By: Blonde Two
There are some mantras that are written in Blonde folklore…
‘Always trust your compass.’
Would probably be the most important.
However all good mantras should have a sub-mantra and, for this one, the sub-mantra would definitely be…
‘Always carry a spare compass.’
On Wednesday night, during our night navigation workshop, a compass was lost, so on Sunday morning I dragged poor Mr B2 out from under the duvet to use his ‘looking skills’, which are far more finely honed than mine, to help me find it.
The great thing, I have discovered, about doing a navigation exercise as precise as night navigation, is that you can retrace your steps almost exactly. Mr B2 and I parked at the same car park, walked the same bit of road (collecting some rather horrid McDonalds rubbish as we went), walked ‘up the down wall’ (you have to be Blonde to understand that) and wandered, on a bearing, across to a dilapidated cairn, over to a wall and back up to the top of the ‘down wall’.
Although sadly, we didn’t find the compass, I discovered that looking carefully for something is a great way to walk. You kind of lose yourself in the detail, that whitish patch of lichen on the rock, the way a certain set of grass tufts grow in a different direction to the others, the pattern of the holes in the stone wall. I also enjoyed the sense of quiet that ‘looking’ seemed to imbue upon our venture, apparently you do ‘looking’ better when you are unspeaking. The outer quiet soon became an inner quiet and we wandered backwards and forwards across the path together in a most relaxing manner.
Less of a ‘wild compass chase’ more of a ‘gentle compass search’ maybe.