Here's to budgets, bags and
wallets!
Here's to all the wandering train!
Burns
WARNINGS TO WALKERS
IN Scotland the term
walkers includes cyclists and motorists, as even these, if they wish to
see Scotland, have often to get off or out and use their legs and their
wits. When preparing to journey in Scotland by any other path than railway
lines, the three grand things to keep in mind are the weather, the ground
and the customs of the Scotch. In other words, prepare for cold, rain and
mist, for rocks, bogs and innless roads, and for the fact that our
natives, especially our Highlanders, while they are the soul of
hospitality, are apt to take for granted the virtue of total abstinence in
travellers. That is to say, your clothes, your carried refreshments, and
your precautions against being caught out by fatigue or fog in remote
spots, are all more important than if you were walking in England.
Take clothes first. No
matter what month it may be, you cannot count on the kindness of the
weather. This is especially true if you are climbing. In the Grampians
even in July there are days when the south wind speedily masses
rain-clouds along the range you have chosen. As often as not early morning
sunshine is a bad sign for a day's outing, and east wind is no guarantee
that it will not rain. You may be lucky and strike a fine spell in the
North when all England is under rain. June and September are both likely
months for this. But do not rely on it. Be prepared for the worst. For men
there is no dress equal to the kilt for Scottish out-of-doors, especially
for cross-country or path-walking in the high places. It guarantees warmth
to the vital parts of the body when sitting or standing, is difficult to
wet through, and leaves the limbs free. Heather was not made for trousers.
The sporran also is convenient as an extra pocket. If you have no tartan
of your own there is nothing against your wearing a tweed kilt, and you
can have it waterproofed if you like. Women should wear a thickly pleated
skirt - that is, pleated in the same generous fashion as a kilt. With the
kilt goes a sweater or cardigan over a shirt for both sexes, and a jacket
over the sweater, the extras to be discarded and carried in the pack when
not required. If, at the same time, you can acquire, and learn how to wear
without impeding yourself, a thin plaid, you are secure against the worst
that Scotland can do. This also can be waterproofed while remaining soft
and thin, and so will serve as a rug or a wrap as necessity dictates.
Practise folding and draping it over one shoulder and across the breast,
drawing one end through your waistbelt. It is a graceful garment and will
not be in your way. The black-and-white "shepherd's plaid" of fine wool is
recommended, but colours are a matter of taste. Remember that if you are
storm-stayed in the hills, a few folds of the plaid over your head will do
more to keep you warm than a heavy overcoat. This reminder is necessary
for the many who now walk hatless. Shoes, of course, should be pliant and
soft as to the uppers, thick in the sole and thoroughly water-tight. But
even the best shoes do not help you if you land in a bog.
When collecting your food
and drink, remind yourself that "hunger-bunk" is a common affliction not
only in making the Pass of Glencoe, and that if it is upon Glencoe your
heart is set there are some fifty miles without a shop or a house
available for refreshment between Crianlarich and Fort William. Remind
yourself also that beers are few and far between, especially in the
Highlands, and that at the end of a long day's walk, if you are not
returning to your starting-point, you may easily find nothing but a cup of
tea and some cold potted-head. Impromptu or professional hosts will be
found ready for all emergencies, so that a recent walker writes with
enthusiasm of the courteous reception given in a Highland cottage to a
party of walkers who arrived stark naked, having lost their clothes when
fording a river. But your inner man may not receive the same attention as
that which is forthcoming for your outer. The easiest and safest extra
foods to carry with you are slabs of chocolate (these can now be had of
unprecedented strength and stimulating properties), coarse oatmeal and
raisins. For regular picnic use the best sandwich in the world, and the
most filling, is made by slitting baps, buttering both inside pieces and
closing them over a thick slice of spiced bacon, which is a Scottish
speciality of which we are justly proud. A copious flask of whisky (Talisker,
if you can get it) should be accompanied, says an expert, by another, or
even two smaller flasks of different whisky, both to keep strictly for
emergencies and because that in your leading flask may turn out to be bad.
On no account let yourself encroach upon any of the flasks early in the
day, and be firm in preserving inviolate those which are intended for
accidents, until an accident happens. Even the copious flask is intended
to come into play only towards the end of your day, when that last,
unlooked-for forced march presents itself and a fillip is much needed.
