofund.me/fe8d7b9f9

11/08/2026

Took myself for a little walk.

I set off from Wasdale Head and made the long climb up towards Mickledore, the high saddle squeezed between Scafell Pike and Scafell.

Most people here are heading for Scafell Pike. They’re on holiday in the lakes and simply must climb to England’s highest point.

I wasn’t.

Just before Mickledore I cut away beneath the intimidating crags of Scafell and headed for Lord’s Rake.

Lord’s Rake is basically a huge, steep gash running diagonally through Scafell Crag. Loose scree underfoot, enormous walls of rock either side and plenty of hands on scrambling. Proper mountain terrain.

Scafell was one of the birthplaces of British rock climbing. Lord’s Rake itself is still very much a living, changing bit of mountain, major rockfalls have altered it even in recent decades.

Eventually I hauled myself out of the top with Wasdale below me. Wastwater, the western fells beyond and, out to the Irish Sea.

Spectacular.

From there I climbed onto Symonds Knott. A rocky high point just below the summit of Scafell, at around 959 metres. It sits above the Scafell Crags and has epic views across to Scafell Pike and the other big western fells.

I sat on Symonds Knott eating my lunch, looking across at Scafell Pike.

It was absolutely swarmed with people.

Hundreds of them.

All while, I had Scafell entirely to myself.

Scafell Pike is 978m. Scafell is 964m.

A lot of people confuse the names but there’s actually a reason they’re so similar. Historically Scafell was regarded as the main mountain, while the peaks next door were known as the “Pikes of Scafell”. It was only when they were properly surveyed that they discovered one of those pikes was actually higher than Scafell.

And so the slightly confusing Scafell and Scafell Pike remained.

Then came the descent.

Down from Scafell to tiny Foxes Tarn and into Foxes Tarn Gully, steep, loose, horrible scree and slippery boulders where every step required a bit of thought.

Down and down and down.

From the bottom of the gully I had worked my way back beneath the crags before beginning a ridiculously steep climb up to Mickledore, eventually arriving at almost exactly the same place I’d left a few hours earlier to head for Lord’s Rake.

Then there was nothing left but the long descent through Hollow Stones and back to Wasdale Head.

A big, tiring, spectacular loop around Scafell Crag.

An epic mountain day.

It took all the will in the world to leave the house yesterday. I was mentally preparing every excuse not to go out.

Utterly exhausted overthinking how to complete the coastline ride. The constant torment that I can’t really afford to stop any longer, but I can’t afford to restart either.

9.4 km | ⛰️ 1,100 m ascent | 117m per km | ⏱️ 3h 50m moving time

03/08/2026

Today I hiked along the Eskdale Trail and up to Stanley Ghyll Force. A 60ft waterfall that drops into a deep ravine where the humidity creates its own little rainforest. Lush, damp mosses and ferns thrive here.

From there I climbed higher to spectacular views over the Lake Districts great western fells, Sca Fell, Pillar, Kirk Fell, Great Gable and Slight Side all in view.

I continued to cross over Birker Fell and onto Devoke Water. Not a lake, but a Tarn. The Lake District’s biggest Tarn.

From there my phone died and my battery pack failed to work and I got utterly lost trying to find the right trail I needed to descend off the high ground down to the place I’m staying.

After scouting for the “gate” for way too long and becoming utterly shattered, I retraced my steps back to Devoke Water and found a more familiar descent.

Meh!!

Later I got to soak my bones in the brisk and choppy Wast Water.

Turns out a nice walk even ends in an uncomfortable slog. I should’ve known better with my luck lately!! 😂

For choppy dips, bone dry waterfalls and getting lost on the fells give this link some love: https://gofund.me/0af9bdfe8

You don’t have to be inspired to ride a trike around the UK coastline but maybe you’re inspired to get a trike to get yo...
02/08/2026

You don’t have to be inspired to ride a trike around the UK coastline but maybe you’re inspired to get a trike to get yourself about around town, ride on your local cycle paths, or to just get to the shops.

Well I bought this “as new” trike as a donor trike to my expedition trike and I’m not going to need it.

It’s only been ridden 25 miles in total so virtually brand new.

It’s for sale.

Delivery can be arranged for costs.

DM for serious enquiries.

01/08/2026

A morning wild swimming in England’s wildest and deepest lake, Wast Water under the gaze of England’s highest mountain and its neighbouring fells.

The water was a great temperature and it was a great way to decompress from the last week of strife and exhaustion.

The Lady in the Lake

Margaret Hogg was found wrapped in plastic and weighted down with concrete blocks in 1984 while divers were searching for missing French tourist Veronique Marre.

