You talking to me?

Taxi Driver 1976.

Microsoft latest effort to wrest the internet from Google, well I presume it is. 

I am sure you have seen the adverts.  One person makes a comment which sends another off into free association.  The premise being we are all suffering from information overload and cannot differentiate between useful and not useful.

Microsoft presumably comes to the rescue and tell us what is useful and what is not.  Or rather fails to tell us about things it does not deem useful.  Well I am sure it is less Orwellian when Microsoft explains it and it is no bad thing skipping irrelevancies.

Think how much happier you would have been not having to read the last 3 paragraphs.

Information overload is considered a modern evil and something it would be nice to get control of.

I have been reading The Last American Man by Elizabeth Gilbert.  It is a true tale about a modern day American that wishes to bring us all back to nature and bought 1000 acres of land to create a community to enlighten people about how to go about this.

It is perhaps not Utopian in its ideals, but certainly it is going along those lines.  I studied Economics and Utopia cropped up quite a bit, usually just because you needed a country where things were perfect.  “In this Utopian world of perfect information…” etc etc.  It was a handy simplified starting point before too much of the real world leaked in and Keynesian economics crashed down around your ears and you found yourself mumbling, “In the long run we are all dead”.  Keynes might have been wrong on that, it might be, in the long run we are all monetarists.

Back to the point (there is one, well the beginning of one anyway).

Utopian thinking is not the preserve of economists or lunatics (not mutually exclusive) but there is a very enjoyable history of cranks and nutters setting up societies outside of society and thankfully not all based on some sort of religious mania.

Although not its only geographical stronghold there is a long history of “Utopian society” building in England.   My current reading includes : Utopia Britannica: v. 1: British Utopian Experiments: 1325-1945 by Chris Coates.

I was browsing OS maps online and comparing the 1930’s/40’s OS maps with the current ones ( http://wtp2.appspot.com/wheresthepath.htm ).  Looking at the changing landscape and names because for the last year or two I have been walking “ghost landscapes”.  Basically landscapes which no longer exist, ie trying to trace the boundary of something more ancient in the modern landscape looking for a remnant.  If asked why, there is no quick answer and probably no coherent one either.

Then I noticed a large area of orchard on the 1940’s map which no longer exists.  Turns out this was just such a Utopian society just before World War One.  It then changes hands to assist unemployed Londoners around about the Great Depression.  Now it seems to have a prison on part of the acreage.

Utopian society, economics, changing land use and it has 3 Martello Towers to see along the route.  All this and a hell of a lot more from a bit of coastline that is combed over pretty regularly by the outdoor type programmes for entirely more obvious reasons.

While walking is just that, “plod plod plod” some landscapes live more in the head than the feet.  Which might be the best explanation I am going to manage as to why I walk ghost landscapes.

I can’t wait to set foot on the path, it has fired my imagination for a few days and will bring together some threads from my current reading matter.

One person’s data is another person’s information.

For those interested, here is the section of the map I am referring too:

http://wtp2.appspot.com/wheresthepath.htm?lat=52.04600001215836&lon=1.44211568412607&gz=14&oz=7&gt=6

Do it now

Last year a gnarled twisted old tree was in full blossom.  The last tree standing before the land gave way to sea, its stunted growth had been much influenced by the continual and usually pretty tree unfriendly environment.

Add to this it was near a play area, such as they are now, and a road, the tree represents a determination to survive.  It’s existence enhanced the area.

I don’t now how many times I would have carelessly passed that tree giving it but the slightest thought but this day the sun was behind it just right.  The fact it retained its blossom was the reason, usually the sea wind would remove it almost the moment it appeared.  I had no camera so resolved to return to get the picture.

Of course life seems to be composed of more important things than making a special trip in the hope of catching a tree in full blossom, with the sun behind it.  But I owed that tree a photo.

I promptly forgot until last week when I went past again.  The tree is a stump a few inches above the ground.  The council cut it down.  I really really hope it has nothing to do with the failed flats development sitting across the road.  Sea views are worth more than tree views afterall and there is a surprising correlation between a new house going up and an old tree coming down.

I will go back and count the tree rings to get an idea of how long it was there.

My chance to photograph this tree, that will have struggled almost everyday of its existence was gone.  I don’t know how long that tree had stood there, but gone is gone, there will not be another there in my lifetime.

