By: Blonde Two
This Blonde has been quietly tearing her lovely Blonde locks out today. Our young leaders plus us Two Blondes have spend a lot of time putting detail into our plans for this Saturday’s Ten Tors training walk. I chose a part of the moor that is relatively new to us, we have written routes, had meetings, shown the newbies how to mark their routes out on the map, written a convoluted plan for adult deployment and sent numerous bits of paperwork to very nearly all of the right people and places.
The issue, of course, is the weather – when is it not on Dartmoor? We thought we were well organised for all weather options having also written extra “rainy day” and “snowy day” routes. You would imagine that all of this Super-Blonde over-organisation would have covered any eventuality but, once again, I fear that Dartmoor is making sure that she shows us who is boss. We have a little Blonde issue on our hands because we have failed (how remiss of us!) to write the route that says “galey, snowy, thundery and lightningy day” on it.
If you think that this sounds a little over obsessive, you would be right but also wrong. When I struggled to stand up in the work car park at nearly sea level yesterday morning, I decided to start monitoring the weather forecast for Saturday. Unless my met office translation powers have left me, I am certain that, as the day progressed, I saw gales, snow, thunder and lightning all predicted at around lunchtime when we are supposed to be gathering our youngsters together at the highest point of the walk.
So once again, the Two Blondes will be resorting to Plan Z. Stop the Dartmoor world somebody, I think I might want to get off!
HAving seen the forecast I think it’s a good call. Hoping to batten down the hatches and stay put on Saturday.
I’m sorry about this, but also surprised. I see the world this way: Acts of God are just that but they are never going to happen to you. Simply because you each received your Godships years ago and you’re part and parcel of the merry Zeus, Thor, Loki crew. Were such a meterological project proposed, you’d simply table a motion. Popular, spiffing and – of course – BLONDE, you’d inevitably win by a clear majority. I wouldn’t say feet of clay, just a couple of little toes.
Sometimes even the loftiest of Deities (note the capital) look down at their clay toes for just that little while too long. Thank you for reminding us to raise our gaze again.
Then they learn a little early the most important mountaineering lesson of all – that sometimes you must be strong enough not to go on. I am truly sorry for all your lost hard work, but it was not wasted – that lesson may save their lives one day.
it’s a very serious question, involving several layers of fiduciary and moral duty:
you are there to lead and to teach to lead, to dare and know when to dare no more, but also to care and protect: unfortunately, modern litigiousness makes such simple decisions less simple – merely planning properly for hazard and discomfort is not enough, it seems, if such predicted (and prepared for) hazards are actually met and difficulties are experienced in dealing with them, even successfully, yet one is blamed (or sued) for discomfort and danger encountered.
but I incline to the view that although as an individual you can chose to simply ‘stay at home’ or in the pub, your wider moral (ie educatative) duty to your ‘team’ is actually not simply to play safe and stay at home/in the pub, etc., but to make serious and determined plans and act to execute these careful strategies, and only to change or withdraw/retreat when actual events show the wisdom of ‘turning back’: it is of no benefit to the putative leaders to pull out without their actually experiencing the real circumstances and conditions that demand it.
Otherwise you might as well give a classroom lecture: only face to face with the elements will they really understand how to form the wise judgements and tests of their mettle in this hardest judgement – as your other commenter says – of when to turn back.
And they will have good memories of trying and knowing it couldn’t be done, rather than thinking they’d simply copped out of the struggle – or worse, that they’d been copped out, which could easily, and often does, make them take unwarranted risks when actually out on their own.
That will make them good trusted leaders – and good companions.
Thank you Gimmer – that comment has moved, and helped me more than you would imagine.