Contour Lines
Far More Than Wrinkled Brown Lines on a Map
As I put pen to paper it pains me to know that in today’s cell phone technology driven GPS “land navigation” environment, many folks are reading the title & thinking to themselves:
“Contour lines? What’s this guy yammering about now? Sounds pretty boring to me. Who reads maps anymore? All I need is my trusty cell phone GPS. Welcome to the 21st century, pal.”
The resulting sad truth being, the folks who would benefit the most from its content won’t ever read it. We’ll likely all read about them though, soon enough.
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My father began ingraining the importance of understanding & appreciating the full value of contour lines in me at a very young age, on the South Meadows side of Mount Marcy’s high peaks region, where we spent many days & nights together on father/son camping trips, hunts & hikes.
I learned from Dad to read a topographical map, understand contour lines, recognize basic terrain features (hill, ridge, valley, saddle, depression- with draw, spur & cliff getting honorable mention), orient a lensatic compass to a map, and, when afield, navigate those wrinkled brown lines using both tools in concert.
My father took pains to teach me the importance of always, before heading off trail, checking & knowing my safety azimuth. For those who don’t know, in my own layman’s terms, a safety azimuth is the “save my ass when I’m disoriented, turned around or lost” compass heading that will take me back up or down hell’s half acre contour lines to a manmade linear feature such as a road or trail. Works like a charm, as long as I remember to shoot it back to the trail I just left the minute I step off it. Although, there have admittedly been times, when the hike back to my desired rendezvous point (like the old parking adjacent to the sign in register by the bridge at South Meadows), was far longer than I would have liked it to be. At least I was able to find my way back to the trail & get there eventually.
Which was different from a back azimuth, which my dad also taught me to use, and was more useful once we’d pitched a camp & I wanted to bushwack my up the ridge hoping to flush a partridge or snowshoe. A back azimuth only worked though if I shot an azimuth and followed it in the 1st place, which most times I didn’t, which meant I would end up falling back on my safety azimuth & a circuitous twighlight route back up or down the trail, one palpitating teen heartbeat short of “that lost feeling” panic. A far more more frequent state affairs for young me than I would ever admit when I was out hunting, either with my dad or alone, up and down the old South Meadow’s truck trail’s densely contoured terrain features.
I used to hike in & out of Colden navigating the Misery Mile’s steep contour lines, sometimes twice in one day, without care or thought.
There was a time when I’d pack my Kelty internal frame pack with a night’s worth of gear, grab my shotgun, negotiate the steep contour lines up into Phelps Mountain’s ridges, hunt until dark, kindle a fire, throw on a hunter’s stew, roll out my sub zero gortex bag, then sleep under the stars. I’d wake up at 1st light, brush the night’s snow off my bag, rekindle my fire, recharge with a quick breakfast of instant oatmeal & hot cocoa, then hunt Klondike Brook’s contour lines all day again.
But those days, along with my father, have passed.
I was fortunate enough, however, to have inherited Dad’s set of hand collated, cheese cloth mounted, contour lined Adirondack Region maps.
It’s important to recognize, understand & appreciate the full value of contour lines before heading afield. A highly valuable and, unfortunately I fear, in this cell phone driven age, increasingly lost art.
But whether on a map or a grey beard’s grizzled brow, contour lines hold a wealth of information. To me, contour lines represent experience, wisdom & knowledge.
Ignorance of contour lines is risky business & comes at great peril.
Learn to understand & appreciate the full value of those wrinkled brown lines.
I’ve said it before & I’ll say it again:
“Don’t be that guy.”
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Until Our Trails Cross Again:
ADKO
About The Author
rdmonroe5
Lifelong NYS resident. Raised in Saranac Lake. Cornell graduate(ROTC). Army veteran, Airborne/Ranger qualified, 10th Mtn Div, stints in Honduras and with JTF VI. 3rd degree Black Belt; 3x cancer survivor; published writer with several featured stories in Adirondack Life Magazine. Residing in Watertown NY with wife Robin & our 3 adult children. Loving Life. Living in the Day I am in.
Good lesson but makes me miss your dad!
His jackknife’s always in my pocket. I’m never alone.
Even veteran Adk men get lost ! But they always say , if you get lost come straight back to camp !! LoL Merry Holidays to you and yours !!
Lost & unlost more times than I care to count. Thank the Lord (& my dad) for that safety-azimuth! Thank you for reading & commenting. Happy holidays!
Re: contour lines.
How correct you are a Dick!
It is fortunate that we both grew up and had experience in the woods in the days before the Internet and cell phones and GPS when knowing how to read a contour map and use an app compass or not an option if you were going to stay safe, particularly off trail in the woods .
Map, compass & a good set of drumsticks. What more does a guy need? Always great to hear from you Bob. Happy Holidays!
Thank you Dick for the Holiday wishes.
Wishing you and all the Monroe’s a Healthy and Happy Holidays.
And yes, drumsticks for all !
One of my first experiences with a contour map was at Cornell ROTC somewhere out in the woods. I expect you probably did quite well. We were paired up and I lead what I thought was the objective of getting to the end point. We were the first ones there and disappointed to find out we were also required to collect the way points along what should have been a much longer journey. I also remember an old saying; “You take the high road and I’ll take the low road and I’ll get there before you.” or something like that. I always felt the low road was easier going and required less stops to rest. I have to agree that GPS has its limits as it may not tell the whole story.
Hello Alan, We’ve likely had this conversation before, if so, my apologies, but what years were you in Cornell ROTC? I was a Cornell cadet from fall ’81- Fall ’85 ( I was on the “extended student” plan i.e. the “took me a bit longer than 4 years to get my crap together” plan. Not because of ROTC, I did fine there, but becuase of all the other stuff they made me try (& mostly fail) to learn. Beyond my father, most of my map reading & land nav skills came from the military. Between being the intelligence officer in a 10th Mountain Divison light infantry battalion, Ranger School, the infantry officer advanced course, terrain analysis, mission planning, map reading & land navigation skills were a core part of my lifeblood. My favorite saying, along the lines of yours, came from Ranger School, Florida (Swamp) phase as we slogged through Everglades swamps rife with cottonmouths, gators & waist deep foul smelling mud holes, the RI’s would tell us, “when you get lost in a swamp, find flowing water, for beneath flowing water lies the firm ground”. I loved that saying so much it is painted on the side of my ADK Outlaw Zen boat canoe. I honestly don’t know a great deal about GPS. we were still calculating routes & executing land nav with military grid maps, protractors & compasses during my time in the service (’85-’91). GPS was just coming on line at about the time I got out. anyways, thank you as always for reading & commenting. I always enjoy chatting with you.