To entertain myself with such detail, I often carry a Taylor Analog Instant-Read Dial Thermometer, which comes in a plastic case with a pen type clip (0.75 ounce with case). It came as part of a Life-Link Snow Study Kit but is sold separately, mostly from kitchen stores. There’s also a digital version. I use it for checking the snow temperature for waxing skis. My altimeter has a thermometer, but this is of use only if I take it off my wrist. There’s a thermometer on the SAK Altimeter knife too, and on the Brunton Sherpa Atmospheric Data Center (see Chapter 9).
There are also tiny thermometers, with wind-chill charts on the back, attached to split rings for hanging on jacket and pack zippers. These come under a variety of labels, and their weight is negligible. They provide only a rough idea of temperature.
chapter nine
on the move skills and hazards
THE ABILITY TO ADAPT TO THINGS AS THEY ARE—A PRACTICAL NECESSITY IN WILDERNESS EXPLORATION—ALSO TEACHES US HOW TO LIVE MORE PERCEPTIVELY. IN HIGH AND WILD PLACES, ADVENTURE IS LIFE ITSELF.
—High and Wild, Galen Rowell
Walking is very easy. Walking in the wilderness with a pack isn’t quite so simple. You have to find your way, perhaps in dense mist or thick forest; you need to cope with terrain, which may mean negotiating steep cliffs, loose scree, and snow; and you must deal with hazards ranging from extremes of weather to wild animals. Most wilderness walking, however, is relatively straightforward as long as you’re reasonably fit, have a few basic skills, and know a little about weather and terrain.
FINDING THE WAY
Maps
Knowing how to read a map is a key wilderness skill, yet many hikers can barely do so. I have one regular backpacking companion who has little understanding of maps and is quite happy to let me plan and lead. The only solo backpacking he’s ever done was on a coastal footpath, where route finding consisted of keeping the sea on the same side. There are also some inland areas where trails are so well posted and trail guides so accurate that you don’t need a map. Even in such areas, though, you may find unmarked trail junctions where it’s impossible to work out which way to go without a map.
A plethora of signs, indicating a popular place.
Contour lines join together points of equal elevation. The patterns they form represent the three-dimensional shapes of features. Once you can interpret them, you can tell what the hills, valleys, and ridges of an area are like.
With a map you plan walks, follow your route on the ground, and locate water sources and possible campsites. But maps also can open an inspiring world—I can spend hours poring over a map, tracing possible routes, wondering how to connect a mountain tarn with a narrow notch, speculating whether it’s possible to follow a mountain ridge or if it will turn out to be a rocky edge that forces me to take another route.
Every map has a key. Using this key to interpret the symbols, you can build a picture of what the terrain will be like. There are two types of maps: planimetric and topographic. The first represents features on the ground; the second shows the topography, or the shape of the ground itself. Topographic (“topo”) maps use contour lines, which join points of equal elevation starting from sea level. Contour lines occur at given intervals, usually from 15 to 500 feet. U.S. Geological Survey (USGS) 1:24,000 maps have a contour interval of 40 feet. On most maps, every fifth contour line is thicker and has the elevation indicated, though you may have to trace it for some distance to find this marker. The closer together the contour lines, the steeper the slope. If they’re touching, expect a cliff (though cliffs of less height than the contour interval won’t show on the map). Some maps mark cliffs, others don’t; check the key to see if you might encounter cliffs not shown on the map.
The patterns that contour lines form represent the three-dimensional shapes of features. Once you can interpret them, you can tell what the hills, valleys, and ridges of an area are like and plan accordingly.
The scale tells you how much ground is represented by a given distance on the map. The standard scale for USGS topo maps outside Alaska is 1:24,000. These are known as 7.5-minute maps because of the area of latitude and longitude they cover. On a 1:24,000 map, 1 inch equals 24,000 inches on the ground, which is roughly 2.5 inches per mile. In Alaska, 1:63,360 maps—about 1 inch to the mile—are the norm. These 15-minute maps are still available for some other areas but are being replaced by 1:24,000 ones—a pity, since the scale is adequate for backpacking and each sheet covers a larger area. USGS topo maps, sometimes known as quads (from quadrangle), are the standard in the United States.