GENERAL HINTS
Take with you a compass, a
whistle, an electric torch, vaseline, sticking-plaster and, if you are
climbing, an aneroid and an inch map with contours 100 yards apart.
The compass habit is a
needful one to all who climb, and even if many days pass without your
having to use it never discard it because of that. Even edges of mist or
the faintest "haar", combined with the difference between your right and
left leg and your all-too-human convictions about directions, can play you
tricks in the mountains that are as queer as any of Maskelyne and Devant's,
but far more dangerous. Besides, if there are several of you, the compass
decides arguments. When the air is clear, of course, you take your
direction in using the compass by a feature of the landscape. When there
is a mist, you send one of the party on ahead just as far as you can see
him wave a handkerchief, when he serves as the feature. In either case the
needle tells no lies however peculiar its pointing finger may seem to you.
The whistle will turn out useful in a dozen ways, and it may save lives
when the hold-up is serious and prolonged. You can go on taking turns at
blowing a whistle long after voices would have given out. The uses of the
aneroid will be obvious to all who are capable of profiting by them.
Vaseline is only a little less useful than a whistle and will be pounced
upon for many purposes unforeseen at starting. One often forgotten use of
sticking-plaster is the prevention of an incipient blister. It will not
cure the blister, but if applied in time it will keep it from developing
or bursting. If you are aware before starting of a weak place on your heel
or a faulty place in your shoe, some plaster between the two, smoothly
stuck on to your skin when you are dressing, will obviate the painful
reaction which is otherwise sure to take place after a few miles of
trudging. And until you come to steep descents, which are far harder on
the feet than ascents, you do not fully know what the weak points are.
Also nails have a way of springing into active being when you have been
through a bog or two. The inch map is in absolute necessity for the
mildest mountaineering, and half-inch maps with contours 250 yards apart
are perilous in the extreme. The electric torch is chiefly comforting, but
may be actively useful as an adjunct to the whistle, particularly in cases
of accident to a walker not surrounded by mist. It can be lashed to the
end of a stick and waved.
Before setting out on an
expedition from one point to another, always try to inform somebody at the
starting-point as to your route and destination, and promise this same
person (who should be possessed of some gumption) that you will send back
word of your safe arrival within a reasonable interval. This will go some
way towards safeguarding you against serious accidents, and serious
accidents can happen in Scotland.
Naismith's Formula
is a convenient means of calculating beforehand how long you must allow
for covering any given distance. For refinements there is another formula
furnished by Monkhouse in his On Foot in North Wales, but Naismith was a
Scot and his formula is hard to beat for practical purposes. It is based
on the factors of distance and height. The normal speed of walkers does
not greatly vary, and the weight carried makes little difference, except,
be it noted, during steep descents, when it adds considerably to the task
of endurance and accordingly adds to the after-state of fatigue if you
have much further to go on the level. For your calculation you allow an
hour for every three miles and an extra half-hour for every 1000 feet you
mean to climb. Take also into account storms, bogs, rests, sleeps, losing
your way or going back on your tracks for something left behind. If you
propose to cover twenty-two miles and to climb in the course of the day
6000 feet, you may reckon on spending 7½ hours plus 3 hours = 10½ hours
exclusive of your extras, i.e. on your feet. This enables you to send a
message beforehand to your destination as well as leaving the information
behind you.
Always remember that, while
water in Scotland, for drinking or bathing, is mercifully plentiful and
exquisitely fresh, the springs are often too cold for safety in drinking,
and that icy water when you are hot and tired has the effect of spoiling
your wind, while it may also upset your stomach. Therefore warm it in the
sun or in your cupped hands before you drink. If you want a drink that
will sustain as well as refresh you, put a little oatmeal in your horn
tumbler and fill up with water, stirring well before you drink, and
letting the oatmeal settle first. You can then eat the oatmeal as well if
you like. It is nice stuff to chew and promotes saliva. Further, oatmeal
with chocolate serves well as a meal if you are storm-stayed. If you have
salt, water and a fire you can make it into porridge, or you can soak it
in cold water and eat it afterwards, or you can fry trout rubbed in it on
a stone, first cleaning and slitting the fish.
But this brings us to
CAMPING,
about which you probably
know a lot already if you are thinking of doing it. Perhaps, however, a
few specially Scottish precautions and advices may be useful to you. Here
are some.