She was identified by an engraved wedding ring on her, which led to the arrest of estranged husband Peter Hogg. Incredibly he only received a four year prison sentence after being convicted of manslaughter.

Margaret had being having a three year affair which she apparently didn’t attempt to hide, often flaunting it to her husband. It led to marital stress and the story was that in October 1976 she became violent and attacked her husband during an argument and he ultimately killed her and drove from Surrey to dump her body in Wast Water knowing it was the deepest lake in England. The body hadn’t decomposed and had settled on an underwater ledge at just 34 metres deep.

The French tourist was found dead in 1984 at the foot of Broken Rib Cragg, on Whin Rigg having fell 1100ft.

There is another Lady in the Lake murder story associated to Coniston Water where Carol Park was found in 1997 after being missing for 21 years. Her husband was convicted of murder and sentenced to life.

Interestingly both these women were murdered and disposed of in the same year. 1976.

Now you know.

31/07/2026

Thought it about time I learned how to use this drone.

After long day yesterday travelling fromBude, Cornwall to Whitehaven, Cumbria we’re all set for a long rest surrounded b...
31/07/2026

After long day yesterday travelling from
Bude, Cornwall to Whitehaven, Cumbria we’re all set for a long rest surrounded by the Lake District fells.

We made it, not before losing my glasses on Bude beach, my wallet, complete with £100 cash somewhere on the train journey and my sanity.

The universe has definitely sent me some negative energy recently. I think that happens though when the wheels start falling off. Stress on stress equals mistakes and adversity.

I’m now wondering what I’m going to do with myself. I must find some work asap once I have my car back from the garage at the end of next week.

I’m also planning on life after the coastline ride and I want you guys to be part of it. I’ll have a platform soon for the most committed of you to register your interest in being involved over the next few months.

Donate here: https://gofund.me/ac8c64329

29/07/2026

LIFE HAS GONE ALL FLIP FLOPPY

BIDEFORD → BUDE

As you’ll all know by now I’m at the stage of this expedition where the exhaustion is really starting to show.

And today’s ride was a pretty good example of that.

After catching a lift to Bideford after overriding my hosts house by an hour the previous riding day, we headed over to Tidal & Trail who had very kindly stored the trike for two nights while I stayed outside Bideford.

Before we’d even left, though…

Taco decided to projectile s**t all over my host’s hallway rug.

Not exactly the “thank-you for having us” I’d planned.

Then, just as I arrived at Tidal & Trail, I looked down…

I’d forgotten to put my trainers on.

They were still at my host’s house.

Brilliant.

Thankfully, my host has the patience of an absolute saint and very kindly agreed to drive out and meet me later in the day.

Until then…

I rode in flip-flops.

Anyone who’s ever cycled in flip-flops will know exactly how awful that is. Every climb had to be taken gently because I couldn’t properly drive through the pedals without worrying about my feet slipping off.

Eventually we met in Bradworthy, where the safe handover of my very battered trainers was completed. And she could be sure I had definitely left Bideford for good.

Normal service resumed.

The rest of the day was actually lovely riding.

Quiet Devon lanes.

Rolling countryside.

More hills than I’d have liked after the last week…

But I suppose after surviving Exmoor, these are beginning to feel almost normal and easy.

We’re slaying hills now that would have worried me just a few weeks ago. The trike is coping.

Eventually Taco and I rolled into Bude, where we’ve been very kindly hosted by the wonderful team at Falcon Hotel Bude.

Then came another lovely surprise.

I got a message from Owen, who I’d first met way back at Ness F.C. Social Club on the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides.

Completely by chance, he happened to be in Bude at exactly the same time.

It’s funny how this journey keeps reconnecting me with people hundreds of miles from where we first met.

We spent the afternoon catching up…

Although I did somehow manage to donate my reading glasses to the Atlantic Ocean while playing with Taco on the beach.

Another thing lost.

Another reminder that my brain is definitely running on empty.

To top it all off, I’d also managed to get my accommodation dates mixed up for Tintagel, meaning I suddenly found myself needing another night’s accommodation in Bude.

Thankfully Owen came to the rescue, so an unexpected extra rest day has appeared at exactly the right time.

If I’m honest…

I think my body is trying to tell me something.

The mistakes are becoming more frequent.

I’m forgetting things.

Losing things.

Getting dates wrong.

I know I need to stop and properly recharge before pushing on.

