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Maps Are Looking Lost, Tim Dawson (2009)
First published in The
Sunday Times 13 September 2009
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Standing at a tiny crossroads in west Suffolk the other day, I found
myself completely lost despite the map strapped to my handlebars.
Worse than my directional difficulties, however, was the quickly dissolving
faith in one of cycling's great institutions the Bartholomew's
half-inch-to-the-mile map.
Let me explain. Bart's map series was long known as the best map for
serious pedal pushers. Each sheet covered an area of roughly 60 miles
across most corresponding to an entire traditional county. Different
colours, from green to brown to white, showed where the hills were. And
in the early days, members of the Cyclists' Touring Club helped keep the
cartography up to date.
The real half-inch maps disappeared in 1974. So when I learnt that a
new series was in production, my heart quickened. Published by Goldeneye,
they are squarely aimed at cyclists, with National Cycle Network routes
clearly shown, as well as other suggested cycle routes. The maps are laminated
in protective plastic and, like Barts of old, the folds lend themselves
perfectly to cycle touring.
None of which made my search for the road to Hawstead, and thence to
Shimpling any easier. Because although a half-inch-to-themile scale suited
cycling during the century that Bart's maps were in production, the same
is no longer true. Way back when, it was perfectly plausible for cycle
tourists to travel on main roads. Fifty years ago, anyone seeking to journey
between Bury St Edmunds and Sudbury, as I was, would have taken the A134.
On that road today, you will be passed by upwards of 30 cars every minute
hence my search for the tiny parallel route. For that kind of navigation,
however, the old Bart's scale is all but hopeless. Finding a small road
particularly coming out of a town, or when you have gone a mile
or two off track is near impossible. The problem is, the detail
is just too tiny. A slightly tricky road layout say, where you
need to go right and then immediately left is all but impossible
to pick out, particularly if you're trying to glance down at the map without
stopping. I gave up. Using the sun, I headed east, hoping to find the
signposted national cycle route 51.
It may be, of course, that I've been spoilt by sat nav. These devices
are not suited to every kind of cycling, but for making quick progress
on unknown roads, they are a revelation.
I use the simplest, a Garmin Geko. It's not specifically for cycling,
but you can buy a handlebar mount for it. The OS 1:50,000 maps are resident
on my computer, on which I pick out the route that I want to take. This
is a slightly laborious job (some of the more cycle-specific models come
with more pre-loaded maps) but the rewards are great. Upload the route
to the mobile-phone-sized sat nav, clip it to the handlebars, and once
it has locked on to the satellites, an arrow appears in its screen. Then
it is simply a case of following the arrow as it guides you through the
landscape. It counts down the metres to each new junction, and then points
you which way to go.
It's true that no map has ever run flat its batteries as my sat
nav has. But in every other respect, it is a far more effective aid to
speeding through the car-free countryside.
TD Sep 09
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