Category: Norway
Previously overlooked opportunities for walking and hiking near Oslo
27th August 2025 During last summer, two trip ideas entered my mind, only for them not to move any further. One was centred in Inverness in Scotland, which might have been progressed last September if I was organised to make use of a spell of fine weather while I was back in the U.K. A feeling of commitment to my new base in Ireland was the cause of scuppering that one.
The other was more adventurous: a trip to America's Pacific Northwest that could have taken me to Oregon (Portland was a possibility) and Washington State (Seattle being the obvious hub to use). A combination of complexity, not wanting added exposure to ongoing political travails, the complexity of such a venture and having other matters on my plate meant that nothing came of it. Given what has been happening since January, I may choose to leave North American escapades on the long finger for now.
That brings my mind back to Europe. For one thing, Switzerland has seen a good deal of me this year, and I passed through France too. Otherwise, conference attendance could take me to Hamburg in Germany later in the year if things fall into place. While I passed through the country on my way to and from Innsbruck in 2017, a multi-day stay would be a first for me. Speaking of 2017, not was that the last time that I was in Austria, the same could be said for Norway. Returning to either feels long overdue.
The odd thing about my Norwegian trips in 2016 and 2017 was that both saw me continue out of Oslo to reach Bergen and Stavanger, respectively. To be fair, my second encounter was longer than the first. Even with wandering around the city centre and shore, and embarking on a fjord cruise, that still left its northern forests and lakes unfrequented. With some ongoing time away from work, I thought about putting that to rights, only for the weather not to be encouraging. In any case, I could do with some rest after all the upheaval of this year anyway.
Thus, I need to pop this on my shelf of ideas for now. As a non-driver, it helps that the city’s public transport network makes this green hinterland accessible. That means that there are options that are easy to reach by train or metro. With an eye on future possibilities, I want to log some of them here so that I and others have them to hand for reference. A look on AllTrails should reveal many others of the same ilk if more inspiration is needed.
Quick Escapes Near the City Centre
Vettakollen
For those who wish to keep travel time short, Vettakollen stands out as a quick escape, offering a dramatic panorama without a long approach. With metro and bus links from central Oslo, it involves a short ascent to a summit that looks over the Oslofjord with a clear line of sight to Holmenkollen at 419 metres above sea level. The effort-to-reward ratio is conspicuously generous, which explains the steady mix of locals and visitors at the top when the weather invites lingering. Because the hike is short, it fits well at the start or end of a day and pairs neatly with other nearby walking if time allows.
Frognerseteren to Sognsvann Traverse
Another near at hand favourite is the traverse between Frognerseteren and Sognsvann, a multi-kilometre path across the southern edge of Nordmarka that connects two metro termini. Starting at the end of line 1 at Frognerseteren (469 metres above sea level) or the end of line 5 at Sognsvann, it delivers a marked trail through varied terrain, including stands of mature forest, wetlands and stretches of single track. Both stations sit within a five-minute walk of trailheads and the route is fully reversible, so the choice of direction can align with wind, light or onward connections. There are multiple rest spots along the way, some with views and others tucked in quiet hollows, so progress can be as swift or leisurely as the day dictates.
Frognerseteren to Lake Store Tryvannet
Those seeking a gentler outing often favour the path from Frognerseteren Metro Station through the forests of Oslo's Nordmarka, covering approximately 9.4 kilometres. The trail begins at an elevation of 469 metres and passes over Tryvannshøgda at 529 metres before descending to Store Tryvannet lake and continuing to the historic Tryvannstua lodge. Hikers can expect moderate elevation changes through classic Nordic woodland scenery with scenic views over Oslo and the surrounding forests, particularly from the elevated sections. The route connects efficiently to public transport via Oslo Metro Line 1, allowing for flexible return options, including loops back through parallel trails or continuing to other stops like Sognsvann. Those seeking a shorter alternative can opt for the 3-kilometre variation from Frognerseteren to Tryvannstua, which avoids the full lake circuit while still providing forest views.