It is filed away in my minds eye along with other trees in the area I have admired and which no longer stand.  It is a considerable number, and while there are many left, there are fewer, each one is a loss.

I missed my chance to capture something which will not return and I regret it.  You never know what tomorrow will bring, if you have something to tell someone say it, if you have something to do, do it.  It is not always practical of course and I will fail to follow my advice, but if I try a little harder to do so, I will miss less.

Book : Ancient Mariner

Author Ken McGoogan.

A book charting the life and times of Samuel Hearne.

18th Century British explorer of Canada because of his employment within the Hudson Bay Company.

Again a book I was turned onto via Ray Mears Northern Wilderness series shown in 2009.

Ken McGoogan also wrote Fatal Passage, telling the tale of John Rae, subject of another episode in Northern Wilderness series.

Ray started the TV program by showing us a lump of natural copper which now resides in the Natural History Museum.  An artifact as remarkable as it is unremarkable.  What a story weaves around it.

The book charts Hearne’s life, from start to finish, but of course the bulk is all about the 3 expeditions he made to find the Coppermine River.

His journey was based on false information and mis-understanding.  The natives spoke of a copper mine and drew up a map, the English imagined a copper mine.  The HBC, a company that only an empire could create, as it was pretty much given Canada to exploit, was keen to get it’s hands on this potential revenue.

Throughout the book are examples of First Nation’s people and Europeans failing to understand each other’s mindset but somehow they kept moving forward.  The First Nations simply did not comprehend the Europeans were so dependent on them.  The Europeans seemed unable to adapt to prevailing conditions and were continually surprised the Indians, who were “employed” too look after them failed to actually do so.

Hearne was set on his task by Mosses Norton, governor of the HBC fort at the time.  Mosses is not liked by Hearne or the author, probably rightly, but it makes even his brief appearances in the book difficult to judge.

The First Nation treats their women in a mind-boggling fashion to modern thinking.  Men wrestle for them, but not too hard.  Mosses if anything holds them in lower regard and they do not make up part of the party that heads out to the Coppermine.

Women are their knowledge are integral to making a travelling party work.  Not surprisingly the first two attempts to reach the coppermine fail.  It is largely down to damaged equipment, but it is also clear the travelling party is a shambles.  Hearne is determined and resourceful, he needs to be.  He is stripped of most of his belongings in the 2nd expedition and has to return.

This is a watershed moment for Hearne.  Without all the “essentials” of a European traveller he finds life a lot easier.  Hearne is learning from those that have learnt to live in the environment so successfully.

He also meets Matonabbee.  They make a great team and the book paints a picture of two people that are the best of friends.  Hearne could not have done what he did without Matonabbee.

The third expedition solved the problem of travel by remaining within the treeline and following the animal migration as much as possible.  Rather than carry all the food they needed, they followed it.

Feast and famine is a theme.  Hearne complains the Indians are slaughtering so many animals just to eat just their tongues he fears there will be none left soon.

Most certainly this is not the Native American of schoolbooks/Disney and tree hugging liberals.  These people leap from the page, living harshly in a harsh world.

It became clear to Hearne that the Indians were not sharing his same motivations, they were taking him to the Coppermine River but had killing on their minds.  The Innuit were a traditionally enemy of the Dene and killing a few Innuit was well worth the trek.

The author keeps the book within its context, there is no modern day moralising regarding events.

Apart from this nasty surprise for Hearne, the other surprise was the Copper Mine itself, it did not exist in the European model.  The “mine” was a river.  After a good deal of searching the lump of copper that now sits in the museum was found and carted back to the fort.

Three years work and really Hearne’s lifetimes work, the first European to see the arctic coast of America, at least 3500mile round trip.  It is a fabulous adventure yarn and creates a vivid picture of events and the characters that took part.

The book does not end here, but continues on to the end of Hearne’s life.  His promotion, his “country wife” and her secret.  The loss of his command to the French, the near destruction of his priceless manuscript.  Hearne’s imprisonment by the same French and how he negotiated his release.

His return to Canada is a watershed for Hearne, things were never going to be the same again.  Hearne sets up HBC’s first inland trading post but somehow seems to lose his way in company favours.

Ken paints the picture of a broken man only driven forward by the desire to get his book into publication.  I leave you to read the book, or do the legwork to find out why.

Hearne faced critics then and subsequently.  Those seeking to question if the events described occurred (Hearne has previous for embellishment) and pointing out the surveying could have been better.  The author quells these doubts and leaves the reader with little reason to have mis-givings, events did happen as Hearne described.

