It was with some trepidation that I walked off Peak 232 in Mogo State Forest following a compass bearing and heading for an old overgrown skid trail (CPT187/5). I had been on CPT187/5 about five years ago and it was heavily overgrown then and barely visible. The idea that a simple compass bearing would take me right to the terminus of the road with no grid searching required seemed unlikely. It’s much easier to hit a trail (handrail if you will) like this if you can plot a route that crosses perpendicular to the trail as there is a bigger area to hit. Miraculously the bush was not very thick or very wet and in a very short time I realised that I had walked directly out to the end of the road in an exercise of flawless navigation.
Of course, navigating through the bush is much easier now than it was a decade or two ago. These days, almost everyone has some kind of mapping application (I have Memory Map) with topographical maps on their mobile pocket computers (phones) which not only display maps but also have a friendly icon (mine is a winking red hollow circle) that shows exactly where you are. Compass skills are still required as while it is tedious to walk on a compass bearing (and virtually impossible to do with complete accuracy), it is even more irksome to walk following a GPS device.
Years ago, on a 12 day traverse of the Lillooet Icefield, the “leader” of the group insisted that, on a stormy day in a complete white-out as we skied blind through crevassed terrain, we should ski along following his GPS. Of course, even under those conditions we skied faster than the device could update so we lurched along left, then right, then right, then left, then more right, then right again, then correcting to the left. Finally, after someone almost skied right into a crevasse we gave it up and sat tight until the cloud had lifted a little.
GPS units and mapping software are great things but I worry myself about getting too used to dumbly following them and try to avoid this when possible. In Australia when you are travelling through thick bush along ill defined ridges or across flat land with few handrails, check stops or back stops, it is reassuring to be able to follow a compass bearing but also have a check every so often with the GPS that you are still on track.
I once had a group of eight eager KMC’ers following me up a ridge in the arse end of nowhere on skis. We’d done a couple of runs and were heading for home when, in a fit of the most outrageously bad navigation, I led the group down the wrong side of the ridge, away from the highway and deeper into the wilderness. At some point, something rattled into my brain that there was something very off about this, possibly I’d subconsciously noted that the rapidly setting sun was in the wrong direction of the sky. On KMC trips only I carried a rudimentary GPS unit which gave only UTM coordinates. Checking these against the map, with some horror – the day was after all getting on and this would not be the first time I had led a KMC group out to the road just as darkness fell (or even after if I’m truth telling) – I noted that we were descending 180 degrees off the direction we should be. There is just no way to bluff through that as the entire group has to put skins back on skis and climb up, so it is best to confess the error immediately even if the remainder of the tour is spent with the skiers looking squint eyed at you with mistrust.
But back to Peak 232, where I happily plodded out to a very vague and faint remnant of a track which was semi-easily followed to an obvious fire trail, back up over various hills and finally to the car.
No comments:
Post a Comment