| I’ve consulted
a wide range of “walks” books of various
quality, with some giving bald directions and very rough sketch-maps, which need
to be augmented with Ordnance Survey maps, while others reproduce the appropriate sections
of such maps and give a brief history of the landmarks and buildings one is passing. It’s worth taking time to browse around in
bookshops comparing what’s available.
Part of the fun
is figuring out the navigation, but in
many cases I’ve wished the authors had given their draft directions to a stranger to
check out before having them published. Far too often, I’ve found myself deliberating
whether I really am at, say, the second turning I’m meant to take. And I’ve come
across several instances of the writers
confusing their lefts and rights.
On the ground
itself, “waymarking” of footpaths by finger-posts, tack-on arrows or blobs of paint
varies from the precise to the non-existent. Sonic arrows point ambiguously say down the
centre of the hedgerow, leaving one to guess whether to take the left or right side; more
often than not, of course, one chooses the wrong one! Rights of way shown on the map can
turn out to be very faint on the ground, and in such cases it’s easy to be misled by
the track-marks of farm vehicles or animals, especially on moorland where the latter often
leave meandering trails that peter out. You do in time begin to get a sense of where you
should be going, and having a compass plus large-scale maps help enormously.
Looking back on
three years of rambling, my first thought is that I feel far less at risk than when I
cycled. True, now and then dogs bound out noisily to protect their owners’ property. I’ve never had to use one, but I must admit that a
stout walking-stick provides reassurance. It is
also useful against brambles and nettles,
testing out boggy ground and of course getting up or down a steep hill.
The people one
meets are nearly all friendly, and
thanks are due to landowners who permit the public to use private paths and even erect
small signs welcoming careful ramblers. Full marks to the farmer who erected a bench at
the top of a very steep hill on Dartmoor with a visitor’s book in which he thanked
ramblers for keeping off his land during the foot-and-mouth crisis of 2001.
I always carry
my own food and drink (you need plenty
of water to avoid dehydration). Few villages have shops nowadays, and the village inn one
liked a year or two ago is not certain to be still in business. Or they have just finished serving food as you arrive. I
once thirstily arrived at a pub on the River Thames to find a wedding reception there and
no service available to anyone who was not a guest.
 I’ve learned the hard way not to underestimate
the physical effort of walking. Recently
I aimed to cover 16 miles, which is about my limit, but I extended this by a mile or two,
and the last half-hour proved more exhausting then the end of any of the 120-mile cycle
rides that were once quite normal for me. But if
you start modestly and build up, you soon get the satisfaction of adding more miles or
tackling a hill you once thought impossible.
For information on walking, join the Ramblers’
Association
email addresses:
ramblers@london.ramblers.org.uk
enquiries@scotland.ramblers.org.uk
cerddwyr@wales.ramblers.org.uk
The Rambler (official magazine) www.ramblers.org.uk
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