Munro Motorways …

Regular readers will know that I am a little ambivalent about Munro bagging, Corbett or Graham bagging. To me a fine hill is a fine hill, never mind whether it takes 50 minutes to climb or 40. I’ve never been one for lists. And is there anything more boring in the world than the debate as to whether a hike as been promoted or demoted from Munro status. On our recent Cairngorm trip Colin Ibbotson put it well. They should simply stick to Munro’s original list and ignore all of this satellite measurement stuff.

To be fair advocates of bagging point out that baggers do walk through some extraordinary landscape in order to bag their hill and tops. But sometimes I wonder.

On our recent trip Colin and I left Blair Atholl but turned off the main Glen Tilt run to take a couple of kilometres of tarmac to get to our first Munro. This tiny road was surprisingly busy with cars that kept zipping past. It was a lovely day and it suddenly struck me that these people might be baggers.

Munro Car Park

The Car Park and the Hill

From a distance the bagger’s scar on the mountain was evident, one of those mountain motorways that you can find in Scotland. As we got closer to the hill we came across a car park, full to brimming with the cars of baggers. I wondered just how much they were taking in the countryside around them, dashing up in their cars and then dashing up the line of three Munros before coming home before dark.

The path up to Carn Liath was in a pretty poor state. This was no properly engineered path but a track created by simply dumping loose stones and chippings making the upper reaches quite slippery and slidey.

Of course, Munro baggers have a great time and should be happy celebrate both the land they walk through and their personal achievements. But sometimes I worry about our commitment to sustainability and the land.

To climb these hills from Blair Atholl you don’t need a car! Leave it behind and walk during the longer days if necessary.

Stretching Exercises

My Alexander Technique friend Gerry Foley has recently sent me an article he has written about stretching, its importance or otherwise pre-exercise. The gist of this is that while many people feel that this is important — and engage in some very dramatic stretching exercises — that there is no scientific basis for this.

I thought some of you would be interested in this. The article also links to a paper published in the Journal of Exercise Training which found that pre-exercise stretching had no effect in reducing the risk of injury. A later paper published in 2007 found that pre-exercise stretches had no impact on subsequent muscle soreness.

Over vigorous stretching can, though, lead to injury.

The right exercise for the right muscles, Gerry Foley.

Return to the Sheep’s Head: Reflection on Walking in Ireland

To walkers Ireland is something of an enigma. This is a country that has some breathtaking scenery — mountains, hills and coast lines — but where access can be almost impossibly difficult. Yet this is a country deep in recession on one in which recovery will have to be based on a different economic and social model. Walking in Ireland last week shows just how much we should be grateful of our access here in the UK, despite its frustrations, and also shows just what the Irish are missing. [Read more...]

Learning from the Lightweight Heroes of Yesteryear

I’ve been thinking about those ideas that I had during the year that, for one reason or another, did not find themselves into the blog.

Before I went to the Pyrenees this summer Humphrey Weightman sent me through some of Hillaire Belloc’s writings on my favourite mountains. Belloc will be better known as the writer of nonsense verse, but he was also a prodigious hiker and explorer. There is a lot here that is really interesting and over the next few weeks I’ll share some of this with you. But I thought I’d start with some thoughts o carrying pack weight. These still hold true to this day!

I now turn to equipment. The first question asked by an Englishman about to attempt fresh journeys will be what things he must take with him from England. My answer is. Two things only, his woollen clothing and a pannikin. With regard to this last, the best form is one which I myself get from the Army and Navy Stores, and which is of the following character. The handle is double-hinged. and curved, so that it fits to the outside curve of the pannikin. A spirit-lamp is sold which just fits into the interior, and with it. a curved metal receptacle for methylated spirit which also fits into the interior. The whole is bound together by a strap, passing through staples upon the sides,_and through one upon the cover. The advantage of carrying this sort of pannikin lies entirely in its compactness.

Weight counts. Every ounce counts when you are knocked out upon the third day; and the third day-the forty-eighth hour of losing your way and of missing human succour-may happen to you oftener than you think. Weight counts even upon the first day. Weight counts all the time.

Now it so happens (why, I cannot tell) that when things are packed in a close compass they weary a man less than when they are loose and straggling, and there .is the further recommendation that when they are closely packed, there is less chance of knocking them about and hurting them. So this is the kind of pannikin I recommend. Note, that the people who know most about these hills, the inhabitants of them. carry no provision for cooking. But there is a reason for this which does not apply to the traveller I have in view. The inhabitants of these valleys walk from a house to a house, with the chance of one night at most in the mountains; they carry with them, bread, cold meat and wine, and for the night they make a great fire for warmth but not for cooking.

