As I watched a pair of 7-year-old girls race down the track and into the forest, with a despairing parent in hot pursuit, I reflected on how lucky there were to have this opportunity. I was helping out at my orienteering club’s family taster day, open to everyone from complete newbies to confident old-timers like those 7-year-olds… It reminded me of a recent conversation with Mr Lakes Climber about why we feel comfortable walking in the mountains on own. Despite our different routes into hillwalking, it boiled to a few common things….
First up, having the freedom to explore as a child meant that we learnt to feel at home in the outdoors long before we learnt about the consequences of being cold, wet or lost! I mean, we did get cold and wet, and maybe didn’t always know where we were, but as a child this didn’t seem to matter too much in the long-run, things always turned out ok. The excitement of being out exploring meant that memories of shivering in a cheap waterproof on a windswept hillside quickly faded.
For Mr Lakes Climber (MLC), an early introduction to orienteering was key to him developing a lifelong comfort with being alone in nature. I am continually bemused at what on earth happens when you send a 10-year-old out into a forest on their own with a map. They always return with pure enthusiasm for life sparkling in their eyes but I have no idea what they have been up to for the last 45 minutes as they scamper round a 1.5 km course designed to follow obvious footpaths…
Orienteering taught MLC to read a map, use a compass, and leap over branches and heather whilst doing so. All on his own, at the age of ten. That’s pretty cool.
My journey was different but with the same outcome. I’ve always been fascinated by maps but didn’t get the chance to use them in anger until Bronze D of E, when I persuaded my poor group to head straight up the North Downs and straight back down again, “because it looked fun”. Thank you to Helen’s mum for providing watermelon on a boiling hot day, as we carried far too much kit in our rucksacks!
In addition to being comfortable with maps, I was also comfortable with being cold, wet and muddy. Aged nine, I seemed to be the only girl who wanted to join the school cross country club, and run around in steep, muddy woodland for fun. This gave me a lifelong confidence in my physical ability to move through rough terrain, and it made me strong and agile. I am lucky enough to have retained all of these into adulthood.
The final piece of the puzzle, for both me and MLC, was the opportunity to learn from others as our desire to explore turned towards the mountains. For MLC and his family, forays into the hills with friends who had more experience gave them an activity they could enjoy together, and still do. For me, my launchpad was a chance conversation with a teacher from the local boys’ grammar school at my Bronze D of E campsite. She turned out to be my brother’s maths teacher, I said I wanted to be a mountaineer, and the rest is history. I have no idea who gave me permission to join the grammar school trips, but a few months later I was scrambling up the north ridge of Tryfan, soaking up knowledge from the mountain-leader-qualified teachers about kit, weather, and navigation. They encouraged us – and trusted us – to take responsibility for our actions and I quickly built up the confidence and experience needed to start journeying in the mountains on my own.
Giving kids the chance to explore the outdoors is an amazing gift. And although you may no longer be an excitable ten-year-old, I am willing to bet that heading into the hills will still unlock a little bit of that inner child – it does for me! The simplicity of being in nature, and exploring somewhere new, is always good for the soul, whatever age you are.
