A Walker's Alphabet

From Chapter 17 (Questions):

 If you ever get a chance to walk with others, as I do so frequently, you will note that there are long periods on the footpath during which there is no conversation whatsoever. People need to catch their breath, consider their responses, and do nothing but think – and words are not always helpful at such moments. When there is chatter much of it is devoted to questions, and we cannot get a better introduction to the flavour of the walking enterprise than by addressing ourselves, once again, to some of those queries that have characterized our time on the trail.

1. Question: "Do you think it's still raining?"
This question was put to me by Paul Herzog as we reached mile three on our first Derbyshire walk in 1986. We had taken refuge from a brief shower in Rowsley's Peacock Hotel, whose proprietors had been kind enough to provide our youngsters with tea and biscuits. I was about to mislay my walking stick behind a curtain – which meant that half an hour later I would be returning to the hotel to reclaim it. The question that Paul put to me is somewhat typical of that climate of dependency that arises when too much responsibility is placed on the shoulders of the leader of the expedition. I try to encourage initiative and self-reliance, and therefore my answer was a bit curt.
Response: "Try looking out the window."

2. Question:  "Are you still serving tea?" 
This question was asked by me, during the same White Peak Way walk – on the following afternoon, as a matter of fact. It was mid-afternoon on a radiant fall day, we had just reached the beautiful Dove Valley and the kids were agitating for a refreshment stop. "Is there any place we can buy cokes?" and "Is there a bathroom we can use?" had already been tried out repeatedly, to no effect, but I had promised them that there would be a café in Milldale. Now, as I penetrated its empty precincts, I was momentarily taken aback – suppose it were just closing? – and this explains the context of my question. The man behind the counter said nothing but he did nod in affirmation. My rejoinder appears below.
Response: "In that case, I'd like a table for thirteen." 

3. Question: "Why are there no public conveniences in Moulsford?"
Janet Lockwood asked this question as we made our way from the village railway halt back to the Thames, where we would spend a day making progress upriver. It is hard to convey to the novice walker just how rare the sighting of a countryside toilet can be. You won't find them in any station that does not have a ticket counter and many rural sites are unmanned. Nor is it likely that a somewhat disjointed hamlet, one that doesn't even have what we might dignify as a town centre, would provide an amenity as useful as a loo. If it did, people might stop there. It was too early for the pub – and it was a bit downriver anyway, as I recall, so Janet was out of luck.
Response: "Because there aren't."

11. Question: "We don't have to go up that, do we?"
This is another oft-repeated question and continues the tradition of holding the leader of the expedition responsible not only for the weather but the terrain. Students asked this question on the third day of our 1986 Derbyshire walk as we left the roadbed of the Leek and Manifold Light Railway and used a footbridge to reach the base of a high crag containing our lunchtime refuge, Thor's Cave. We really hadn't encountered many contours on this day so far, and this climb, on the way to Wetton village, was about the last bit of uphill for the day. Of course I did slip on a slimy section, crashed to the ground in my wet suit and fell on my camera, but Tosh was there, still with the instincts of the journalism teacher, to shout, "Quick, someone take his picture!" This is what I get for dealing so brusquely with the original question.
Response: "Yes, get on with it!"

20. Question: "Will we do this again?"
Tosh gets the last question. She asked it as our train neared Euston Station in October, 1984  – at the end of our very first walking trip with students. Although the kids had loved this Alternatives outing she was shellshocked after the experience and neither of us was convinced that we were made for this kind of caper. Indeed, we sat out the next opportunity and showed kids movies in a darkened classroom for three days. But then we started to think it over again and we realized that we could learn from all the mistakes we had made and that it really was something we could do well and enjoyably. So the response, in my case, was one that I would repeat on ten separate occasions in the future.
Response: "Yes."