Picture this: you’re lacing up your boots, the map spread before you like a cryptic treasure hunt. But instead of poring over contour lines and compass bearings, you ask, “Hey ChatGPT, can you plan the best adventurous day out in the Lake District?”
Suddenly, your planning has gone from poring over guidebooks to a digital Q&A with an all-knowing, non-hiking algorithm.
It’s a bit like asking a robot to pick the perfect campfire spot – can an AI that’s never felt the sting of nettles or the thrill of a summit really nail the soul of an outdoor adventure? Or will it send you straight into a bog with a cheerful “happy hiking”?
In this age of digital convenience, where everything from pizza to partners can be delivered with a swipe, can AI bring the same magic to the wild? Or does it miss the essence – the unexpected detours, the wrong turns and the stories that make adventures worth having?
Let’s put ChatGPT to the test and see if it can earn its place in your rucksack – or if it’s better off sticking to spreadsheets.
Rise of the robots
Okay, confession time. Those first three paragraphs were written by ChatGPT! I simply prompted: “I’m writing an article for an outdoor magazine on whether AI can be used to plan an adventure trip – could you write me a funny, insightful and thought provoking introduction for this article?”
Rather scarily impressive, isn’t it? It’s certainly scary for me as a freelance writer. Are the robots coming for my job? And how is my budget-obsessed editor interpreting all of this?
Let’s hope he’s not emailing HR right now with the subject heading ‘AI vs Humans – how can I legally replace these overpriced, headache-inducing journalists with joyfully-subservient robots?’
Artificial Intelligence, or AI, is defined by IBM as “technology that enables computers and machines to simulate human learning, comprehension, problem solving, decision making, creativity and autonomy” – and it’s at the centre of one of the great philosophical debates of our time.
Is it a ‘hope or horror?’ for humanity, as The Guardian puts it. Will our mastery of algorithms lead to medical, scientific and technological breakthroughs beyond our wildest dreams? Or does AI pose an existential threat to mankind akin to nuclear oblivion?
Such far-reaching ‘friend or foe?’ questions are beyond my pay grade, but let’s look at a simpler query. Is AI a useful tool for planning hiking adventures? We shouldn’t think about this as some sort of outlandish, futuristic thing, like Iron Man barking verbal orders to his J.A.R.V.I.S. (Just a Rather Very Intelligent System) AI bot.
Rather, most of us already use AI to plan our adventures without even realising it. Have you ever let OS Maps’ snap function plot your route up a mountain, or taken a walk recommendation from Komoot, or discovered a wild camping spot through your Instagram Reels feed?
If so, then AI’s grubby algorithmic hands are already all over your hiking exploits. But, of course, there is something more overt about asking an AI chatbot for advice.
These tools – such as ChatGPT or Google Gemini – engage in human-like conversations, answering your questions with the enthusiasm of a supportive best friend in the pub. Ask a direct question and you’ll get a straight answer.
But, unlike a human with firsthand, intimate experience of that which they speak, an AI chatbot’s knowledge base is rather clinical and emotionless – it's powered by humongous datasets of text consumed and synthesised from across the internet.
Friend or foe?
There are big pros and cons, therefore, with these chatbots. The benefits? They are so quick and efficient. It can take literally seconds to get answers to your questions.
Unlike a regular Google search, which will serve up loads of adverts and numerous useful (and not-so-useful) articles to sift through, AI chatbots do the pre-screening for you, presenting everything in a bite-sized, easily-consumed summary.
And compared to the analogue approach – trawling through guidebook chapters and studying unwieldy 1:25k maps – the AI approach is unbelievably hassle-free and easy.
The cons? AI is not infallible. There are often hiccups and mistakes. It might suggest a pub that’s closed, get confused about distances between locations, or recommend a route that’s unsafe for the season or your skill level.
You’ll need to fact check everything and be careful to root out any errors. In general, AI is far more competent at providing static, overarching advice – basic stuff like the best cafés in Glenridding or the top waterfall walks near Ambleside.
But it will struggle to provide nuanced insights, such as details of a secret viewpoint or a little-known hidden bench – only humans can provide these personal recommendations.
You also need to feed AI correctly. If you ask a generalised question like “what are the best walks in the Lake District?”, it will spit out generalised advice. Prompt it in a fine-tuned way – “can you recommend a half-day hike near Keswick including one or two mountains with epic views, suitable for a beginner?” – then you’ll get bespoke tips.
I understand all of these opportunities and pitfalls as I kick off my AI experiment. I load up ChatGPT on my laptop, pause briefly to wonder if this is actually a good idea, and then type in “can you plan me an epic adventurous weekend in the Lake District with a full itinerary?”
With the efficiency and competence of a Jeeves-like butler, the advice is delivered quickly and professionally – and it seems to be good stuff.
A bimble around Tarn Hows followed by brunch at Chesters By The River; a blast up Scafell Pike with a night at the National Trust’s Wasdale campsite; or a jaunt along Cat Bells ridge before a pint and some pub grub at the Dog & Gun in Keswick.
