The Real Climate Conference ©

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Lowe Elementary Library

“That’s it!”

“Enough!” bellowed Thunder, hitting the pack-ice with a hammer blow that rippled the seas and sent a fleet of icebergs South.
 
“Let’s get this straight, once and for all. You cannot change your name. You….Are…Called…Drizzle! You have a light, wetting effect on everything and you’re a bleedin’ nuisance. You are not and nor will you ever be a Storm. Now, can we move on with the climate conference instead of this nauseating weather identification nonsense?”
 
“But I don’t feel like Drizzle. I have a huge energy just wanting to break out. I want to be violent and I want a name!”
 
“You want a bleedin’ name?” roared Cyclone. “You’ve got hundreds of names around the World. ‘Cow-quacker’, ‘Smirr’, ‘Fiss’, ‘Blunk’, ‘Plothering’ ‘Neiselregen’, ‘Petricher’, ‘Pioggerell’, ‘Boonda ‘Baandee’ in Hindi, ‘Phwaar Parna’ in Urdu, ‘моросить’ in Russian and across all the Spanish speaking peoples you’re called ‘Llovizna’. In Scotland alone you’re called ‘Mingin’, ‘Manky’, ‘Murky’ and even ‘Mizzle’. The Munroists down there can’t get enough of you. So, stick your soaking wet blanket up your lee side!”
 
“'Up my lee-side'? That’s offensive. I’ll report you.”
“To you it may be offensive but that doesn’t make you correct,” voiced Cyclone.
“Anyway…,” spluttered Drizzle, “I maybe wet but it’s my right to have a name just like each of the storms.”
 
“Just stop right there!” blasted Mistral. “Some weathers have names because we work for our fame. I blow right down the Rhone while you drizzles just linger; you smother moorlands and you’re miserable. Since when did hours of depressing drizzle cause endless flooding and needless destruction?”
 
“No, what I mean is a Proper name for each of us. Each drizzle is nameless. No one knows who we are; so, we should get our own names just like when every storm arrives, she has a unique name”, dribbled on drizzle. “It’s our Right to be recognised with real names and if we can’t have individual names, then we want the right to identify as storms.”
 
“Drizzle has a point,” stuttered Anvil, whose appearance in the skies above Europe was so devastating that whole cities had been flash flooded and shipping restricted to port. “I hate being a storm…I’m the wrong weather.”
 
The Climate conference delegates choked and spluttered in their bewilderment, sending shock waves across every airstream.
 
“Tu quoi?” asked La Bruine.
 
But before drizzling yet more dampness across the conference, the Tartan Trio traipsed in. “Howzit goain’?” called-out Taps Aff, staggering around the delegates holding a can of stomach-churning Hew Dog draped around the ghastly side-kicks, Daggle and Sump.
 
Thankfully, this drunken interruption was overshadowed by Willy Willy who was being chased by Snow Bomb across the conference, which was still listing in the aftershock of Anvil’s clearly desperate plea. Willy’s cyclonic spiralling abruptly stopped as it slammed into the World’s weather board, which was showing delegates where the climate issues were, and looking around, Willy Willy realised it too was being ignored owing to the frightening arrival of the evil, celebrity twins.
 
The delegates cowed in a grim hush with the appearance of El Niño & El Niña. Every weather had firsthand experience of this pair of gangsters: both having dire reputations for endless out-of-season mayhem. But Drizzle, true to form and insensitive to this being the wrong moment, just kept on the persistent nagging.  “Well, can I be re-assigned as a storm?”
 
Maelstrom, who always seemed to appear when catastrophic weathers collided, rose from the Chair and, glaring with fury at Drizzle, let all hell lose on the delegates, sending shock waves across every weather of the World.
 
When the hoolie had settled, so to speak, along with the waves, tides, winds, snows, dust storms, heat and cold streaks, all the weather delegates were hushed. Even El Niño & El Niña bowed into submission hanging on Maelstrom’s resonating & commanding voice.
 
“Drizzle…,” and Maelstrom paused to ensure attention.  
“Listen carefully.”
“You can think about & call yourself what you like but you can never be a storm nor will you ever have a name. Just like Misty Starts, Scattered Showers and Sunny Intervals, you are eponymous. If you have issues about how you’ve been treated, then we can and we will help you; but Drizzle you are and Drizzle you will proudly remain…..have I made myself explicitly clear?”
 
Silence.
 
“Well, Drizzle?” asked Maelstrom with a piercing look that demanded attention. “Your answer…and, please, just dry-up and stop feeling sorry for yourself.” growled, Maelstrom in a tone of growing frustration, sending a wave of anxiety around the World’s weather.
 
“And...” whilst sweeping a threatening look around the conference, Maelstrom took advantage of the attention achieved and went on, “...as for the rest of you, get a grip!”
 
