The kit list

What we carried,
and what carried us.

Two crossings, four people, and one strong opinion per item. The honest headline: with a luggage transfer moving the main bags, you need far less than the internet says you do. Here is what actually earned its place over 190 miles, and what did not.

The printable packing list, per person →

Kept every mile

Earned its place

Waterproof trail running shoes

The single best decision of the whole trip. Tested for months on rough Oregon and Alaska ground before we trusted them, then worn for all 190 miles. Light, fast-drying, and kind to feet doing back-to-back big days. The one opponent they never beat was Nine Standards bog, but nothing beats Nine Standards bog. The bog wins. Budget for that.

Rubber rainwear, and we mean rubber

The controversial one, stated plainly: for this walk's speciality of constant all-day drizzle, ordinary breathable shells eventually wet out and stop being rain gear. They are built for showers with intermissions, and England does not do intermissions. Two answers actually work. The affordable one is a lightweight rubberised jacket (Columbia, Helly Hansen and others make them); the test is simple, it must keep the wet out and never soak through. The expensive one is the newest dry-suit-grade Gore-tex, which genuinely does breathe and genuinely does not wet out, at a price that will make you sit down. Either way, rain trousers too, on before you are wet, not after.

Layers, not outfits

A base layer, a warm layer, a shell, repeated. Mornings on the tops were cold enough for everything at once and afternoons warm enough for none of it, sometimes within the same hour. Anything that only works as an outfit stayed in the bag and sulked.

Paper map, compass, and the GPX offline

Waymarking stops above the fell wall in the Lakes and the moors offer you weather instead of signposts. We carried the route on our phones with maps downloaded for offline use, plus a paper map and compass for the day the phones give up. Use all of it at every junction that feels wrong.

Power bank and spare batteries

Phones doing GPS and 1,400 photographs do not last a walking day. One decent power bank per pair of walkers, topped up every night, and spare batteries for anything that takes them. In the evening bag, add one universal power adapter with a bank of USB and USB-C ports, plus the right cord for every device: England's sockets are their own species, B&B and hostel rooms ration them, and one adapter charging everything from a single wall socket keeps the family peace.

Blister kit, used early

Tape the hot spot when it is a hot spot, not when it is a blister. Plasters, tape, and the discipline to actually stop and deal with it bought us thirteen walking days with feet still on speaking terms.

Packed lunch capacity

Room in every day pack for a full packed lunch, water, and emergency snacks, because whole stages pass with no food between villages. The bag of cherries that hauled us up to Grisedale Tarn counts as gear. Fight us.

Dry bags inside the packs

Rain covers flap and lie. A couple of dry bags (or honest bin liners) inside the pack kept the spare layers and electronics dry on the days the sky really committed.

One sling, left arm

Not on the official kit lists, but our daughter walked the entire eastern half with her freshly broken arm in one, so it earns its line. It kept the arm steady for a hundred miles of moor. She would like it noted that she was still faster than at least one of us.

Sent home or never missed

Left behind, happily

Boots

The great heresy. With light day packs and tested trail runners we never missed them, and neither did our feet at mile fifteen. If you carry a heavy pack the maths changes, but we did not, because Packhorse carried it for us.

The 'just in case' pile

Second fleece, third trousers, town shoes, the book you will absolutely read. The luggage transfer moves it, but you still have to live out of it every night. Half of what we brought in 2022 stayed in the duffel the whole week, and it did not make the 2024 packing list.

Anything that cannot fly carry-on

An airline mislaid one of our packs before we had even reached Iceland, which converted us instantly to the church of carry-on. Everything you need to walk (shoes, shells, layers, medication) rides in the cabin with you. The airline can lose the spare socks.

An umbrella

Brought in a moment of optimism. On a fell top in wind, an umbrella is not rain gear, it is a kite with pretensions. It went home.

This is what worked for one family carrying day packs in June and July, with Packhorse moving the big bags between beds. Camping, winter, or carrying everything yourself is a different sport with a different list. For the tick-as-you-pack version, print the per-person packing list; for how the days themselves went, the journal is all evidence.