Medium-Distance Routes
Kolsåstoppen
Those who prefer a clearer objective with a touch more effort often turn to Kolsåstoppen. This is an 8 kilometre loop with about 360 metres of elevation gain, reached by public transport to the Stein Gård area (bus 150) and best from April to November. The path rises over rocky slabs to exposed bedrock where the view takes in Bærum, the city and the fjord beyond. The route consists of two peaks: Nordre Kolsås at 379 metres and Søndre Kolsås at 342 metres, with a picturesque small lake called Setertjern between them. The loop format avoids retracing steps, and the underfoot interest remains steady thanks to a mix of soil, roots and granite. It stands out because it delivers broad vistas within a half-day format and rewards a moderate push.
Skar, Lake Øyungen and Mellomkollen
From the Maridalen side of the city, a route linking Skar, Lake Øyungen and Mellomkollen threads through lush woodland to a viewpoint that rewards the modest climb. Reached via transport links into Maridalen (bus 51 to Skar from Nydalen station, or train on the Gjøvik Railway Line to Movatn station), the walk is mostly easy underfoot with a few slightly hilly sections on the way to the summit. The highlight is the outlook from Mellomkollen where Oslo and the Oslofjord lie spread beneath, a satisfying contrast to the lakes and forest passed earlier in the day. The total distance is approximately 12 kilometres, with 500 metres of elevation change. It suits walkers who enjoy a mix of shaded paths, open rock and a defined target.
Lake Circuits
Sognsvann
Sognsvann itself remains one of Oslo's most accessible nature gateways. The 3.3 kilometre circuit around the lake begins a short stroll from the terminus of metro line 5 and can be walked by most abilities. Those with a little more time can extend the outing to Ullevålseter along well-graded paths. The extension keeps the easy character but lengthens the experience, taking in charming woodland and occasional views while staying within reach of a frequent metro service back to the city.
Lake Nøklevann
On the city's eastern side, the circuit around Lake Nøklevann combines shoreline scenery with space to slow down. The trail loops around this 3 kilometre long lake on the outskirts of Oslo, covering approximately 8 kilometres in total. Accessible via metro line 3 to Bogerud, the route passes green areas where families spread blankets for sunbathing, ball games and picnics. It is the kind of setting where a short walk readily stretches into an extended day by the water.
Urban-Nature Blends
Akerselva River Trail
Not every walk leaves the urban fabric behind straight away. The Akerselva river trail threads a protected cultural corridor from Maridalen to the city centre and can be joined at many points. As the path follows the water, the surroundings shift from forested stretches to older industrial buildings, interspersed with waterfalls, swimming spots and places where anglers try their luck. It is a route as popular with commuters seeking a peaceful detour as it is with tourists on a day's sightseeing, promising a sense of urban wilderness without ever losing sight of Oslo's neighbourhoods. Because the full length is flexible, it can be broken into segments to match the time at hand.
Lysakerelven River Walk
A similar blend of variety without steep climbing characterises the Lysakerelven river walk. Starting near the Oslofjord and running upstream to Bogstadvannet, the river transitions from a tidal outlet to woodland cascades and contributes waterfalls, narrow valleys and calmer stretches under a leafy canopy. Buses and the metro offer access at several junctions, which makes it easy to plan a one-way walk and return from a different stop. For some, the trail forms a segment in a longer day that links other paths, while others treat it as a stand-alone outing that foregrounds the changing character of the watercourse.
Bygdøy Peninsula
For a taste of the sea and a different set of attractions, the Bygdøy peninsula offers a pleasant waterfront walk that can be extended along side-paths as energy allows. The main line follows the shore, with frequent views and easy access to resting and swimming spots. Cultural sites and museums lie within short detours of the route, allowing a combined day of gentle hiking and visits. The ambience is relaxed and comfortable, which makes it a common recommendation for visitors looking to balance city and nature in one sweep.