A person exploring at random, and liable to pass several nights in the open, must have the chance of getting a warm meal, and that opportunity will make all the difference if ever he finds himself, as he probably will very frequently, in a tight place. As to the woollen clothing, no one needs to hear the merit of that, and nowhere can it be got so good or so cheap as in England. Everything upon you should be of wool. except your boots. The differences of temperature are excessive, you are certain to be frequently wet, you will not have a change; good wool is, moreover, the substance that will wear least in the rough· and-tumble of your going. In this connexion I must speak of socks. Those who know most about marching, wear none, and for marching along roads it is a sound rule (startling and unusual as that rule may sound) to have the skin of the human foot up against the animal skin of the boot, that boot being well soaked in oil and pliable. There is no form of foot covering within the boot that does not chafe and blister the skin, if one goes a long way at a time, and for many days of continual tramping on end. That is the general rule, and in the French service it is universally recog- nized in the infantry.

So, save weight – don’t use socks!

Point to Point: The Routes of the Ages

The end of the year finds me pondering the nature of our ancient byways, the ancient trade routes, the drovers routes that have — for generations — helped move livestock from the high ground to the fattening pastures (and to market of course). Over the millennia these routes connected communities, provided them with an economic lifeline, bought news of war, of famine, of birth and of death. Today, many of these routes connect only walkers and riders. But even in this depleted mode the great trade routes are still functioning.

It was last week’s walk on the Portway that transformed me into reflective mode.

The Portway is an ancient trade route that crosses over the Long Mynd, making its way over high exposed ground so as to avoid woodland, streams and bog. This was a route that was critical to the local economy in Neolithic times. The route carried axes. Digs have discovered ancient axes many miles from their origins, perhaps not that strange as these played an important role, not in war, but in the clearance of the land and the promotion of agriculture. The Romans knew this route and in the middle ages it was a Kings Highway. According to Shropshire County Council the Portway is lined by burial mounds some of which may have actually been constructed as route markers. Now there’s a thought!

The Bronze Age saw an increase in the trade of rare and precious metals. The Portway was just one of a series of routes that are known in these parts as ‘ridgeways’. Of course, there are ridgeways elsewhere in the country and these performed much the same function. In the Iron Age the Portway, and its contemporaries, tended to provide important connections for fortifications and forts. These ridgeways are kinds of archaeological time capsules providing important information, and insights, into how our ancient forebears traded and connected with each other.

Over thousands of years their purpose changed again with many becoming drove roads as livestock led to a greater prosperity than the simple production of the axe. The Portway is one such route. A walk along its exposed flanks today will be made in the company of cattle and sheep and often free range pigs can be founded basking in the freedom and the open air.

Like most of you I’ve walked along many ancient trade routes and drove roads this year. In the Cotswolds the routes had much the same function, and much the same history. In the Cairngorms I followed age old routes through valleys or Lairigs that were the economic highways of their times. In North Wales most of the routes are now highways, but it is still possible to stride out on an old track as many have done before.

This year’s most dramatic trade routes were those of France and Spain, a border country that – everywhere – stands witness to age old disputes and skirmishes. Communities might live only a couple of kilometres from each other but the mountains formed dramatic barriers. Over there — on the other side — were men and women of different tongues, of different religions and beliefs, of different cuisines, dance, music and song.

But not all of these Pyrenean routes were dedicated to war. The Marcadau Valley, above Cauterets in the High Pyrenees, means market place. In ages past livestock farmers and traders from both sides of the borders would meet on these grassy banks for an annual fair of proportions — and importance — that we can hardly comprehend these days. Today the valley is mainly quiet, a pathway on the climb to more dramatic higher ground. I often rest here, resting warm feet in the ice cool waters of the river. This is a place of quiet contemplation and more often than not solitary thought. But drop down just a little, to the Pont Espagne and you can imagine the scene. First time visitors to the area are always shocked by the Pont car park, one of the biggest you’ll ever see on a mountain approach. Every so often the Pont plays host to the Tour de France, the car park being large enough to hold all of the paraphernalia of this most majestic – and mad — of sporting events. Next time you’re here just take a few minutes to contemplate ages past when the crowds were trading in more basic commodities.

There is something immensely satisfying in walking the routes of the ancestors.

Maybe you’ll be out this holiday walking the trade routes or the drove roads. Put an ear to the wind and catch an echo of the ancients.

Blogs: Words or Multimedia?

Robin at Blogpackinglight is the latest outdoor blogger to think about developing multimedia, video, material for his blog, joining Darren, George, Duncan and others.

There’s no doubt that much of this content really extends the value of the blog. Wondering just how bad the Lairig Ghru is? Well, you can see George walking through it on his London Backpacker blog. How do these new bits of gear work? How doe we put up a tarp? All of these and more can now be found via. YouTube. the new content providers are offering a really useful service — although I think Darren’s obsession with stoves is a tad worrying :-)

But, this blog will remain focussed on the written word. Writing is what interests me the most. I still find it the most versatile of media and the most expressive. In this sense this blog is a much for me as it is for you. Writing a blog is very different from writing a journal in that you are always conscious that there is an audience out there, even if you may not be expressly writing for it.

I know that a number of my fellow bloggers, like me, have to write a lot for their living. This kind of writing is more enjoyable and more instant than that which needs to be considered carefully, and in this regard it is often preferable to writing for a formal publication.

