Ride for George – Cycling the John Muir Way in 2027 in memory of my nephew

My nephew George was seventeen when he took his own life on 16th November 2024.

I have tried to start writing this post more times than I can count. There is no easy or positive way into it, so I will just say it plainly and get on with the rest.

George was my sister’s eldest boy, and we were close. We went on long bike rides and hiked up mountains together. We also visited many UK theme parks together over the years. As he entered his teenage years, George and I played video games online quite a bit, usually late and usually with him talking me through what I was supposed to be doing! At one point we ran a small eBay empire out of his bedroom, clearing out his old Nerf guns and Lego sets. The place ended up looking like a dispatch warehouse. Brown packing paper and tape turned out to be unexpectedly serious overheads for a teenager. He kept the proceeds and spent them on what he called his wardrobe flex.

He was thoughtful. That is one word everyone who knew him reaches for, and it is the right one. George noticed things. He was kind in a quiet, unshowy way that seventeen year olds aren’t always given credit for.

I miss him so much. His mum, his grandma, his sister and his friends carry it every day.

Martin House Children’s Hospice

I do not fully understand how the arrangement came about, and I’ve never asked. What I know is that Martin House Children’s Hospice gave my sister a chapel of rest, so that she could be with George and the rest of us could say goodbye properly.

They helped George’s mum, sister and grandma make keepsakes from his fingerprints and handprints, among many other kindnesses. They still sit on the mantelpieces at my mum’s house and my sister’s.

I have never in my life met people as capable of that kind of care. Not sympathy, which is easy, but the practical, unflustered, endlessly patient kind of care that lets a family fall apart in a safe room and then put itself back together. They were extraordinary, at what was the worst time of our lives, and they made it bearable in a way I did not think was possible when I first walked in.

Martin House normally supports children with life-shortening conditions and their families, providing respite, care and bereavement support across West, North and East Yorkshire. What they did for us sat outside that. They did it anyway.

I came away from that place knowing I wanted to give something back one day.

The ride

In spring 2027 I am going to cycle the John Muir Way, coast to coast across Scotland, on my own.

It runs 134 miles from Helensburgh on the Clyde to Dunbar on the North Sea, and it is named after John Muir, who was born in Dunbar and went on to help found the American national parks. It crosses the Kilpatrick Hills, skirts Loch Lomond, follows the Forth and Clyde and Union canals through Falkirk and Linlithgow, passes under the Forth Bridges, goes through Edinburgh, and finishes along the East Lothian coast.

I am doing it over four days, carrying everything I need on the bike, staying wherever I can find a bed that will let me dry my kit out. I will have about thirteen and a half hours of daylight to work with, which is the main reason for going in spring rather than autumn.

I picked it for two reasons.

I was born in Glasgow. George and I had years of England and Scotland banter between us, most of which I lost. I was in Glasgow when I got the call. There is a symmetry to starting there and finishing somewhere new that I cannot fully explain but do not want to talk myself out of.

The second reason is less romantic. It is the right size. Long enough that I will have to train for it and will not enjoy every minute, short enough that I can actually finish it.

Why I’m asking

My target is to raise £1,000 for Martin House.

Some of you gave generously earlier this year when George’s sister and his friends raised money for Andy’s Man Club. I know exactly what that took, and I am not asking you to do it twice. If you have already given, please do not feel any obligation here. Sharing this would help me more.

For anyone else, the page is below. Every penny goes to Martin House, and Gift Aid adds twenty five percent at no cost to you if you are a UK taxpayer.

One more thing

I am not going to speculate about why George did what he did. I do not know, and I am wary of the tidy explanations people reach for. What I will say is that being seventeen right now looks harder than being seventeen looked when I was that age, and that George was the kind of person who felt things carefully.

If you are struggling, or you are worried about someone, please talk to somebody.

Thank you for reading this far.

For George x