How to Walk a Ridge on a Night You Can't Go—How Map Reading Quietly Develops Mountaineering Judgment

The sensation of your feet follows along in front of the map

Map reading and imaginary mountaineering—a way to spend nights when you can't go that I discovered.
Last Saturday, while listening to the sound of rain, I was walking along a ridge.

To be precise—I was just spreading out a topographical map of the Kyoto Round Trail at my dining table, with a cup of cold coffee in front of me.

Before I knew it, two hours had passed.

Where does the ridge extend from? Where does the valley drop off?

Just by tracing it with my finger, strangely, the sensation of my feet follows along.

As I approach the ridge of Higashiyama—my body knows in advance, "I'll be out of breath here." It also knows that things will get a little easier after crossing Mt. Daimonji.

What should I drink when I arrive at the planned campsite? What kind of wind will be blowing when I reach the ridge?

In front of a map, you can be as free as you want. I love this time immensely.

I thought I was just having fun, but it was training

One day, I realized something.

Since I started doing map-based daydreams often, the moments in the mountains where I think, "Ah, I know this" have increased.

I stopped stopping in front of steep climbs. Because my body already knew, "It will get a little easier after I get over this."

I remembered where the water source was without having to check.
Because I had passed that spot many times on the map.

I thought I was just having fun, but before I knew it, it had become preparation.
It wasn't until I came down from the mountain that I realized that was training.

My daydreams had become training.
—My mountaineering, changed by map reading.

A "discrepancy" is not a failure

Of course, daydreams aren't always correct.
In fact, they betray you more often than not.

There have been times when the water source I expected was dried up. There have also been times when a slope that should have been gentle was steeper than I thought.

But I didn't panic at that moment.

I realized that it was different from my delusions because I had been fantasizing about it—that's what I thought.

If I had come without thinking, it would have just been an "unexpected situation."

Because I knew the map, I could accept it as a "discrepancy." A discrepancy is not scary. A discrepancy is a dialogue.

I didn't get lost not because I was accurate, but
because I was able to notice the difference.

The time spent on the mountain is not the only part of mountaineering.

The nights spent in front of a map, the rainy days when I couldn't walk, and the afternoons spent idly wondering "why can't I go?"—I think all of that is time spent with the mountain.

That is how the things you love gradually take root within you.

The time you can't go deepens your connection to the mountain.

The next time I step onto the Kyoto Isshu Trail,
I'm sure I'll think, "I know this," again.

—I can't wait for my next mountain trip.

💡 Tips: Enjoying "Air Mountaineering" can also be a form of training.

You must have a mountain you couldn't go to as well.
Take out the map for that mountain tonight.

A 1/25,000 scale paper map or the YAMAP app on your phone is fine.
Just by tracing it with your finger, that mountain gets a little closer.

"Let's drink coffee here," "This steep climb looks tough."

The moment you think that, your mountaineering has already begun.

If you felt even a little excited reading this article, please click "Like."
Tell me in the comments which mountain you plan to "fantasize about climbing" tonight.

Let's go see the best scenery together, right from our desks.

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▶Next to read: [Oeyama Mountain Range/Aka-Aka Trail] Even though it was the same mountain, the world looked completely different.