The topo views (left) match the appropriate profiles (right).
USGS topo map with scale and declination information. These maps cover the whole country but often don’t contain up-to-date trail information.
A MOUNTAIN STORM
The wind whipping along the rocky ridge drives sheets of rain into my face. Clouds swirl all around, ripped apart at times to reveal sharp pinnacles soaring above me or the dark outline of a lake far below in the valley. I scramble along the narrow crest, exhilarated by the storm’s fury and reveling in the rough rock under my hands. I am at the heart of the world. There is no sense of time; it’s a shock when I come to the top of the talus slope that leads safely down into the valley. I hesitate to leave the storm, but the thought of dry clothes and the warmth of camp spurs me into the long descent.
For most of the world, metric scales are standard, with 1:25,000 and 1:50,000 the most useful for walkers. Smaller-scale maps covering larger areas, such as 1:100,000 and 1:250,000, are helpful for planning. Although the greater detail of large-scale maps is best for walking, it’s possible to use smaller-scale ones in the wilderness. In remote areas they may be all that’s available. I’ve used 1:250,000 maps in Greenland and even 1:600,000 in the northern Canadian Rockies.
Most Forest Service maps are planimetric, but there are some topographic ones covering designated wilderness areas, such as the 1:63,360 maps covering the Ansel Adams and John Muir Wildernesses in the Sierra. The Bureau of Land Management also makes an increasing number of metric topo maps at different scales, such as 1:100,000, with contour intervals of 50 meters.
Several companies produce maps for wilderness use that are more up to date and have more trail information than USGS topo maps. Those from Trails Illustrated (now owned by National Geographic) are excellent. Printed on a paperlike recyclable plastic called Polyart, they are tearproof and waterproof. The maps are also attractively designed, clear, and easy to read. The scale varies from map to map. Each map is based on USGS data, but this is customized for outdoor recreation and updated every year or two to keep the maps accurate. Trails Illustrated maps are topographic, but they also contain information needed for planning trips, such as the location of trailheads, ranger stations, and campsites, plus the precise route of trails, advice on bearbagging, Giardia, park and wilderness area regulations, and outlines of topics like wildlife, history, geology, and archaeology. Tom Harrison’s 1:63,360 trail maps to the High Sierra and Green Trails’ 1:69,500 maps of the Pacific Northwest are also superb. Earthwalk Press’s maps are worth looking out for, too; I found the 1:48,000 map covering part of the Grand Canyon very good. For the northeast Appalachians, Map Adventures’ waterproof topo map of the White Mountains of New Hampshire and Maine is excellent as are the Appalachian Mountain Club’s maps.
Tom Harrison Trail Map with trails clearly marked, along with distances. Maps like this are excellent for trail hiking but are available only for popular areas.
A selection of hiking maps.
A Topo! interactive map CD-ROM. Maps on CD-ROMs are good for route planning. You can print out individual sections for specific trips.
Maps based on USGS quads are now available on compact disc or can be downloaded from the Internet, from companies like National Geographic Topo!, Topo USA, and TopoZone. You can draw routes on the map and calculate distances and ascents, then print out the results so you have a complete route plan or even download them to some GPS uni
ts. Maps can be printed too, though with an A4 printer you’ll need several sheets to cover much of an area. You can get waterproof tear-resistant paper such as National Geographic’s Adventure Paper for this. Maps can be bought at outdoor stores, bookstores, agency offices, and direct from the publishers. Web sites such as Map Link, Fresh Tracks, and the USGS are very useful. (See Appendix 3.)
