At 83 and 74, they keep walking the world

milestone hikes – For more than 40 years, Barry and Louisa have marked milestone birthdays by completing long-distance hikes across continents. Now, at 83 and 74, they say the idea of stopping never really took hold—because walking, they’ve found, is built for lifelong momentum

For their 40th year, Louisa remembers hiking the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu—steep steps that left her looking at the trail and thinking, with disbelief, how anyone could climb up and down them.

Now, those memories sit beside a quieter, steadier certainty: Barry is 83, Louisa is 74, and they still plan multi-day walks across the world. They say they have no intention of stopping.

Their walking story stretches across decades and milestone birthdays. The year Louisa turned 30, she and Barry hiked the Muktinath trail in Nepal. At 40, it was the Inca Trail to Machu Picchu. At 50, they walked the Camino de Santiago. At 60, they completed the Coast-to-Coast across northern England. At 70, they walked Hadrian’s Wall near the Scottish border.

In the last two years, they have taken shorter treks too—up in the Ecuadorian Andes and among the silvery-spired Italian Dolomites.

They’re careful not to call themselves athletes. They describe themselves as people who’ve learned that as long as you’re in reasonable health, you can keep walking. What changes, they say, is how challenging each hike feels—especially when the terrain is unforgiving.

One trek taught them that lessons can arrive with the view. During their Himalayan climbs, they reached elevations of 18,000 feet. In contrast, the landscape near Hadrian’s Wall topped out at a humble 1,200 feet. Louisa says she’s still breathless when she thinks about how a simple setting of ordinary green fields. hills. and stones can hit that hard.

The couple also draw a clear line between long-distance walking abroad and backpacking. On overseas walks, they sleep in beds rather than on the hard ground. They stay in guesthouses, hostels, mountain huts, or B&Bs. They don’t schlep food or cooking gear because hosts serve home-cooked meals or they eat at budget-friendly restaurants.

Even the “environment” behaves differently depending on where you are. Louisa points to the Himalayan “wilderness,” which they describe as crowded with yaks, shepherds, climbers, hikers, and porters. At home in California, she says there are no shepherds when Barry and Louisa hike back.

Preparation, for them, is practical and unromantic. On the Coast-to-Coast, fellow hikers wore waterproof boots and gaiters—the Brits’ phrase for protective gear around the lower leg. Louisa and Barry weren’t that prepared. She says most nights she’d leave her soaked boots in the establishment’s “airing cupboard.” By morning. the boots would be dry—only to get wet again by night. Even on dry days, she says the soil was puddled and muddy. Now, she says, they pack waterproof boots and gaiters if they expect a rainy climate.

Mental preparation matters as much as gear. Louisa describes a long-distance walk as something like a job: setting small goals that break the day into manageable parts. On the Camino. they wake early and get a few kilometers under their belts. then reward themselves with a café con leche and pastry. They break around mid-afternoon to wash clothes, relax, and enjoy a discounted “pilgrims” dinner. They aim for bed by 8:30 so the next day can start early.

Friendships and conversations tend to form naturally along the trail, sometimes profound, sometimes routine. On the Camino. coffee breaks become a place to share the realities of the walk—admiring each other’s blisters and laughing at the saying. “Sus ampollas son sus pecados” (your blisters are your sins). A Brazilian companion told them her blisters hurt worse than childbirth.

One friendship, Louisa says, lasted far beyond the path. On the Coast-to-Coast. she and Barry met a British woman while sheltering in a bunkhouse—a small hostel—on a rainy day. Since then. the couple has gotten together with her in Britain. Spain. and Mexico. where Barry and Louisa live part of the year. Louisa says she loves telling people, “We met while walking across England.”.

At home or away, walking has remained their chosen form of transportation. She describes it as more than movement—something parallel to the work of her mind. Alongside her feet. she says her mind “treads a parallel path. ” rambling. exploring. and wandering. sustained by what she calls a timeless practice. She even frames it as belonging to a long human line: she’s following in the steps of the ancients. joining those who walked before her.

For now, the plan is simple. Barry is 83. Louisa is 74. They still go. And they still say they won’t stop.

long-distance walking hiking Camino de Santiago Inca Trail Hadrian's Wall Coast-to-Coast Nepal trek Dolomites Ecuadorian Andes travel habits friendship preparation waterproof boots