So, good luck to those of you developing the multimedia side of blogging. But for me, there is much still to be done that relies on the written word.

Recession and the Outdoor World

I’ve been meaning to write, for a while now, about the recession and our outdoors world, indeed, I’ve even pitched an idea for an article to a well known magazine (no response though).

Roman in Germany has beaten me to it on his Lighthiker Blog. But he’s got me thinking.

What is very clear is that the recession is deeper and more serious that many envisaged only a few months ago. Despite all of the nonsense that was written about this being a different kind of recession it is now clear that this downturn will hit hardest the same kinds of people who are always at the sharp end. For us, the recession will have an impact on in several ways. It will effect our ability to purchase and it will also have an impact on the choice that is available to us.

It is probably no coincidence that the increase in UK interest in lightweight backpacking has developed at a time when the Pound was very strong against the dollar. This has made it very easy for us to source specialist kit from the US. After all, our market is probably too small to underpin the kind of small, independent gear sector that has sprung up in the States. I wouldn’t mind betting that some producers on the other side of the pond have been surprised in the number of customers they have found over here. Just think about how backpackinglight.com has employed Chris Townsend to great effect.

Much of this flow will now stop. the economic conditions are hitting the US as hard as they are hitting us. I don’t suppose many of the very small, cottage style business (producing Pepsi can stoves and so on) will disappear. I guess that some of those companies that have tried to grow and push towards a more mainstream audience will suffer the hardest. This is not an easy time to finance expansion.

I suspect that walking is one of those activities that will suffer less that others, after all our core activity is free or low cost. Nevertheless, we will see changes that may have an impact on our world.

Travel, for instance, is becoming more expensive. Can I really consider that jaunt in the US next year? Europe is also getting more expensive. I suspect that guidebook companies will do reasonably well but they may see a significant change in the titles they sell. Guides to walking at home will sell in greater numbers. To some extent this a trend that has begun to develop as people worry about their own carbon footprints. I think some companies may have seen this coming, some of them have certainly increased the quality and the diversity of the UK ranges over the last year or so.

I’m interested in how this is effecting you, my readers, individually. Have you changed your plans for 2009? Are you prolonging the life of existing gear?

Tarp Beginner Weekend

No doubt many of you will have seen the long thread, here on this blog, that has been inspired by Colin Ibbotson’s articles on tarps.

As ever, debates on tarps are heated and passionate. Anyhow, if you’ve missed the thread, there are quite a few people who fancy a tarp weekend, a chance to try a tarp for the first time under the guidance of those of us who love sleeping out underneath a sinylon handkerchief!

Funnily enough, Bob Cartwright (backpackinglight.co.uk) and I have been talking about organising a tarp weekend for a couple of years now.

I think we’ve now had all of the encouragement we need and so I reckon we’ll try and find a date, and a venue, for sometime early in the summer (after the TGO Challenge is out of the way) when Colin Ibbotson can join us.

Interested in joining us? well, simply list you name in the comment section of this post and we’ll be in touch when we’ve got ourselves organised.

Colin Ibbotson on Using a Tarp in the UK

As regular readers will know, Colin Ibbotson is one of the most high profile, ultra light, backpackers in the UK.

The Colin Ibbotson pages now feature an article he has produced that considers his own experience of using tarps in the UK. He describes the tarp that he will be using for the 2009 TGO Challenge and considers how his equipment might develop over time.

Colin Ibbotson Talks Tarps

Knowing When to Bail Out!

There’s a fierce, but interesting, thread going on here see Bob Has Just Phoned,

I’m not getting involved in this, but the debate is about the Mountain Marathon that was abandoned a couple of weeks ago.

Much of the controversy here seems to be based on people’s lack of understanding of what a Mountain Marathon is and how this one works. Competitors are experience hill walkers and if they’re in anyway green the event will give them a lot more experience of walking and navigating through high, open, country.

But is this dangerous?

Bob Cartwight makes an important point. Whether on a Marathon or not, he will never take undue risks on the hill. If he feels too challenged he will get off quickly.

Getting off the hill quickly is always important. It’s always a good idea to have a view about how and where you might descend quickly.

I’ve had to do this a number of times over the years, most recently in the Cairngorms when a sudden deterioration in weather — wind, sleet and driving rain — forced me to come down quickly. On that occasion, as on others, I walked out along a kind of spur until I found a small stream descending sharply down hill. A followed the stream, sliding down the heather on my bum. The stream offered quite effective bits of shelter from the wind.

Of course, when I got to the bottom the sun was beginning to shine and it looked as if the weather on the top was clear again. C’est la vie!

The hill will be there next time and given its easy location from Glenmore I’ll no doubt be up it again soon. Bailing out might not have been strictly necessary that day, but I wasn’t really enjoying the walk. I did enjoy the slide down immensely. One loss is another gain.

Always have a view to the quick way off the hill. It’s always part of the game!