Longer Treks
Krokskogen
For those with time to go a little further, Krokskogen lies beyond the city boundary and promises deeper woods with longer crossings. Peaks such as Oppkuven at 704 metres and Gyrihaugen at 682 metres give clear objectives and tie the day together, especially when combined with historical trackways that cross the forest. It is a good choice when the aim is to spend a whole day among trees and quiet lakes with a summit stop built in.
Maridalen Routes
Maridalen broadens the field with routes that combine history, a sense of space and room to lengthen a circuit. The valley's patchwork of forest and water sits on the city's edge yet can feel unexpectedly quiet due to its low population density. One option begins on the Gjøvik Railway Line at Movatn station and travels south to Skar, passing terrain that varies enough to keep the mind engaged. A poignant detail along the way is the site of a Second World War plane crash, which adds a reflective note to an otherwise bucolic day. The loop around Maridalsvannet itself runs to 12.6 kilometres and typically takes a little over three hours for an average walker, though it is often used for mountain biking and running as well. Buses from Nydalen (bus 51) bring walkers into the valley and dogs are welcome on these routes provided they remain on a lead.
More on Those Adjoining Forest Areas
Nordmarka
Spanning approximately 430 square kilometres north of Oslo, this vast forested wilderness forms part of Oslomarka, a larger conservation area covering two-thirds of the Norwegian capital. The landscape features elevated viewpoints such as Mellomkollen and Vettakollen that provide sweeping panoramas of Oslo, alongside the highest peaks of Svarttjernshøgda at 719 metres and Kirkeberget at 630 metres, the latter serving as a historically significant parachute drop site for Norwegian resistance fighters during World War II. A network of public cabins scattered throughout the forest offers places to rest, enjoy refreshments or spend the night, whilst the well-marked trail system accommodates everyone from casual walkers to seasoned adventurers. Easily accessible by public transport from central Oslo minutes, this protected natural playground embodies the Norwegian concept of friluftsliv and provides locals with an integral space for hiking, running, cycling, picnicking, skiing and sledding just a short journey from urban life. Access points include Frognerseteren (metro line 1) and Sognsvann (metro line 5).
Østmarka
To the south-east, Østmarka offers a counterpart to Nordmarka with hills and lakes that sit slightly lower but give the same impression of stepping into broadleaf and pine woodland. Entry points are spread around the edge of the forest, which encourages experimentation over several days, using different approaches to assemble a picture of the area's character. Metro line 2 to Ellingsrudåsen provides access to the northwestern corner, while line 3 serves the Nøklevann area. As with Nordmarka, waymarked routes run between lakes and tops, so days can be set to a preferred length and linked to a return by public transport.
Bærumsmarka
Located west of Nordmarka as part of the Oslomarka wilderness, this forested area (covering 70 square kilometres) offers gently rolling hills, tranquil lakes and an extensive trail network that attracts fewer visitors than its more popular neighbour. The region carries historical significance, with visible remnants of coal pits and ironworks from previous centuries scattered along various routes. Visitors can reach the area within 30 to 40 minutes from central Oslo using metro, bus or car transport, with common entry points including Øverland, Fossum and Sørkedalen. Well-marked trails throughout the forest connect to both Nordmarka and Krokskogen, providing options for brief walks and extended hiking expeditions through the quieter paths of this western forest region.
Closing Remarks
While compiling the above, I encountered some comments regarding the seasonality of these routes. My interest here is in hiking rather than winter pursuits like cross-country skiing or snowshoeing, and that is reflected in the descriptions that you find above. Also, I assume self-sufficiency here and overlook the presence of any facilities offering refreshments. There is an embarrassment of riches here by all accounts, making the previous oversights all the more remarkable. Should the opportunity arises, there is every reason not to leave Oslo on a future return to Norway. Bergen, Stavanger, Trondheim and the Lofoten Islands may have to wait.
Last hurrahs
29th August 2024 These days, this time of year makes me wistful at the passing of summer. However, it was not always so. This also is the season when academic years start, so there are beginnings as well as endings. Even then, the decline in hours of daylight and dropping temperatures brought any attempts to hang onto a sense of summer to an unyielding halt.