A piece of wire-netting
encircling the fire three-quarters of the way round, fixed upright like a
little fence, is a help to camp cooking. You can fix sticks in it with
various foods impaled on their ends. This keeps you from burning your
hands and saves carrying many metal vessels. If you do burn yourself it is
better to treat burns with very strong tea or with bicarbonate of soda
than with oil. The wire-netting serves also for actual grilling when laid
over a hot fire.
Always carry spare washers
and a spanner if you use a Primus.
The lid of a saucepan
reversed and put on the pot while something is cooking, or water being
boiled, serves as an additional vessel for cooking such things as tomatoes
or for warming up other foods. A good grill can be done on a clean spade
or plate of iron, but there is now on the market a sort of corrugated iron
pan which grills admirably on oil or a fire and can be used also as a
frying-pan.
Midges, gnats and clegs,
the first and last mentioned being particularly troublesome in Scotland,
will not attack you readily if you have washed your face and hands and
legs in water in which some Epsom salts have been dissolved. See that you
do not wipe all traces of the salts off with the towel. Wearing fronds of
bracken or pieces of bog-myrtle round the back of the hat and hanging down
over the neck and shoulders helps to keep off both flies and strong sun.
The sun can shine fiercely in Scotland at times.
When a thorn or deep
splinter has run into the hand or foot and is extracted, do not use
iodine, but rather apply first for a time a wet compress of bread and
water or of hot water or milk. This helps to draw out any dirt or poison
there may be far under the skin, while iodine affects only the top and
trouble sometimes results. Iodine should always be carried, but it should,
in the above-mentioned cases, be applied after the poultice. Iodine is
good for most insect bites, but bicarbonate of soda is even more
effective, being strongly antacid. A small packet takes up little room and
will come in useful in many ways, including treatment for sunburn.
Those who suffer from cramp
should always carry a needle somewhere. In the severest attacks a quick
prick with the point of the needle will give sufficient shock to the
adjoining nerves to allay the onslaught. Swimmers frequently carry a
needle concealed in the cap where it is protected from the water.
To catch a crab on the
shore without letting it bite you, seize it by the shell of its back using
your thumb and third finger, arching the forefinger, the third finger and
the little finger as high up in the air as possible. There is then no
possibility of your getting hurt if you do not lose your head, and in this
way you may convey your catch from pool to pot and eat him fresh.
Celestial Tea - a
fountain that can cure
The ills of passion, and can free the fair
From frowns and sighs from disappointment earned.
To her, ye fair, in adoration bow!
So wrote Robert Fergusson
when tea was something of a novelty in Scotland. The Scotch are now, if
anything, more perfervid tea-drinkers than the English. But it is not
everybody that knows how to make what is the best cup of this best of hot
drinks in a hostel or on a camp-fire, using only a single vessel to do it.
The method, patronised by Scottish navvies, is simplicity itself and has
the additional virtue of economising with the tea, as only half the amount
is required to obtain the same strength as you get by using a teapot and
kettle. In a pot, saucepan or tin put as much cold water as you will want
for your drink and scatter over the surface half the amount of tea you
would measure out in the usual way. Bring the water to the boil but do not
let it boil for even an instant when it does come to the boil. Take it off
the fire and stir it once. The tea will go to the bottom and you can pour
the clear golden liquid straight into the cups. It should not taste in the
slightest degree stewed. The same procedure makes admirable coffee.
