End to End (Jogle)
950 Miles on a Kick Scooter: My Epic Journey Across the UK
There's something about human-powered adventure that makes me feel truly alive. And so, standing at John O'Groats in Scotland with Land's End 950 miles away, I decided to attempt something completely unique to myself: scootering the entire length of the UK on nothing but a kick scooter. No battery, no motor, just one push at a time.
To put this in perspective, I'd only ridden this scooter the Yedoo Trexx disc twice before the trip, covering maybe 5 miles total. The night before I started, I had to scoot my way 20 miles to the start line from Thurso to john O’ Groats and it was at this point i took a deep breath and thought to myself “this is going to be one long adventure” my legs were already tired. But as I stood at that iconic sign at the very top of Scotland, there was no turning back.
The First Push: Learning on the Kick
Day one started in a way id rather it hadn’t: uphill and straight into the wind. As I pushed away from John O'Groats, I remember thinking this was going to be a very long adventure. I did wonder if maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew. After 30 miles, my calves were absolutely shattered, and I quickly discovered that scootering is thirsty work. Luckily water is plentiful in Scotland with all the streams and rivers.
The Flow Country, Europe's largest blanket bog, stretched out endlessly before me. On a bike, this place feels big. On a scooter with no experience and not much speed to carry me, it feels like something else entirely. Every single push felt tiny in comparison to the vast landscape around me. The gravel roads seemed to go on forever, and there was something both beautiful and humbling about how insignificant I felt against that expanse.
By the end of day one, I'd covered 60 miles. Rain was coming down hard, with drops the size of golf balls. I was offered a lift, but that was never an option. I came here to push my way the whole 950 miles, and that's exactly what I was going to do. Luckily that night i managed to find a little fisherman’s hut to shelter from the rain, that didn’t let up all night.
Finding My Rhythm
Day two brought sore legs and the realisation that my body was going to have to adapt fast. But after a night of rain I was waking up and getting to experience just how beautiful the Scottish highlands were when the sun decided to show up. Pushing a scooter up significant climbs was incredibly hard work, but reaching the top of those hills and seeing miles of downhill stretching ahead made it all worthwhile. Going 30mph on a scooter felt genuinely thrilling, And got my heart pumping.
By the time I reached the coast and started exploring quiet forest trails around Loch Fleet, my mind and body started feeling like it was at one with my scooter. I was getting into the swing of things. The rhythm of pushing was becoming more natural, and I was starting to understand the unique way a scooter moves through the world.
Then Storm Amy arrived.
Battling the Storm
I had heard natter of a storm in coming but all I could do was keep kicking and for most of the day it was going alright, but then the rain started just as I started to head into the steep Scottish forests the terrain was steep and slow-going which meant plenty of walking. Wet rocks made it almost impossible to get any power down as my shoes would slip on the rocky ground. When a gap in the rain came I was quick to pitch my tent and get out of my wet clothes and into my sleeping bag for the night. That night, I listened to the wind howl through the trees with branches cracking and crashing down all around my tent. When morning came, the aftermath was everywhere. Fallen trees, debris scattered across the roads. I needed to press on, but the wind, the rain was battering me so after just 10 miles I had to hide out in a hotel to let this storm pass.
Building Momentum Toward Inverness
Refreshed and ready after sheltering from the worst of the storm, I made my way toward Inverness. The Kessock Bridge always feels like entering a different part of the country, and it did that day. Seeing inverness is always a welcome relief I had reached the Capital of the Highlands. Hills were everywhere, and most of the terrain meant I was battling gravity the whole way today. Plenty of reminders of that storm too, with plenty of downed trees.
But Now I was heading towards the Cairngorms. But first I had to learn how to ride this scooter through the rough single track, on a scooter this was a big learning curve, and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing, but it was hilariously fun. Just me, my scooter, and the trails. By the end of day I had made it to the cairngorms in really good time, and managed to find a great camp spot for the night. I needed this day i needed a smooth day, because tomorrow I would have a challenging day as I would be scootering my way to the highest point on this 950-mile journey.
The Cairngorms Challenge
The Cairngorms are one of Scotland's most wild and beautiful landscapes, but pushing a scooter through it felt completely out of place. The higher I climbed, the slower my progress became. The higher I climbed, the more the wind tried to push me back. The mountains on either side were acting like a funnel, channelling the wind straight at me. I genuinely wondered if any scooter had ever passed through here before. Bikers and hikers, sure, but a scooter? I'm not so sure. That made it special though. A completely unique way to experience this incredible landscape, one kick at a time. One kick after another, one rocky track after another I made it to the highest point of this entire journey. And after a little hike a scoot around the loch I would get to enjoy the rest of the day going downhill, for the first time on this adventure I had some easy miles ahead of me.
Crossing the Border
I finally reached the Scotland-England border. It was day eight of the journey, and this was a milestone I'd been thinking about since I started. Scotland on a map looks much smaller than it actually is. Getting a surprise gift of limited edition IRN-Bru from a stranger just before the border was the perfect send-off. For those that don’t know that is a Scottish delicacy. A very sweet sugary orange drink that no really knows what’s in it.
