
Well butter my crumpet, 2026 is shaping up to be an adventurous one.
Not just because I want it to be a year to remember, but because I’m trying to kill off two ideas that get repeated so often they’ve started masquerading as facts:
a) That having young kids is the end of adventurous living
b) That the UK is somehow a soggy waiting room you pass through on the way to “real” adventure elsewhere
Both are total bollocks.
Children didn’t end adventure, they edited it. Ruthlessly. They removed spontaneity; those last-minute decisions that begin with “weather looks peachy tomorrow, fancy it?” and end with a sore arse and chafing.
What they replaced it with however is something far better. Adventure has become about guiding them into the things that bring me joy; teaching them how to sleep outside, move through landscapes, get lost (a bit), and feel competent in the world. That shift from consumer to custodian is one of the great, under-sold privileges of parenthood.
Now, the UK.
In 2024 I moved back after 16 years of gallivanting overseas, much of it in Australia, a country that doesn’t so much offer adventure as drip-feed it directly into your veins. Somewhere along the way I’d convinced myself that serious adventure required a long-haul flight and a passport, but turns out I was spectacularly wrong.
The Plan
The British Isles are absolutely stacked with adventure and (as per my recent guide to making 2026 a year of adventure) we’ve brainstormed it, mapped it, and calendarised this as a family. I now have twelve adventures I’m aiming to do with my kids this year. They:
are all overnight trips within 2 hours of my front door (bar two)
require different modes of transport
all involve my kids, occasionally my patient wife
and, depending on timing and appetite, one of them could involve you (see June)
Weather, illness, and life being life mean the chances of all this going to plan are slim. But the point here is commitment: our future selves don’t need more intentions, we need dates!
So here are mine.
Take what you like and adapt it to your patch and appetite for adventure. If it sparks even one plan this year, it’s done its job. Your kids aren’t keeping score but they are watching for effort. So show up. Wing it. Repeat.
January
Off-Grid Cabin Escape
📍Brecon Beacons National Park
Two winter nights in a remote Unyoked cabin: no wifi, a wood-fired heater, books, board games, and a pizza oven outside churning out Brydon specials. We’re kicking the year off with a proper dadventure digital detox with some cold-weather family exploration (and hibernation) in the Welsh hills.
February
Hike and Camp
📍Peak District or Lake District National Park
Eyeing up an overnighter during half term. Details tbc

When the elbows are above the head, you know he means business
March
Train & Bikepacking Adventure
📍New Forest National Park
My son is utterly bewitched by trains (he’ll soon learn) whereas my poison is bikepacking. We’ll catch the “Why Is This So Damn Expensive” Line to Brockenhurst, roll straight into the New Forest and ride a gentle two-day loop on quiet gravel tracks among wandering ponies. Camp out in the woods, roll back a different way.
April
Road Trip Around Ireland
📍Ireland
We’re maximising the Easter school by catching the ferry to Ireland and committing to a full circumnavigation. With family and friends anchoring the map at the bottom (Bantry), top (Ballycastle) and in Dublin, it’d be rude not to connect the dots. They’ll be castles, epic landscapes and as many pubs as I can reasonably get away with in between.
May
Canal Boating
📍Llangolan Canal, North Wales & Shropshire
The canal boat scene in the UK is surprisingly lively, and we’re loching in 5 slow days with pals, rotating captains aged 6 to 43. Drift down the Llangollen Canal, creep across the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct and moor up near pubs when daylight or basic competence runs out.
June
Outside Kids Wild Camp
📍South/South West UK
We’re taking Outside Kids offline and into the woods for a weekend in early June. A handful of dads, their kids, and a shared patch of ground at CampWild (exact location TBC). Think 15–20 people, tents tucked into the trees, fire-cooked grub, kids feral in the best possible way, and dads recalibrating around firelight while putting the world gently to rights.
👉 Register your interest by replying to this email and telling me you’re keen (include age of kids).
July
Canoe Camping on the Wye River
📍Wye Valley
This one’s in my backyard, and given it’s one of the best canoe locations in the country it would be borderline insulting not to paddle it in 2026. The plan is a 3 day/2 night drift down the River Wye, launching at Hoarwithy and taking out at Symonds Yat, moving at river speed with everything we need to start a revolution lashed to the boat.

Hot rod
August
Tandem Bikepacking Trip to Snowdown
📍Wales
I bought a pink tandem last year with a silly idea: ride from my front door to the top of Snowdon with my son on the back. We’ll follow the Lôn Las Cymru (Route 8) the length of Wales, wild camping as we go and arguing about who’s not pulling their weight. At Snowdon we’ll ditch the bikes and climb to Yr Wyddfa (1,085m), the highest point in Wales. This is the big one for 2026.
September
Paddleboarding the Gower
📍Gower Peninsula
We’ll camp out at this magical nook of the UK to catch the tail end of summer, when the crowds thin out and the sea still feels friendly. The Gower is made for coastal paddling: long beaches, dramatic cliffs, hidden coves, and slow exploration at water level.
October
Wild Camping in the Black Mountains
📍Brecon Beacons National Park
An overnight hike into the quieter reaches of the Black Mountains where we’ll climb onto the plateau and pitch near Rhos Dirio. Rolling ridgelines, flattened summits, big skies, and hopefully noone else. This is a night earned the old-fashioned way before winter sets in.

Last time I stayed in a bothy was on the Isle of Skye with my 3 brothers. Max mistakenly packed Mum’s jacket instead of his sleeping bag.
November
Sleep in a Bothy
📍Exact location tbc
A cold-weather classic, we’ll vanish into the hills to sleep in one of the no-frills stone shelters. Scattered across the wildest corners of Wales, England and Scotland, the same deal applies to all - it’s a roof over the head with a log burner and a bothy book full of questionable poetry.
December
Winter Survival Mission
📍Devon
We’ll close the year by deliberately making life harder than it needs to be. A winter survival mission in the Devon woods: sleeping out, building shelters, making fire, and seeing what actually matters once comfort is removed from the equation.