Towards the end of my secondary schooling, the purchase of a new bicycle meant cycling it home. That was not only a sixteen-kilometre distance but a frustrating struggle against autumnal winds. That which was plausible in the summer months had become less easy away from them. There were a few more years of summertime cycling, building up distance with the passage of time, that not only met shortening evenings but also the commencing of studies again. That was broken when I moved to Edinburgh, meaning that my time in Ireland was much more limited.
With the end of my university years, the association of autumn with beginnings was broken. It all ended with a job search that preceded by a tour of the Scottish highlands and islands with my brother before a quick trip to Ireland. In truth, the continuity of a research degree throughout the year had faded the sense of autumnal beginnings anyway.
My career saw me move to England, where I had much more time for exploring than I ever did. Without the ebb and flow of academic life, it was all too tempting to try overlooking the seasons, especially when moving south took up so much of spring and summer. August was when the hills of Cheshire and Derbyshire still any prospects of exploring hill country by bike. Walking became the way forward. As the month ended, I made my first trip to Wales in mixed weather that was hinting that overlooking seasons was not an option.
In ensuing years, the range of experiences broadened. A few saw me returning to Edinburgh in August to note how autumnal the place could feel at that time of year. Academic pressures and lack of experience meant that I had been overlooking this. That even included a week of conference attendance in Aberdeen during my research degree. The sense was there yet not prioritised.
Sometimes, autumn can make amends for a less satisfying summer. Being soaked around Lorn and Lochaber during a week at the end of July was enough to send me north again. Numerous visits to the Lake District in August had not healed wounds that only a weekend visit to Lochaber at the end of August could do. The year after was wet for much of the time, and I moved house too. Thus, a muddy November hike from the Cat and Fiddle Inn to Rushton Spencer marked something of a beginning.
September is a month with its illusions too. There can be a lot of sun, so it is easy to think of endless summer. That certainly fitted a sunny weekend around Moffat, crowned by a stunning walk along the Southern Upland Way. The changing colours and closure of businesses at the end of the busy tourist season countermand this. The latter hit me while on a September visit to Gougane Barra with my parents. Still, autumn can offer its chances for partial continuity with local hikes through October, November and into December. There have been a few years of that too.
Seasons are not the only transitions that we meet in life. A change of employer once became a major career event for me, Before the turmoil that led to this, there were contrasting trips to Yorkshire, one in September and another in October. The first was to a sunny Wharfedale, while an often grey Ingleton became my lot for the second. After the changeover, my energy for walking trips was curtailed, yet there was an October stroll along the High Peak Trail and a November excursion to Church Stretton. Though work pressures grew after that, the wandering was much needed and happened more often than not. When even that was halted, local cycles and walks often provided release.
Family ageing, infirmity and bereavement took hold of a few years after that. Grieving continued through spring, beyond summer and into autumn. Nothing could stop an October hike from the Cat and Fiddle inn to Whaley Bridge, such were my needs at the time. The real end of August feel pervaded a weekend divided between Durham and York. This may have been the Summer Bank Holiday one in England, but it often just feels too late for it. As it happens, the same complaint can be levelled at the timing of the British Spring Bank Holiday weekend.
Feelings eased by the next autumn, though a weekend spent in mixed weather around Oban reflected a sense of political tumult that only got more intense in ensuing years. Eventually, a sense of release emerged to allow a memorable September Swiss escapade. Bern and Kleine Scheidegg were grey under autumn clouds, yet Geneva, Zermatt and Grindelwald continued the sunny theme. Inheritance matters lay ahead, but not before a November interlude around Warwick, Stratford-upon-Avon and Bath.
International travel was getting going for me, and dotted the year for a few weeks. An end-of-August trip to sunny Oslo and rainy Bergen bookended the summer the year after the Swiss trip. Inheritance matters were coming to a head to show that office work need not note the passing of seasons, unlike outdoor activities. They were to cause exhaustion, so a later autumn would see decompression at the start of a much-needed career break. That year, there was continuity of a sort from a week in Sweden in August to October day hikes in the Peak District and South Pennines.
