IT TAKES ALL SORTS

A SPOTTER’S GUIDE TO FELLGOING FOLK.

Wandering round the Lake District, we rub shoulders with many different types of people. While acknowledging that it’s often misleading or downright dangerous to stereotype, sometimes it’s hard to resist categorising fellow fell walkers. Here I provide guidance to help with identification of the various species.

Navigationally Challenged Meanderer (Cartographica Clueless)

Plumage

Trainers and inappropriate clothing. Readily identified by a vacant, apelike grin as they walk aimlessly round in circles.

Habitat

Any high ground where they really shouldn’t be. Never spotted on a navigation course or by the map and compass shelves in outdoor shops.

Typical behaviour

Seen staring at an AA road atlas, or at best a google map, heading confidently into the wrong valley. Apt to call mountain rescue at the first sign of heavy rain, tiredness or anxiety over route finding.

Lesser Cumbrian Fell Runner (Uppa Fellsharpishli) – not to with be confused with the Southern Trail Runner (Running Diva), a quite different species.

Plumage

Specialist shoes add a much-needed splash of colour, but otherwise appearance is drab, comprising faded shorts and a vest that the more genteel would have relegated to dish-cloth status long ago. Deeply tanned, with wind burnt cheeks and (curiously knobbly) knees.

Habitat

Any precipitous fell side that seems insurmountable to the average rational human being. Events where they can compete with likeminded souls. Prefer to roost in camper vans and tents.

Typical behaviour

Our fastest hill dwelling species, particularly on suicidally steep descents. Not given to crowing about their achievements: this distinguishes them from the Southern Trail Runner. Aspire to and frequently achieve superhuman feats of endurance which belie their undernourished appearance.

Duke of Edinburgh Award Participant (happi kid).

Plumage

Tired but (usually) happy appearance, often in matching waterproof and tee shirt bearing the name of school or youth group. Necks are festooned with map cases and they carry rucksacks that seem bigger than themselves.

Habitat

When in flight, found perching on high Lakeland paths. When resting, chat in groups, recounting glory days on the fells while waiting to be picked up by assessors.

Typical behaviour

Usual flock comprises 6 to 8 juveniles, making more noise than you’d think humanly possible – this is due to the happy wanderers being high on the joy of the hills. Perhaps a few are discovering a lifelong love affair – or, if the weather’s been unkind, perhaps not. Witnessing their delightful call provides us all with a timely reminder that not all juveniles are alcopop swilling wastrels (Townus Sado) and that perhaps there is some hope for the future after all.

Fantasist (Bigin Meselupp)

Plumage

Combat ready, in army surplus keks and camouflage jacket. Note that freedom of movement is restricted by hammock, foldable shovel, water purification kit, military ration pack, pocket fishing set, Leatherman multi-tool and a Bear Grylls branded tin mug (used for drinking own urine when stranded in the desert, or when all the bar offers is continental lager), All of this is carried in a 60 litre “Bergen” rucksack (as seen in every book ever written by former SAS soldiers).

Habitat

Bar rooms, bus stops, railway station buffets, book shops with remaindered memoirs of ex- special forces members. Rarely seen on the hills or more than 2 miles from a car park.

Typical Behaviour

When not strolling along the waterfront at Bowness, labouring under a fully laden pack, can be found incoherently cursing Bear Grylls while gagging on his own piss or submerged in an inexpertly dug latrine pit.

Wainwright Worshipper (Saintli Alf)

Plumage

Normally bred in northern climes and very easily confused with the closely related Professional Northerner (Clog Werra). But, if you look carefully you will discern the tell-tale copy of one of the seven illustrated guides. Sometimes also display a “Wainwright Society” badge.

Habitat

Any one of 214 Lakeland summits. Close by beer pumps calling for Wainwright ale, usually blissfully unaware of the fact that it’s brewed in Wolverhampton by Carlsberg/Marston’s brewery, not in Lakeland.

Typical behaviour

Gazing reverently at one of the great man’s books or solemnly climbing Haystacks to worship at the altar of the mountain messiah. Look out for the idiosyncratic “ticking” gesture as they update checklist or map. 

Real Ale Fan (Pisstas Newtus)

Plumage

Prominent purple nose, unsightly paunch and stumbling gait. Identifiable at beer festivals by the personal pewter tankard adorning an ample waist.

Habitat

CAMRA listed pubs and micro-breweries. Never feed where only keg beer is available.

Typical behaviour

Their distinctive, incessant tales of ales have been known to bore folk rigid. Unlike the “Wainwright Worshipper”, would not mistake Wainwright ale for a local brew. Listen for their call of “Is this a local ale?” Repeated at increasingly loud volume until answered by the traditional barman’s response, an angry “wait your fu*king turn pal”.

Home Counties Hiker (Posh Plodda)

Plumage

Only seen in the summer months, clothed head to toe in garishly coloured “Rohan” outdoor wear topped off with a “Silly Tilley Hat”. Bedecked with badges commemorating epic ascents of minor fells such as Cat Bells (at 1,480ft, the 189th highest Wainwright). In winter some of them migrate to warmer climes in Provence, the Auvergne, Majorca or the Canary Islands.

Habitat

Any of several Michelin starred restaurants found in the Lakes, or other high-end eateries (note: would not be seen dead in Wetherspoons). Common anywhere remotely connected to Beatrix Potter or Williams Wordsworth. Flock to open topped buses down Borrowdale, but only after 9.30am, when bus passes become valid.

Typical behaviour

Recognisable by their excitable and rather irritating “clucking”, heard as they recount their “adventures” or enthuse over the latest Julia Bradbury book. Note that they only interact with ramblers on similar migratory routes and tend to avoid contact with the indigenous northern species (Common asmuck fellsman). Huge, colourful murmurations often seen round the deli counter in Booths supermarket, inside the “Herdie” shop or at the Reghed Centre.

To celebrate the Home Counties Rambler, let’s finish with a good old fashioned sing along of one that Ewan McColl didn’t write, “The Colchester Rambler”. If you’re not familiar with the tune, here’s a reminder.

Chorus

I’m a rambler, I’m a rambler, from Colchester way         

I get all my pleasure the mild lowland way                                   

I may be a banker on Monday

But I am a w****** on Sunday.

Verse 1

I never tire of telling                    

Of my walk up Helvellyn

I’ve staggered up Skidda as well                              

I’ve wandered on Shap

Got lost, with no map               

And found myself feeling unwell

I’ve watched all of Julia’s programmes

And yet I keep getting it wrong   

I think I should go back to Essex         

To the place where I really belong

Repeat chorus and the 27 other verses.

POSTSCRIPT

A friend has suggested I add another category to accommodate me (and him):

Habitat

As far from anyone else as possible. The grumpy old man doesn’t like sharing his outdoor environment but is relatively content with chewing the fat with like-minded folk in the bar.

Plumage

Whatever he can afford from his state pension.

This was penned by Ian Tupman, who, as well as being perceptive and having a nice turn of phrase, excels at making entertaining videos featuring his many awesome adventures in the mountains with his adorable dog, Meg. Here’s a link to Ian’s YouTube channel.

I leave it to others to identify Typical Behaviour, but suggest “moves with all the grace and sophistication of one half his age. Also seriously delusional”.