The reason for the title is throughout the book is the authors idea that Coleridge Ancient Mariner was no other than Samuel Hearne.  They did meet, Hearne did tell the young Coleridge the tale of his life.  Coleridge did base other works on Hearne.  It is quite  a convincing argument made and no harm done in doing so.

Map replacement

After a good many years of service it is time to replace my OS 1:25000 series Dartmoor map.

Perhaps for some this is a matter of the totally mundane, not for me.

While it is not exactly seismic even for me, its not a five minute decision either.

The process could have a legitimate claim to have started two years ago when I first considered replacing the map.  From an informational point of view there was no reason;  things don’t change too dramatically and the progression of magnetic north has not been that astonishing.

The reason for change was the map was beginning to get “tatty”.  Areas of it had got wet and the crease lines where it folds were fraying.  There were also various areas of the map which were shaded various non-standard colours.  The colours represented bits of  meals which had sustained me along various routes.

Despite the map getting wet, it had dried pretty successfully and the folds were reinforced with micropore tape (significantly better than sellotape for this purpose).

The simple truth is the map had become part of the experience and its state represented no real danger to my safety.  The dog prints, the food stains, the rain, the fraying edges added to the fabric, it did not detract.

So the map limped on for another year, and then another.  While it is not used everyday in the field, the weeks of the year it does get an outing it gets a significant work out.

Oddly the decision to change the map was not based on the fact it was wearing out and becoming likely to fail me at a crucial moment.  It was based on the fact as a document it had become more than the sum of its parts.  It was no longer a map of Dartmoor, but a map of MY adventures on Dartmoor. 

Irreplaceable if lost, so time to replace it.

So the decision has been made, a new map is required.

Ideally I would buy a map at the location it represents, ie Dartmoor.  It would be “of the place”.  But it would potentially mean a restriction in choice and price. 

I cannot imagine a situation where I could not find one for sale, but equally the ramifications of that would be significant enough even an insignificant possibility is to be avoided.

The most significant disadvantage would be the lack of time to get to know my new map.

In truth given my location, online is the purchase choice, and this tends to be ebay, for better or worse.

25000 series or 50000 series?

25000, its the walking series, it is what I am doing.  Although the 50000 series does have logistical advantages to my mind, notably, more land shown in any given bit of paper.

OS or another producer of maps.

Again really a no-brainer for me, I grew up with OS, it is what I know.

The final decision was waterproof or not, and if waterproofing, what type.  I have heard tell of various potions and incantations you can add to paper based maps which will make them impervious to water.  There would be a weight saving to this method, but I decided against it because if I am that determined to save weight, I will cut my shoelaces a bit shorter, or simply miss a meal. 

The real reasons:

The first being it would still not be wind-resistant, while the wind has never torn a map to shreds in my hands, there is the possibility.

Related to this my old map failed me at the creases, I imagine the waterproof OS series is less likely to give me this problem.

Finally I like the idea of being able to draw upon my OS map with a waterbased pen.  It makes route planning a good deal easier.

The map is bought, but there are downsides.  It is heavier, it does not fold so flat and I suspect the increased strength of the creases mean bending the map to my will is going to be significantly more tricky.  Finally this map is just not going to age in the same way my old paper map did, it seems unlikely to gather character. 

Functionally I believe this is a more robust map, and it has reduced the chances of wind – rain destruction, which given its Dartmoor is no bad idea.

My old map gets hung up on the wall, it deserves the retirement and it is great to just let my eye wander over the landscape I know so well while running the movie of various walks on the big screen in my head.

New sunglasses

Disappointingly I managed to lose my sunglasses of long standing last week.

I blame the weather, it was not sunny, so my glasses were not on my nose but rather the top of my hat.  Had they fallen from my eyes I would have noticed their absence rather sooner than I did as they slipped off my hat.

I know the exact stile which caused the problem.  It is not so much a stile as two large horizontal timbers set up in such a way as to hinder rather than assist the walker.  Last year I had seen a woman of slim proportion step gracefully between the two timbers.  In my reckless folly I imagined I was made of the same stuff.  I wasn’t, I blame the daysack of course.

When I looked back after some minutes walking I saw someone else at the stile and stopped to watch as it was so unusual to see someone there.  I suppose it was curiosity as to how he was going to get over the obstacle.  He seemed to look in my direction and be in at least two minds about what he intended to do.