TO MAKE A PEAT FIRE
In some parts of Scotland,
as in Orkney, where there is practically no wood and coal is out of the
question by reason of its expense, peat is the only fuel, and a fire of
peat once started is not allowed to go out over-night. True stories are
told of married couples who, Wing lighted their peat fire on the cottage
hearth e day of their marriage, have never let it go out throughout a long
married life. In the ordinary way, however, peat may be used either as an
adjunct to a coal fire, or with wood, or simply to keep a fire that has
been started with wood and coal going all night in a smothered fashion so
that it needs only stirring, blowing up and additional fuel first thing in
the morning. For this last purpose damp peats are the best, but for
starting a peat fire the turves must be absolutely dry. The ideal hearth
for a peat fire is a plain flat stone, and the kindling is done with paper
and chips or dry heather roots and small dry shavings of peat until all
has caught, when larger pieces of peat are added. Once the fire is going
it is kept in by the process known as "smooring" (Gaelic, smalhadh), which
is a symbolic ceremony. The embers are spread out evenly on the hearth and
formed into a circle, which is divided into three equal sections leaving a
small boss in the middle. A peat is then laid between each section, each
peat touching the boss, which forms the common centre. The first peat is
laid down in the name of the God of Life, the second in the name of the
God of Peace, the third in the name of the God of Grace. The whole is then
covered with ashes so that every particle of fire is hidden and subdued
without actually being put out, this being done in the name of the Three
of Light. The central heap, which remains slightly higher than the rest,
is called "Tualla an Tri" or the Hearth of the Three. When all is
accomplished the smoorer closes his or her eyes, stretches out the right
hand, and speaks aloud a smooring prayer similar to the kindling prayer
found in our Lucky Numbers which is appropriate to blowing up the fire in
the morning. The southern habit of throwing stray peats on a coal fire is
no doubt cheerful, but it is a shameful waste of good peat.
BOG-MYRTLE CANDLES
If you should happen to be
near a really good bog in May or June, when the bog-myrtle is in bud, you
can make bog-myrtle candles. Like all such under-takings, it is an
undertaking, but it may amuse you to try it. The candles are guaranteed to
burn (with what the books of words call "a soft light") and, whilst doing
so, they smell of the plant from which they are derived. Can one smell
fairer than this?
Pick a bucketful of the
buds, choosing those that are red and tight, and keeping them as free from
grass and moss as you can. Pour over them two bucketfuls of boiling,
well-salted water, bruise and stir well for ten minutes, strain the liquid
through butter-muslin, and leave it to cool. When cold it will be covered
by a layer of wax. Take this and use, either alone or mixed with an equal
quantity of white paraffin wax, for your candle-making. Home-made candles,
as you probably know, are made by melting the wax or tallow and repeatedly
dipping into it the cotton wicks, letting each coating cool before the
next is added, until your candle seems to you to be thick enough, when you
stop. There will be no mistaking your bog-myrtle candle for the commercial
kind, even when it is finished. For one thing, there's the scent.
An ordinary bucketful of
buds should produce enough bog-wax to make two candles. With paraffin wax
added they should produce four. But if it is birthday candles you want,
you might be able to deck an almost adult birthday cake from the same
amount. And, of course, for the modest, there are tapers.
HOW TO MAKE A HEATHER BED
From Beltane (May 1st, O.S.)
to Samhuinn or Hallowe'en (October 31st, O.S.) the Highland herds,
accompanying their cattle to their summer pastures on the hills, used to
sleep in sheilings or rough huts. They took trouble in making their
heather bed on which they lay all the nights of these six months, and
campers and others may like to know precisely how they made them. Heather
is a better substance than bracken for a mattress, although, where bracken
is more plentiful than heather, it is not bad. Bracken is best stuffed
into a strong mattress-case and shaken up now and again. Heather needs
considerably more manipulation, but when properly used makes a far
springier and more enduring couch. Strictly speaking it requires a
framework of logs, or a partial framework composed of two logs lashed to
an angle at one end and having the other ends braced against a wall in the
corner of a shed or room. Inside this frame the heather-stalks - all about
9 inches long and chosen from the springiest you can find - should be
packed as thick and close as it will stand, as if growing out of the
floor, but slanting slightly toward the head of the bed. If a permanent
bed of heather is wanted in a cottage or country house, a good plan is to
rip the old spring out of a wooden bed-frame. The heather can then be
renewed every six months or so. When cutting the heather see that it has
as little root as possible, and dry it thoroughly in the sun before making
your bed. The heather bed is yielding as well as springy. It retains a
pleasant fragrance for a long time. And it has the reputation for giving
refreshing slumbers, soothing the nerves and restoring the vigour to
aching limbs.