It has produced a brilliant starter for ten, with enough inspiration to get my creative juices flowing.
Gremlins in the system
But the flaws are immediately obvious too. ChatGPT suggests Striding Edge as a recommended route, even though the forecast is very windy with a wintry bite – not the most sensible of ideas.
It says the Traveller’s Rest Inn in Grasmere is ideal for a post-hike pint after a Glenridding adventure, even though that pub is a 40-minute drive away. It got confused and obviously meant The Travellers Rest in Glenridding.
And, finally, it proposes Kat’s Kitchen as a coffee stop after walking up Latrigg – the only problem being that café closed in 2023.
After lots of playing around, I refine the search: “Plan a perfect Lake District day adventure near Buttermere with: (i) a medium length, not-too-difficult mountain hike; (ii) a great café for coffee and (iii) a nice pub for a post-hike pint.” And with that my perfect AI-advised Lake District adventure is set in stone.
With ChatGPT as my robotic mountain leader, I’ll start with breakfast at Syke Farm Tearoom, then hike up Rannerdale Knotts and finish things off with a beverage at The Bridge Hotel. I can’t wait.
It’s a great itinerary, but far from complete. I find myself doing add-on tasks – googling the café’s opening hours, checking the weather forecast, asking my partner where the best free parking spots are, reading Wainwright’s chapter on Rannerdale Knotts and plotting the route on OS Maps.
The latter is necessary due to the navigational ineptitude of ChatGPT. It provides me with a downloadable map, but it’s just a straight point-to-point line between Buttermere and the summit of Rannerdale Knotts, dangerously crossing Mill Beck gorge and somehow avoiding all known footpaths. Utterly useless then.
Miles of smiles
But, despite these glaring mistakes, my day out is superb – and I can’t fault ChatGPT’s advice. All of its recommendations hit the mark, even if I do freestyle slightly and add in a loop of Buttermere to boost the daily mileage.
The flat white at Syke’s Farm is smooth and indulgent, with a strong caffeine kick to jolt my system into action, and the café’s upstairs room is warm, cosy and alive with the chitter-chatter of (real-life) adventure planning between friends. No complaints there.
Similarly, my post-hike treat – a creamy, marshmallow-y hot chocolate in front of the Bridge Hotel’s roaring fire – feels like the warm embrace of an old friend. Ten out of ten.
Yet it’s the hike up Rannerdale Knotts that lingers longer in the memory. Ghyll Wood has a Tolkienlike quality to it, lichens draped over ancient trees, and the roar of Mill Beck echoing through the steep sided ravine.
As I skirt left, away from Whiteless Pike, the ridgeline of Low Bank is airy and breezy, and leads like an arrow to the knobbly tors atop Rannerdale’s summit.
From here Crummock Water stretches out sumptuously towards the verdant Vale of Lorton; Loweswater pokes out to the side of Mellbreak’s domineering flanks; and to the southeast Fleetwith Pike, Haystacks and High Crag hold precious Buttermere in a paternal grip.
I stand atop the summit’s rocky excrescence, next to the cairn, and contemplate the adventuring by AI debate. I come to this conclusion.
Adventure isn’t just about efficiency or convenience – it’s about discovery, resilience and the stories we collect along the way. AI might help you get started, but the heart of any great trip lies in the human spirit: the willingness to explore, adapt and embrace the unknown.
So, let ChatGPT suggest a route or a post-hike pint. But remember, the best adventures are made not by algorithms, but by you – boots on the ground, heart in the hills and a readiness to wander off the beaten path.
Sorry readers and Mr Editor. Confession time again (gulp) – that last paragraph was written by ChatGPT too.
ChatGPT’s top 5 Lake District adventures
1. Helvellyn
From Glenridding tick off this iconic Lakeland peak, looping Red Tarn via the twin scrambles of Striding Edge and Swirral Edge, before replacing those expended calories at Fellbites Café.
Not sure if you can trust this? Read our human-written guide to Helvellyn.
2. Blencathra
Start with coffee at Threlkeld Village Hall, get the adrenaline flowing with a Grade 1 scramble up Blencathra’s nerve-jangling Sharp Edge, and then toast your success at the Horse & Farrier.
Human-written guide: How to scramble Sharp Edge, Blencathra.
3. Tarn Hows
Perfect for a Sunday stroll, complete a “gentle but breathtaking” walk around the tranquil waters of Tarn Hows, before a hearty brunch at Chesters By The River in Skelwith Bridge.
4. Scafell Pike
Bagging England’s highest peak is a rite of passage – and this is the best way to do it. Take the Corridor Route from Borrowdale, a “challenging but rewarding” option with “incredible views”.
Human-written guide: Climbing Scafell Pike via the Corridor Route.
5. Cat Bells
Set up base at Castlerigg Hall campsite, then kick your adventures off with a classic ascent of Cat Bells’ sweeping ridge above Derwent Water, before dinner at The Pheasant Inn, Bassenthwaite.
Human-written guide: Cat Bells walking route.
Find out which of these hikes feature in our authoritative list of the best hikes in the UK, as voted for by Trail magazine readers.