What struck me most after crossing that border was just how much more efficient I'd become on the scooter. My body had adapted. Each push felt good. Switching legs felt natural. I was actually getting faster and stronger as the miles added up. And now I was back in England and that means I was very close to the halfway point.
The Halfway Point Arrives
After nine days and over 400 miles, I got my first puncture. Of all the days for that to happen, it had to be when I was feeling sluggish and my body was finally catching up with me. I was able to patch it up quickly and carry on, but day nine was definitely the first day when I didn't feel great. A big thick cloud was following me over my head.
Yorkshire brought some stunning trails, and by the time I reached Dent and started climbing toward the second-highest point of the journey, which would considerably also be the halfway point. One very steep climb and I was there, the halfway mark.
Getting to the boarder was a great feeling, but reaching the actual halfway point felt even bigger. Over 450 miles done, only 500 to go.
The Midlands and the Breaking Point
As I pushed through the Midlands, the landscape changed. Old railway lines turned cycle routes, canal towpaths, endless stretches of grey tarmac through built-up areas. This was mental battle territory. The terrain wasn't particularly hard, it just felt relentlessly long. I slept in a church with bells ringing every hour (not recommended), pushed through fog-covered fields where I could barely see ahead, and felt my body starting to seriously feel the effects of over 600 miles in 12 days.
Every push meant a little hit of pain through my legs. My body was tired in a way that wasn't just about wanting sleep. It was about muscles that had been asked to do something they'd never done before and were now starting to say no thanks. But I had decided it was time to get a shower and a good night rest tonight so the more I pushed, the less time I spent stopped, meant the more time I'd have to recover in a hotel. So through those foggy fields I went, pushing toward Gloucester where I would get a hotel for the night. The last couple of day had been long but I was now managing to scooter around 70 miles each day.
The Final Push
Something shifted in my mind when I got past 700 miles. At the start of the journey, you don't dare think about the total distance. 950 miles? It's too big, too overwhelming. You just think day to day, mile to mile. But near the end, the numbers flip in your head. You stop thinking "I've done 700 miles" and start thinking "only 250 to go." Suddenly the end feels possible.
I was determined to smash my 75-mile daily record. Over 40 miles by halfway through the day meant it was definitely on the cards. With the wind actually on my side for once, I flew past the River Severn and around Bristol with speed I hadn't felt in days. And i broke my daily distance record this day with a 85 mile, and even after stopping i felt i could have done even more. But it was now dark and i need to rest because I was soon to be entering Devon.
Devon's Relentless Hills
Devon is where you realise what relentless actually means. The roads get narrow. The lanes become all you can focus on. And every single road seems to be called Hill, with gradients often pushing 20 percent. For a scooter, that means plenty of walking and miles that seem to take forever.
Day 13 was probably the hardest day of the entire journey. I seemed to spend most of it walking rather than scooting, yet somehow I still covered nearly 60 miles. My legs were burning, my body was absolutely done, but I kept moving. A kind stranger named Judith stopped me on a steep hill to resupply my pasty stock, which was probably the only thing that kept me going through those brutal Devon climbs.
The Final Miles
By day 14, I'd made it to Holsworthy and was so close now, just over 100 miles to go. I needed this day to go well if I was ever going to reach Land's End tomorrow. This was the day I would be climbing up and over the Bodmin moors From the moment I entered Devon the day before, I'd been waiting for this moment: to be in Cornwall and on top of the moors because when you reach the moors it starts to feel like the end is in sight it is really reachable. I was joined by Lee who kept me company for the final evening miles. We had an absolute blast cruising into the sunset, and by the time I stopped that night, I couldn't believe how much progress I'd made.
The Finish Line
Day 16, I could see the sea. When you see that coastline in Cornwall, you know you've all but made it. Just a few more miles along the coast and I'd reach Penzance, the last town in England. But before that came St Michael's Mount appearing in the distance, and with it, the realisation that Land's End was genuinely close. Just a few more Cornish climbs. Just a few more pushes.
Sixteen days. 954 miles. And there I was, just as I had done for the entire trip, pushing myself over that finish line in glorious sunshine. I could finally stop. Sit back. Take it all in and reflect on every single mile I'd overcome.
Sixteen days ago, I'd ridden this scooter for a mere 10 miles total. Now I'd just pushed myself across the entire length of the UK. Through the Flow Country's endless gravel. Through Storm Amy. Through the Cairngorms. Past Edinburgh, Manchester, through the Midlands. Through some of the most incredible places this country has to offer. Through rain, wind, fog, and finally, sunshine. Even hitting 85 miles in a single day at one point.
I'd met so many amazing people along the way. I'd learned things about my body and my mind that I never expected to discover. And I'd done it all on a kick scooter, one push at a time.
Taking on this route yourself?
If you want to take on this particular version of an end to end (JOGLE) as it’s known but can be reversed for a LeJog if you prefer then you can download the GPX files below.
The Route is somewhere between bikepacking and touring closer to touring I would say with some slightly rougher terrain here and there with a little hike a bike from time to time, mostly in the cairngorms. Any bike will do just not a full on road bike as you do go on some off-road.
