Up early, down to the station and onto a busy train to Birmingham. There’s always that small moment of relief when you find a seat. This wasn’t a last minute decision; we’d planned to come back after enjoying it last year although this time there was a bit more intent behind it.
Partly it was the talks, especially the chance to listen to Steve Backshall again, but more than that, it was about reconnecting. With people we’d met before and with a few I’d only known through Instagram and the wider outdoor community. I was there with my partner and my son and that always shapes the experience. It turns it from something you attend into something you share.
One of the simplest parts of the day came early on, the British Orienteering trail. At face value, it’s just a challenge: collect letters from different stands, but it changes everything. Instead of wandering aimlessly through rows of exhibitors, you’re navigating with purpose. Zig zagging, adjusting as you go. It becomes a small expedition in itself. It added a layer of engagement something to focus on, something to solve.
And for me, it reinforces something I’ve come to realise more broadly: Experiences feel different when they have purpose. It also took us to places we might not have stopped at otherwise. Stands like TORQ, where we learned about UK made nutrition products, alongside familiar touch points like the The Duke of Edinburgh’s Award and the British Mountaineering Council. Even in a busy exhibition hall, it felt like we were following a route rather than drifting.
As much as the expo is about brands and organisations, what stays with me are always the people. There was Bev; someone I’d met at a previous show, working on the caving experience and a fellow member of the Austrian Alpine Club. Our conversation naturally turned to young people in the outdoors, especially with DofE fresh in mind, while my son squeezed his way through the caving tunnels nearby.
There was also meeting people I’d only followed online including “Big Man in the Woods,” whose content I’d been aware of for years. There’s something interesting about those moments: turning a one way connection into a real conversation.
And then there was Buffalo. Being recognised by the team there, after visiting their factory, meant more than it probably should have. Their kit has been part of my life since the 80s and 90s. Using the mountain shirt on early fell running days, their sleeping bags on trips to Jura and Norway. It represents something enduring: equipment designed to work, to last, to support real adventures.
That theme carried across much of what drew me in that day at the National Outdoor Expo
- British companies
- Well designed, functional kit
- Things that stand the test of time
In a world of fast changing gear, there’s something reassuring about that continuity.
One thing that quietly stood out across the weekend was how many organisations, particularly charities, were talking about funding challenges. It wasn’t always front and centre, but it came up enough to notice. There’s a sense that many of the organisations doing meaningful work: enabling access, supporting young people, protecting environments, are operating under increasing pressure. At the same time, the commercial side of the expo didn’t seem to carry the same weight. It leaves you wondering how sustainable that balance is.
Rather than the detail of each talk, it was the ideas behind them that lingered.
- Danny Bent: shared adventure amplifies what’s possible
- Molly Thompson-Smith: elite performance is built on consistency, not intensity
- DofE (Hannah Spinks): structure and challenge help people grow into themselves
- Spencer Matthews: do less, better and commit fully
And then on Sunday:
- Steve Backshall: most of nature is less dangerous than we think but it demands respect and judgement
- Lizzie Daly: observation is a skill and it improves when we slow down
- Jide Maduako: movement becomes meaningful through community
- Hugh Dennis: adventure doesn’t have to be serious to matter
If there was one talk that shifted something for me, it was Steve Backshall. Not because the ideas were new but because of his passion to excellence in everything he does and sharing this with others.
For all the noise of the expo, some of the most memorable moments were the quieter ones. Stepping outside to watch the synchronised swimmers. Sitting by the lake with a jacket potato, watching people paddle canoes in the sunshine. A pause from the indoor pace. There’s always something about being near water: a sense of space, of perspective.
Then there was listening to Backshall and Daly also reinforced something simple but easily lost: You notice more when you slow down.
There was a phrase mentioned during number of the talks “moments of thinness.” That sense of the boundary between the physical and something more reflective almost spiritual. Those moments tend to come when you are in the rhythm of a adventure.
There were also ideas that sat a little less comfortably. The concept of deliberately training in depleted states: low on food, low on sleep; to understand how you respond under pressure. It’s not comfortable, but it’s real. It echoes experiences I’ve had in the mountains: that resilience isn’t theoretical, it’s learned.
And then the recurring idea of untapped potential. It’s an inspiring concept although also a challenging one. It raises a quiet question: Am I making the most of what I have or just keeping busy?
A big part of the weekend, as always, was sharing it with my son. He has this calm, focused way of taking things in. Not rushing, not overreacting, just absorbing. Watching him engage with the talks, the activities, the people, you can see it landing in its own way. We do a lot together in everyday life, but weekends like this feel slightly different. A different environment, different inputs, different conversations. The kind of memories you hope stay with them, even if you don’t know exactly how.
One of the final moments was getting the chance to speak properly with Danny Bent and yes, getting a hug from someone you look up to does make the world feel like a slightly better place.
What struck me most about the expo wasn’t any single talk or stand. It was the spectrum. From elite performance to community running groups. From heritage climbing gear to modern expeditions. From structured youth development to simply cycling and laughing about it. Different doorways but leading to the same place. The outdoors isn’t just a backdrop. It’s something that teaches us, stretches us and at its best, changes us. And perhaps the most surprising reflection of all: Sometimes you travel miles to see people who live round the corner and come away reminded that you’re part of something, even when it doesn’t always feel that way.