HOSTEL MODES AND MANNERS
Those who make or intend to
make use of the Scottish Youth Hostels are here reminded that the Hostel
is a new institution which is of most ancient origin. Its uses commend
themselves to all travellers who walk or cycle through the country with
slender purses, but such travellers ought not to forget that more delicate
manners and a greater exercise of courtesy are demanded of hostel dwellers
than of those who attend house parties in rich houses. Cadgers and
borrowers can spoil a week-end for other holidaymakers, who, perhaps, have
been saving and scraping through many months of toil for their single
outing of the year. Turns have to be taken in washing and cooking. Outfits
should be complete. Solitary foot-passengers should be careful not to
attach themselves, without the most pressing invitation, to carefully
selected parties. Already a body of legend is growing up of high-heeled
and improvident walkers who throw themselves unmercifully on the mercies
of others who have taken more trouble to think things out beforehand. If
you have nothing but weaknesses to offer to the general store, don't offer
them. But if you can sing or cook, throw your shyness to the winds and go
ahead. You may make the friends of a lifetime. A thorough examination
knowledge of this book should go a long way towards making you popular.
And here are three small items by which you may begin to show your worth:
Cold Porridge. -
Never throw it away. Carry with you a penny packet of mixed herbs and of
dried, chopped parsley (if you cannot get fresh, which is better). Stiffen
the cold porridge with bread crumbs and season it with salt, pepper and
herbs. Spread it thickly on thin rashers of bacon for yourself or anybody
upon whom your fancy is fixed. Roll up the bacon and tie it with a thread.
Fry the rolled bacon and serve either with fried eggs or on toast or bread
fried in bacon fat. See that you serve it very hot. You will be made
welcome after this and may be asked to sing of an evening.
Green Dumplings. -
If you cannot sing, you can add to the evening stew a few Green Dumplings
- that is, if your trip takes place at the time of the year when things
are covered with their first budding greenness. The dumplings are made in
the ordinary way with suet and flour seasoned with pepper and salt, but
they are green with some of everything that grows in spring freshness,
which you gather unobtrusively during the day. Pick the green buds of
hawthorn, the succulent tips of nettles, grass, and other green things,
remembering that in this condition nothing is poisonous, include dandelion
leaves, daisy stems, shoots of young corn and turnip-tops or anything that
tastes sweet and harmless. Wash them and chop them fine. Work them into
your dough till it is green through and through. For soups make small
dumplings not more than an inch across: for stews and meats make them
larger so that they can be cut up. They go with anything, are delicious
and play the part of a salad in wholesomeness.
Sausages. - Without
them the hostel could not exist, and the Scotch sausage is the best in the
world. Never suffer them to be pricked with a fork before you fry them.
Instead dredge them lightly with flour and then rub them smooth. Always
put a small piece of butter or dripping in a clean pan before you put the
sausages on the fire. Fry them slowly, shaking every now and then and
turning till equally done all round. The green dumplings eat well with
them and serve instead of potatoes.
THE HOSTEL PILLOW. - Users
of hostels are supposed to carry with them their own plate, mug, knife,
fork and spoon. Also their own sheet sewed together to form a bag into
which they insinuate their persons for sleeping. Blankets and other
bedding is provided. But the pillows are hard and, being stuffed with
straw, sometimes prickly. A bathing-dress of the regulation swimming-suit
kind is not only useful for bathing in, but, when drawn over the hostel
pillow, makes a comforting extra pillow-case. If you do not believe this,
or if you are too fastidious to resort to it, you will be well advised to
carry a pillow-case in your rucksack. You will further do well to carry
your own towels, together with a couple of dish-cloths and some
soap-flakes with which to wash both. If you are one of those who cannot
walk more than twelve miles in a day without suffering, do not be
persuaded into joining walkers who propose a twenty-mile walk. Even the
green dumplings will not then
save you from general execration.
But perhaps you know more about
camping and about hostels than we do, in which event you can defiantly
chant the following song by A. S. Wallace to any tune you like—if you can
get it to fit.
HOME AGAIN
Yes, I used the extra overcoat you sent,
And for blankets I’d enough to make me smother,
But I didn’t need the oilskin in the tent—
Oh, no, mother!
Yes, it’s true I had no change of underwear,
But I borrowed some from Jimmy Thomson’s brother,
He was staying in a cottage quite near there—
Oh, yes, mother!
No, we really never worried at the storm;
In the evenings? Well—er—we read to one another,
Or conversed on—University reform—
Oh, yes, mother!
Yes, we’ve all enjoyed the camping very well;
It’s a finer life, I think, than any other.
What? It’s cheaper to put up at an hotel?
Oh, no, mother!
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