Possibly just like you, I was forced into walking. In most cases it’s a parent or guardian who takes us out at an impressionable age, compelling us to don the boots and head out for the Sunday stroll. At that age, you’ll either love it or hate it.
We didn’t know it at the time, but it was going to be the making of us. We’re the lucky ones. We’re the ones who toiled on our summer holidays through the bleak horizontal rain in the Lakes over another false summit, while others were sunning it up abroad. We’re the ones who went back to school with midge bites from an enforced Highland excursion while others came back with an envious suntan.
Those formative years for me, around the age of ten to my early teens, were when I caught the walking bug. And for most of us, it never leaves. Whatever happens in life, a love for walking is a constant and trusted companion.
Like a lot of teens, I took up music soon after, listening avidly, then picking up the guitar. Soon I was playing gigs. Pubs, clubs, venues, festivals. Fast forward 20 years and I’m lucky enough to call the weird world of being a folk musician my job.
I’ve always tried to blend my two great passions. Folk music, after all, has firm roots in the landscapes we walk, as well as the towns and cities in which we gather.
But this spring, I’m marrying them up properly in a holy matrimony of bogs and ballads.
The 268-mile Pennine Way is in its 60th year, and by the time you read this I will be celebrating its Diamond Jubilee by walking the entire path with a guitar on my back, performing 17 shows in 19 days along the way.
There is something of a precedent for this. Poet Laureate (and fellow Yorkshireman) Simon Armitage walked most of the Pennine Way from north to south for his book Walking Home, where he rocked up with poems and performed wherever he laid his proverbial hat.
My trip is a little bit different, with pre-booked performances along the way, so it’s less ad hoc. I’ll be strumming my guitar at the iconic Tan Hill Inn, the Old Nag’s Head in Edale, Vindolanda Roman Fort and St Oswald’s Church, all well known to any Pennine Wayfarer.
Other venues might be less well known to walkers, such as Dark Woods Coffee, a new up-and-coming music venue in the Colne Valley, or Wadsworth Community Centre in Hebden Bridge, a mainstay for folk artists in Yorkshire.
To book a tour on such a route has been tough, I’ll not lie. When you usually book a tour, you have a geographical outline of where you’d like to perform. Can’t get a show in Manchester? Try Liverpool. Can’t get a show in Horton-in-Ribblesdale whilst on foot following a linear route? Uh-oh.
It doesn’t feel like too much of an outrageous thing to do, though. Partly because I’ll be joined by a good friend who will ease the load, physically and mentally. But because it feels a very natural thing to do. Bringing folk music to the people on foot is what we’ve done for millennia. Song collectors like John Clare and Cecil Sharp did it in this country; troubadours like Woody Guthrie did it across the Pond. For all of them, the rhythm of movement created a connection between mind and body which fed the soul and the songs.
I’ve invested in a specialist outdoor instrument case which I’m told can withstand all weathers, thought I expect that late March on the Pennine Way will really put that claim to the test.
So, from 19th March to 6th April, I’ll be walking the route and stopping in at myriad of venues, to celebrate and champion this route’s 60th birthday – not just for its landscapes and its beauty, but for the rich and deep cultural rhythms which lie beneath its flagstones.
I can’t wait to share it with you.
This article originally appeared in the Spring 2025 issue of Country Walkling magazine.
You can find out more about Johnny’s music and his Pennine Way tour at johnnycampbell.co.uk. You can also follow him on Facebook @johnnycampbell and Instagram via @johnny_campbell_music – and look out for his regular route cards in Country Walking.