Before the pandemic years, my freelancing faced an autumnal challenge that got addressed before the onset of restrictions. In September, there were visits to Oxford and Bath following a summer in British Columbia. The autumnal atmosphere of those, even if people were dressed in period costume around Bath for an event, reflected my mood at the time, for more things were ending than starting in that year.
The pandemic did nothing to halt hiking and, in 2020, even caused a resurgence of cycling. Getting outdoors then was much needed, resulting in a surprisingly rich year of day trips. That more or less ended at the end of September on a day that turned from sunny to grey as I walked from Hayfield to Chapel en le Frith. In the subsequent twelve months, things became less restricted, perhaps too quickly for my sensibilities. That made the discovery of Combs Moss near Buxton an uncrowded godsend during August and September that year. More were to be found when a new variant brought more restrictions around the end of the year.
Since then, the last few years have been about changing what I own. Some is being sold, and I now have a base in Cork that I can use. Manageability is what I am trying to improve now. More time has been spent in the outdoors as well, especially in Ireland. When it comes to the ending of summer, that does not feature so much, though. In the year before last, August was ended with a sunny ascent of Helvellyn followed by less satisfying trips to the Ochil Hills and Trossachs, extending activities into September.
Last year, a longstanding personal matter got attention and progress has felt rather miraculous. That started in August of last year and was got helped by numerous hill walks in Wales in August and September, a trip to Guernsey at the end of August, and a satisfying October encounter with the Ochil Hills from Stirling. While there was a sense of curtailment as the year wore on and other matters intruded, it still is remarkable to note what was happening then in any case.
This year has seen numerous walking trips in various places. Wales, Scotland, France and Ireland all provide the locations. Irish responsibilities continue to be reduced alongside these, and I am looking to progress other work activities as well. Autumn this year is about looking forward more than looking back during a period of letting go of things.
Autumn can feel quiet, yet it is often busy. Places can feel less thronged, giving a sense of new beginning that gets thwarted by the increasing sense of approaching winter. Even so, the working lives of many become more busy, as do places of learning. The latter can be filled with hubris that then is vanquished by academic pressures. This is an odd time of year, looking forward with anticipation, but also looking back with poignancy. Maybe, that is what transition brings. Nevertheless, spring is more to my liking and likely will remain thus.
Centrism
20th February 2022 My perusal of a recent copy of TGO magazine brought me across a few possibilities in an issue having the strapline "Walk the World" on its cover. When it comes to overseas journeying, I tend to take what alpinists might call a centrist approach. What I mean is that I have a habit of basing myself in one location and exploring that and places situated around and about it. The other approach would be to go from place to place on an itinerary.
Certainly, my usual approach makes it much easier to organise a trip and it matters more when I am going further away from home: just book somewhere to stay and sort out how to travel there and back again. After that, it is possible to concentrate on finding one's feet and experiencing any local delights to a deeper level than you would if moving from place to place. It also works well for independent travelling and that is what I did before the pandemic came our way.
There are many trips to Scotland and the Isle of Man where I have taken the centrist approach and it has come in handy for overseas escapades featuring Iceland, Switzerland, Austria, Spain and Canada. One notable exception has been Norway but, even there, I have limited my stopping points and there was a time that I traipsed from place to place around Scotland too.
Thus, the list of possible base "camps" for European excursions in that recent issue of TGO caught my eye. Two places on the lists have seen my footfall already: Innsbruck in Austria and Sóller in Mallorca. The first of these has an embarrassment of riches surrounding it that easily caused quandaries during my extended weekend stay during May 2016. The others need to remain on file for the future. They include Senja in Norway, Gavarnie in the Pyrenees, Sotres in Picos de Europa, Cortina d'Ampezzo in the Dolomites and Bled in Slovenia. All are near to the type of countryside that I relish so they could be worth seeking should opportunities arise.