He had found my glasses and was wondering if they were mine and if they were could he attract my attention with a shout.  I worked this out later of course.  The third option he had was to pocket them.  This was his chosen route.

The glasses were nothing special, certainly not expensive, they were actually pretty tired.  But they were mine and we had shared enough adventures for them to have become an integral part of things.

Time to get another pair.  Not the same pair, because there were improvements I could make, and here was an opportunity to do so.

Firstly they had to be wrap around and have a high impact rating.  No need for them to stop bullets but plenty of reason for them to stop some pretty high speed fragments as I work outside in an environment where fragments of stuff I would not want in my eyes tend to zoom about.

My previous pair had a semi-mirrored finish to them and I came not to like that.  I like a low visibility profile, flashy and indeed, flashing sunglasses never sat well with that approach.  I am no Ninja, and nor do I set out to be, but given a choice between a hi-viz jacket or a dull earth tone in the countryside, I go for the dull.  I leave the hi-viz to council workers and others that think they need the attention.

Protection against UVA, UVB and whatever other death rays that the sun has emitted for eternity but our eyes have failed to evolve protection against (surely its not all marketing) is a given.  Well I take it on trust its a given because I don’t know how to test it and there are plenty of stories about how many sunglasses fail to give the protection they are meant too (more marketing dirty tricks?).

Finally I made my choice, a pair of wrap around safety glasses with smoke coloured lenses with the added bonus of being significantly lighter than my lost pair of Bolle glasses.

The final addition was one of those safety straps to stop them being lost when not on your nose.  Well, not quite, a bit of string serves that purpose, its just as functional, just does not get the same marketing push.

So hopefully I will get many years of use out of these sunglasses.

Good Heavens

I sit here watching the rain come down outside the window.  Did that yesterday, did that the day before.  The day before that there was a break in the routine, it was cold and windy, which it had been for the 4 days previous to that.
Summer is becoming a distant memory.  I imagine there was something approaching a summer three years ago but my mind could well be playing tricks with me.
It has been a long time when walking has been more than just theory for me.  It says something of the current weather conditions that work has become a viable alternative to walking. 
This is perhaps a little odd given I work outside in the elements rather than indoors.  The distinct advantage work has over walking is I can stop work when the weather becomes to unremitting in a way you cannot stop walking.  A side effect of working is earning, which again is something that walking does not provide.
Compensations for not actually getting outdoors in anything but the most mundane manner is I get to watch some truly dire England football.  The World Cup is the only football I watch and only when England is playing.  A few matches every 4 years (if we qualify) is enough to remind me why I have no interest in football.
Just finished reading Steve Blease, End to End.  He did LEJOG during a world cup year and he had a lot of bad things to say about England’s world cup efforts in 2002.  By contrast to this competitions effort Blease was living in beknighted times.
It was a pretty slim volume, but it was not a page turner, or perhaps I had too many distractions going on.
Sport, sport, sport, all from my armchair while spinning outdoor adventure in my head.
Outdoor adventures fuelled by reading matter.  Steve Blease was a follow on from a John Hillaby reading session which is culminating in Journey Home at this moment.  John’s account of his “LEJOG” during the late 60’s reminded me how remarkably different the “recent” past was.
When not reading about walking from one of Britain to the other, I have been ploughing forward with the books that were written about the Sunday Times round the world yacht race, again late 60’s, again a world so devoid of electronic gadgets it seems near mediaeval.
Donald Crowhurst did go bonkers, read the book, see the film.
Bernard Moitessier : The Long Way
At times I thought he had gone bonkers, or perhaps started off mad as a hatter.  At other times he just seemed very French.  A great read.
Robin Knox-Johnston : A World of my own.
Never any doubt about the sanity of Robin.  Solid British stock, wasn’t going to be beaten by a Frenchman.  Wasn’t.
The other reading theme has been last Ray Mears series concerning Canada (it was on last year).  Slowly been chewing through the various explorers he referenced in the series, and mighty find reading it has been too.
Of the three current reading interests there is a much higher chance I will walk from one end of Britain to the other, but the odds are slim I will do that.
In the meanwhile my kit list is refined, fiddled with, equipment is updated, improved upon, all waiting for a break in the weather to coincide with a break in the schedule that will allow me to take off for a while.