For general planning, the state atlases and gazetteers published by DeLorme are useful. The maps are topographic (mostly 1:250,000 or 1:300,000, though national parks may be shown at 1:70,000). They also give a great deal of other information. I’ve used the Arizona and Utah atlases for planning a thousand-mile walk in the Southwest canyons. I haven’t done the walk yet, but the planning has been fun!
Many topographic maps have a grid superimposed on them; each line in the grid may be numbered. If it is, you can record the grid reference for precise location. Also, counting the number of squares a route crosses is a quick way to estimate the distance.
To work out distances on maps without grids, a map measurer is useful. You set this calibrated wheel to the scale of the map and run it along your route. You can then read the distance off a scale on the device. It weighs only a fraction of an ounce, but I’ve never carried one. You could draw a grid on a map, but I’ve never done this, either. Laying a piece of string along the route and measuring it is another way of determining distance.
While large-scale topographic maps are the best for accurate navigation, other maps offer information useful to the walker. Land-management agencies, such as the National Park Service, often issue their own maps showing trails and wilderness facilities. These maps are more up to date than the topographic maps for the same area. Forest Service and Bureau of Land Management planimetric maps (usually half an inch to the mile) often show roads and trails that don’t appear on topo maps. These planimetric maps don’t have contour lines, so they don’t tell you how much ascent and descent there is over a particular distance. (The 1:600,000 map I used in the northern Canadian Rockies was planimetric; I worked out when I would be going uphill and downhill by studying the drainage patterns of streams, but I had no way of knowing whether I was headed for a 300- or a 3,000-foot climb.) Some planimetric maps are shaded to show where the higher ground lies, but this gives only a rough idea of what to expect.
Maps normally have the date of publication listed with the key, along with the dates of any revisions. Remote areas are rarely remapped, and you may find that some maps are decades old. Obviously, the older the map, the less accurate the information may be, especially with regard to man-made features like roads. The maps I used in the northern Yukon in the 1990s didn’t show the Dempster Highway, built in the 1960s and 1970s. I added it myself from highway maps, which are updated regularly. On one section of the Arizona Trail, which I hiked in 2000, the USGS map I used had last been field-checked thirty-six years earlier in 1964. Features can disappear as well, of course, and trails on maps may be hard or impossible to follow if they haven’t been maintained. It’s wise to consult current guidebooks and ranger stations if you don’t want to risk a nasty surprise.
I am a firm believer in doing virtually all navigating with only a map. As long as you can see features around you and relate them to the map, you know where you are. The easiest way to do this is by setting, or orienting, the map, which involves turning it until the features you can see are in their correct positions relative to where you are. If you walk with the map set, it is easier to relate visible features to it.
Many people automatically use a compass for navigating, ignoring what they can see around them, yet even at night you can navigate solely with a map. Many years ago I did a night-navigation exercise on a mountain leadership-training course and was the only person to travel the route without relying on a compass. It was a clear night, and the distinctive peaks above the valley were easily identifiable on the map, while the location of streams showed me where I was on the valley floor. The others in the group navigated as though we were in total darkness, relying on compass bearings and pace counting. If you always depend on such methods, you cut yourself off from the world around you, substituting figures and measurements for a close understanding of the nature of the terrain. I don’t like my walking to be reduced to mathematical calculations.
When you’re following a trail, an occasional map check is enough to let you see how far along you are. When you’re going cross-country, however, study the map carefully, both beforehand and while on the move. Apart from working out a rough route, note features such as rivers, cliffs, lakes, and, in particular, contour lines. Be prepared not to always find what you expect, though. The lack of contour lines around a lake may mean you’ll find a nice flat, dry area for a camp when you arrive, or it may mean acres of marsh (as happened to me a few times in the Canadian Rockies). Close-grouped contour lines at the head of a valley may mean an impassable cliff or a steep but climbable slope. You have to accept that sometimes you’ll have to turn back and find another route, that sometimes you’ll have to walk twice as far as planned to reach your destination and it will take you twice as long. No map will tell you everything. Flexibility in adapting your plans to the terrain is important.