In a similar vein, Outside also listed the best mountain towns in the U.S.A. and this too struck a chord with me since I have had designs on exploring American mountain country for a while. For example, the prospect of spending time around Denver and Boulder in Colorado during the summer of 2020 foundered because of the pandemic. So, getting a wider list could be helpful and there are twenty-four entries. The source article is behind a paywall but it is worth becoming a paid subscriber to get a list like this.
The possibilities include Cordova in Alaska, Sedona in Arizona, Bentonville in Arkansas, Truckee in California, Durango & Telluride in Colorado, Stanley in Idaho, Copper Harbor in Michigan, Bozeman & Whitefish in Montana, Asheville in North Carolina, North Conway in New Hampshire, Taos in New Mexico, Lake Placid in New York, Bend in Oregan, Spearfish in South Dakota, Chattanooga in Tennessee, Terlingua in Texas, Park City in Utah, Stowe in Vermont, Roanoke in Virginia, Leavenworth in Washington State, Davis in West Virginia and Jackson in Wyoming. Here, I have ordered things by state so you will need to go to the article to get their ordering and the details that they supply for there is a lot to uncover about these. Many already are places that I have checked out but others are not.
It is all very fine to have lists of locations but there are other considerations like accessibility using public transport and the availability and cost of accommodation. Some locations are sure to be well known and hence will be busy places so knowing quieter times like shoulder seasons will prove useful as could using the services of a travel company. Of course, you cannot go anywhere without having the ideas in the first place.
Reeling in some leap years
27th February 2020 There was a series on Irish television called "Reeling in the Years" where each program covered happenings in a certain year in the past using archive footage. The concept may not have been all that original though the focus of Irish events gave it a certain uniqueness. It was the sort of light television programming that could be repeated endlessly should a vacant slot need occupying.
Of course, that is not how I tend to view the entries on here and I often struggle to complete a trip report as I have been doing for a while with a day spent along Derbyshire's Great Ridge in the autumn of 2017. Sometimes, what should produce a timely report can gain the feel of an archive item.
Nevertheless, 2020 is a leap year and a very rainy, snowy and windy February gains an extra day; it is hard to believe that we were basking in unseasonably warm sunshine just over a year ago. Perhaps, it is little wonder then that I often state that we get weather instead of seasons and such is the defining characteristic of a maritime climate.
January and February often are the quieter months of the year so there is some time for looking back and a little forward planning. Thus, I take this opportunity to cast my mind back over leap years from a outdoor wandering vantage point since that stops me at 2000 when I commenced my working life after formal education.
By 2004, my pedestrian hill wandering had come into being with Scotland being a major focus along with England and Wales. The year itself was terrible from a weather standpoint with the summer being a washout. Only some flexibility at work allowed me to snatch a drier interlude to go north to Lorn and Lochaber to make the most of a fleeting opportunity.
2008 then was the third calendar year for this blog and saw a high point in my Scottish rambling. Until very recently, a week in August spent among some of the Western Isles became my most adventurous escapade ever. Skye was a staging point and I managed to avoid much of the rain that came from a stalled front lying across Ireland, England and Scotland. It now seems surreal that there was some glorious weather to be enjoyed on Harris, Berneray, North Uist, Benbecula and South Uist.
The occasional good fortune of those islands again manifested itself in 2012 when they in fact endured a drought while the the rest of Britain has the wettest summer ever. It was only the dryness of the Outer Hebrides that stopped the year going down in records as being wetter than in 2000, a year that I hardly regard as being that rainy at all though there were autumn deluges. The differences in weather were missed in 2012, not only because of a certain weather myopia but also because the heavy workload of 2011 had drained me to the point that energy for planning a return to the Western Isles just was not there.
By 2016, major changes were taking place in my life after the passing of both my parents. These were becoming evident in 2012 and the combination of a busy working life and ongoing inheritance works became enough to break me. One saving grace was that I started exploring elsewhere in Europe and that began in 2015. 2016 saw an extended weekend spent in each of Austria and Norway while there also was a mid-winter break in Mallorca. It was the latter than really taught me a lesson with a heavy cold and the others might have been but palliative care for an ongoing malaise. Changes were coming.