Please donate to the struggle here: https://gofund.me/2c1db573f

📊 TODAY’S STATS

📏 Distance: 41.2 km
⛰️ Elevation Gain: 660 m
📈 Ascent Density: 16.0 m/km
⚡ Average Speed: 16.4 km/h
⏱️ Moving Time: 2h 30m
🌥️ Conditions: Cool and overcast, becoming warmer later.

Ride difficulty: 🔴 Hard

The climbs weren’t as savage as Exmoor, but a lot of ascent especially in flip flops!!! 🩴

27/07/2026

IS IT TIME TO CALL IT A DAY?

ILFRACOMBE → BIDEFORD

After a few days apart, I was reunited with my little co-pilot.

A huge thank you to my friend Sarah for looking after Taco while I tackled Exmoor.

Honestly…

I’m so glad she wasn’t with me for those climbs.

With Taco safely back aboard, we rolled out of Ilfracombe.

Well…

First we rolled down the hill from my accommodation…

Only to immediately face the rather irritating task of climbing all the way back out of Ilfracombe again! A five-kilometre climb before the day had really begun.

Thankfully, after the initial 15km the riding became much kinder.

We joined the route of the former Devon & Somerset Railway, much of which now forms part of the Devon Link and later the Tarka Trail. Where steam trains once carried passengers and goods across North Devon, cyclists and walkers now enjoy one of the country’s finest traffic-free routes.

It made for a welcome change after Exmoor.

Our first stop came in Chivenor, home to Royal Marines Base Chivenor. Originally opened as an RAF airfield during the Second World War, it is now one of the principal bases of the Royal Marines and plays an important role in training and supporting Commando units.

Coffee stop!

From there we joined the Tarka Trail, following the Taw Estuary towards Barnstaple.

The trail, inspired by Henry Williamson’s novel Tarka the Otter, follows the route of former railway lines and offers mile after mile of easy riding through some of North Devon’s most beautiful scenery.

As we circled the estuary, I couldn’t help noticing the old ships resting quietly on the mudflats.

One in particular caught my eye…

Les Vagabonde des mers, or the “Vagabond of the Seas.”

Like so many old wrecks left to the tides, she’s become part of the estuary itself, slowly being reclaimed by nature. Although I did spot a notice of wreck removal on a nearby post.

After Barnstaple, however, the ride became a little harder.

Not because of the hills…

But because of a relentless westerly headwind that seemed determined to make every pedal stroke count. Like riding through glue.

We continued through Instow, where the beautifully restored old railway station still stands as a reminder of the days when trains ran all the way along this stretch of coastline.

Across the estuary sat Appledore, its colourful houses climbing the hillside above the water.

Another place to add to the ever-growing list of places I’d love to return to one day.

Then…

My heart sank.

Arriving in Bideford, I casually checked my host’s address.

Only then did I realise…

I’d ridden past their village nearly an hour earlier.

There was absolutely no chance I was turning back.

After grabbing a sandwich while I figured out my next move, I went in search of someone willing to look after the trike for a couple of nights.

Thankfully, the wonderful team at Tidal & Trail Bike Hire came to the rescue, kindly agreeing to store the trike while my host drove over to collect me.

Crisis…

Averted.

If I’m honest, though, I think the last few weeks are catching up with me.

We’ve ridden hard since mid April from all the way up in Stornoway and finished off Scotland, Northern Ireland, North West England and Wales…it’s truly amazing really but…

I’m exhausted.

I’m making silly mistakes.

I’m feeling run down.

The chest is becoming a bit wheezy again.

And I know I need a proper break soon.

The challenge is finding somewhere I can stop for a 2-4 weeks, maybe pick up some work and allow both body and mind to recover before tackling the final stretch of England.

Reach out if you have any ideas of work and stays.

I’m also beginning to wonder whether these daily reels are sustainable.

They take so much time and energy to edit after every day’s riding, and I’m considering switching to a simple daily photo instead.

Whatever I decide…

I’ll keep you all updated.

Thank you for the spike in donations yesterday after my gruelling crossing of Exmoor. It’s not gone unnoticed. Here’s the link again for those with a spare few quid: https://gofund.me/62966fd4b

📊 YESTERDAYS STATS

📏 Distance: 42.0 km
⛰️ Elevation Gain: 450 m
📈 Ascent Density: 10.7 m/km
⚡ Average Speed: 15.2 km/h
⏱️ Moving Time: 2h 45m
🌥️ Conditions: Much cooler, overcast, with a strong westerly headwind after Barnstaple.

Ride difficulty: 🟠 Moderate

The hills were nothing like Exmoor, but the headwind made sure it wasn’t a free ride.

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Carlisle

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