Always keep your map handy, even if the route seems easy or you’re on a clear trail. A garment pocket is the obvious storage place. Unless the maps are made of waterproof plastic, it’s essential to protect them from weather. Unfortunately, most map cases are bulky, awkward to fold, and hard to fit into a pocket or fanny pack. Those from Ortlieb (a fraction over 2 ounces) are quite flexible and very tough. Mine is a decade old. Plastic bags work well, but they don’t last long. An Aloksak bag would be a good, durable alternative. You can cover maps with special clear plastic film, and some hikers use waterproofing products, such as wipe-on Nikwax Map Proof, which I’m told are effective. I don’t bother with waterproofing maps. Although some of mine look disreputable, I’ve never had one disintegrate.
Those who wander widely may be interested in World Mapping Today, by R. B. Parry and C. R. Perkins, which describes maps available for each country.
The Compass
Although I prefer to navigate with just a map, I always carry a compass. For trail travel I hardly need it, except perhaps when at an unsigned junction in thick mist or dense forest. For cross-country walking, though, a compass may prove essential, especially when visibility is poor.
The standard compass for backpacking is the orienteering type, with a liquid-damped needle and a transparent plastic baseplate. Silva is the best-known brand; Suunto and Brunton are others. Corporate changes have led to some confusion, however. Johnson Outdoors holds the rights to the brand name Silva in the United States and used to distribute the Swedish-made Silva compasses. In 1996 Silva bought Brunton and ended its link with Johnson, but Johnson still had the rights to the name Silva. This has led to the strange situation where the original Swedish Silva compasses are sold in the United States and Canada under the Brunton label (though as Silva elsewhere in the world), while compasses sold under the name Silva by Johnson Outdoors are now made in Finland by Silva’s big rival Suunto. So there are three brands but only two makers. Luckily both make top-quality compasses.
The main features of an orienteering compass, including a magnifying lens. The compass housing is a rotating ring, also known as the azimuth.
I mostly use the smallest, lightest model—the Brunton 7DNL Star (Silva Field 7 outside North America), which weighs 0.8 ounce. This is just 0.2 ounce lighter than the Silva Type 3 I used to use. But that’s still a 20 percent weight saving. For backpacking, models with sighting mirrors and other refinements are unnecessary.
The heart of the compass is the magnetic needle, which is housed in a rotating fluid-filled, transparent, circular mount marked with north, south, east, and west, plus degrees. The base of the dial is marked with an orienting arrow, fixed toward north on the dial, and a series of parallel lines. The rest of the compass consists of the baseplate, with a large direction-of-travel a
rrow, roamers for taking grid references, and a set of scales for measuring distances on a map. Some baseplates also have a small magnifying glass built in to help you read map detail.
A compass helps you walk toward your destination, even if you can’t see it, without reference to the surrounding terrain. Without a compass, you might veer away from the correct line. The direction you walk is called a bearing. Bearings are given as degrees, or the angle between north and your direction, reading clockwise. To set a bearing, you use the compass baseplate as a protractor. Point the direction-of-travel arrow toward your destination, then turn the compass housing until the red end of the magnetic needle aligns with the orienting arrow. As long as you keep these two arrows pointing to the north and follow the direction-of-travel arrow, you’ll reach your destination, even if it’s hidden. However, you can rarely take a bearing on something several hours away and walk straight to it (although it’s possible in desert and wide-open tundra). It’s better to locate a visible, stationary feature (a checkpoint) that lies along your line of travel, such as a boulder or a tree, and walk to that. You may have to leave your bearing to circumvent an obstruction, such as a bog or a cliff, but that’s all right as long as you keep the chosen feature in sight. Once you reach a checkpoint, you can check your bearing and find another object to head for.
Chris Townsend Page 53