Growing up in the 1980s, one of my favourite books was Quest for Adventure, Chris Bonington's anthology of exploration and expeditioning. More than four decades later, its ideas continue to influence my thinking, my holidays, and my work in outdoor learning. In the book, Bonington defines adventure as a step into the unknown, often in the natural environment, involving risk, uncertainty and responsibility for one's own success or failure. Participation is voluntary, the risks

In the first blog Joining the dots: Towards a more connected outdoor learning sector the argument was made that the outdoor learning sector is rich in activity but often fragmented in its structure and relationships. The challenge identified was not a lack of commitment, expertise or innovation, but a lack of coherence around a shared direction. The question posed at the end was a simple but important one: if the sector is to become more connected, what might a shared aim loo

The outdoor learning sector is rich with activity. Across schools, centres, youth organisations, community groups and independent providers, there is a great deal of purposeful work taking place. Opportunities are being created, relationships developed, and experiences offered that clearly matter to the people who take part. Yet, when viewed as a whole, the sector can feel less coherent than this level of activity might suggest. Provision is spread across many organisations,

The potential closure of High Borrans announced on 30th June comes against a wider backdrop of closures across the private, charitable and local authority sectors. This is not an isolated story. It is part of a long, quiet trend that reflects a gradual shrinking of the opportunities available for young people to experience residential outdoor education, reflected in the number of centres that have closed in recent years. This matters, not just because of nostalgia or local pr

Imagine taking a boat trip down a wide river. Up in the distance you can see a bridge being built simultaneously from both sides, about to meet in the middle. The guide on the boat tells you that the right-hand side is being built by an outdoor learning provider, confident that the programme they are developing - perhaps a forest school initiative, a residential experience, or a targeted wellbeing offer - will bring clear benefits to people across the water. On the left bank,

In the world of outdoor learning, we often "just know" that our work makes a difference. However, as the sector faces increasing pressure to demonstrate value to funders, schools, and policymakers, relying on intuition is no longer enough. This is where a Theory of Change (ToC) becomes an essential tool. A Theory of Change is not an abstract academic concept; rather, it is a logical “roadmap” that makes the thinking behind a programme or service explicit. It provides a clear

A friend of mine told me during Covid how his company had been advocating going for a walk in the morning before working from home and then another one in the evening to bookend the working day. It made sense, and as at the time I was working from home as I wrote up my PhD, I did just that. I went for a walk and as a result I started the day energised and ready to work, and it’s a habit I have continued as I have become self-employed. A question of privilege As I was walking