As I look back, it is tempting to think that leap years are not always the best for me though I now reckon that they were not as bad as I might have thought them at the time. 2020 could prove no different but that remains to be seen. Changes are continuing and I now work for myself so overseas and other excursions can continue alongside the other things that need doing. Only time will show what chances are available.
Sharing or sparing?
18th September 2018 Having what is called a bucket list, a list of places that you would like to visit while you can, is common these days but I wonder if such a thing is all that desirable. By the its nature, the problems start when compiling a list of such ideas because chances are that you will select places that already are popular. That applies as much when perusing travel magazines or holiday brochures as it does when using social media.
One consequence of this is that certain locations become too popular for the sake of sustainability and that leads to restrictions that affect the independent traveller. South American destinations like Machu Pichu and Torres del Paine National Park come to mind here but the problem is spread around the world. Scotland's Isle of Skye has experienced problems that never made the news before and you only have to see how many visit well promoted attractions like the Cliffs of Moher to see how many people visit a small number of locations in Ireland at a time during the high season.
This then poses something of a dilemma: do you cater for the visitor numbers or do you restrict them? With wilderness and conservation areas, there is a tendency to do the latter though it does have the consequence of pushing up visitor costs and that may have its benefits for local tourism businesses as you may find on a trip to places in either the Canadian Rockies or Alaska. When you add in short summer tourism seasons, the effect by necessity is more pronounced.
In other destinations, they add in facilities for the extra visitors with some decrying the effect that this has had on Spain's Mediterranean coastline because of hotel and holiday apartment construction. Parts of the Alps are afflicted like this but in a different way: it is the infrastructure of skiing resorts that hardly help appearances in mountain country during the summer season. Both examples make you wonder at the appropriateness of such developments and they must tug at the heartstrings of anyone who adores mountain and coastal scenery.
Another aspect of any overdevelopment is that you can install something that encourages the otherwise unprepared into wild places without realise the possible dangers that are there. For instance, I seem to have inherited my father's unease at cliff edges and my knowledge of how slippery limestone can be almost made me shout at people to keep back from the edge on a damp day hike around the Cliffs of Moher and Doolin. It is little wonder that staff are equipped with whistles to direct the unaware away from peril.
There is overcaution too and one example is the boardwalk on Cuilcagh Mountain and how incongruous it looks in the landscape through which it conveys people to the top of the hill shared between Cavan and Fermanagh, between Éire and Northern Ireland. It also does not help that it stops short of the top too but the boggy morass deters most. Another location where path development attracted adverse comment was at Sliabh Liag in County Donegal but it might be that some sense prevailed there in the end.
Hillwalking is a growing pastime in Ireland so there remains a lot to learn in a country where there is neither experience nor tradition of path and track building in such places. Thankfully, organisations like Mountain Meitheal and Mountaineering Ireland together with initiatives like Helping the Hills are starting to address this so lessons are learned from places like Scotland and applied to get sensible solutions to the growing problem of erosion on popular hills. It is something that needs attention as much as securing access for hill wandering in the first place.
The mention of countryside access brings me to another factor that causes some places to feel overloaded: a lack of alternatives. It is not everywhere that has the liberal access rights that are enjoyed in Scotland and across Scandinavia so there can be a very really reduction in the number of places where you can explore. The options may not stop you going to those better known places like Norway's Preikestolen before finding other quieter hikes nearby as knowledge grows and maps feel more confiding.
It is this last point that inspires the title and the theme runs through Fiona Reynolds' The Fight for Beauty, a book that I read last autumn. It is not for nothing park rangers in Denali National Park tell you not to walk one after another in a group so a path never develops and that everyone's backcountry journey is their own. When there is plenty of land for all, we can spread out and find our own space to recharge weary spirits. That is easier when we are not retracing the steps of others all the while and it can have a lighter impact on the countryside too with less erosion caused by many feet and much path widening. While it can be true that we get confined by or own lack of knowledge, physical restrictions caused by not having enough other places to go hardly help either. Overcoming both might be the ultimate answer to the visitor management conundrum.