Continuing with a more subtle and calming tone, “Being part of this World’s climate is a wonderful privilege. You are each unique. We provide this wonderful World with its weather; be that sun or snow and we have a far more serious issue amongst us than re-naming ourselves. Chemicals and artificial heat have never been so devastating; causing disruptions & illnesses across all of us. We’ve never seen so much destruction before.” Then, before being able to turn on El Niño & El Niña, Rainbow appeared and landed one of its feet on Maelstrom who looked on in despair.
 
“Oh, no. What now? Don’t tell me you want to be a storm too? …go on, what is it?”
 
As colours drifted over the conference, the awestruck silence was stunning until a wispy but eerily echoing voice grabbed every weather’s attention.
“Don’t mind me; carry-on, Maelstrom. I’m just here to support you. The World’s Colour Phenomena are with you all the way. When we last spoke, Fire Rainbow, Sun Dogs, Nacreous and Iridescent Cloud are furious with these two ghastly impostors. El Niño & El Niña are a total distortion of their ancestors and need putting in their place. So, go ahead and if they are so stupid as to disrespect us anymore, we’ll soon get them sorted and we’ll take all light away from them…permanently!”
 
As Rainbow’s whispers slowly disappeared, Maelstrom turned back to the two Spanish Cholos.

“You two, despicable opportunists better listen carefully. Your behaviour has sent our ancient Trade Winds & Gulf Streams into despair: that’s why they are not here. Only Doldrum has been able to remain steadfast whilst you two bastards, have blown hot and cold whenever you like. So, if there’s nothing else this Climate conference achieves, it’s putting you two back into order. You are on your last legs and to keep you in check, I have asked Chinook and Kona to keep tabs on you.”
 
Then, sweeping away a huge swathe of Cirrus, as Maelstrom turned swiftly and starred at Diablo and The Witch of November who represented the most destructive winds. “You are not innocent either. Your behaviour has been reprehensible by taking advantage of the chaos caused by El Niño & El Niña. You are under ‘last orders’ too.”
 
Turning back to the delegates, “Weathers of the World,” clamoured Maelstrom. “We are under assault. Our established order is being attacked by those humans who seem oblivious to us. Demanding new names is not going to change the rapid decline of our importance…nor is it going to help us work together. Because working together, we must.”
 
“Instead of isolating ourselves and despicably pushing our own self-interests through weatherism, it is our duty to each other to look after all Weathers.”
 
Ripples of discomfort rattled amongst the skies as Maelstrom, lowered it’s noise.
 
“I come from the humble origins of my parents who ran across the Atlantic. High and Low Pressure became so dirtied by Siberian High who sent waves of anticyclones across Europe, that they gave up their traditional behaviours and left me to fend for myself. I was angry. I became a tyrant, wreaking havoc on the humans’ coastal towns as I whipped-up storm after storm but I was soon too knackered to keep going. And now, proudly keeping Maelstrom as my name, I was shown by our one and only source of energy, The Sun, the way humans and us once worked together.”
 
“Weatherism, like that promoted by the Els from hell, is based on fear. They want to create a vicious rivalry amongst weathers: meaning we’ll remain at each other’s throats. The insidious energy of the identity crisis is rampant amongst us because we are in a mess. So, just renaming ourselves won’t make us any better or stronger. We are frightened of the effect those humans are having on us. So, once we accept this shared fear, we can work together to manage ourselves better. We have to escape this fear to allow rational thinking, otherwise darker fears will make our weathers worse.
 
For sure, we are making the snows melt, we’re creating unfavourable heat, we’re destroying everything that makes the World what it should be: but Weatherism and indulgent self-identity are not the answer.”
 
The Climate conference was rapt in attention and for once, rivalries were in check as Maelstrom, appealed to the assembly.
 
“We must be proud of our differences, enjoy being who we are and avoid the temptation to reassign ourselves. We should, need; no, we must work together to promote our survival and then, if we’re stable, maybe, just maybe, those humans will have enough intelligence to make the changes they need for all our survival.”
 
Before launching into the crescendo of a finale, Maelstrom grabbed El Niño & El Niña by their throats and lifted the downhearted Drizzle, and continued with a caring look towards all the delegates,
“Our future is for us to enjoy and gain strength from our differences. Each of you, whatever weather you are, is part of the World’s climate. Our future is together.”
 
And with that, the Weathers looked about at each other before erupting into rapturous joy whilst Drizzle wept the softest tears of contentment; assured of a place in the World’s weather.

(The entire content of this blog, with the exception of the illustration, is copyright to Andy Cloquet and may not be reproduced without permission)
 

Well before Del Boy's Chandelier Escapade!

Monkey Wall, Burbage North

It was only when I was standing beneath the route on Friday evening, just by, that it all came back to me in a flood of dread and a smile.
For a number of years, in the 80's, I used to visit the Grit of The Peak with a dear friend of many, Geordie Skelton. He was a respected long-standing member of Ochils MC and great company and on this occasion we were alone. Geordie's log-book and detailed knowledge of climbs here, as with many UK and Alpine venues, was encyclopaedic; which was especially useful on dubious and very dubious days of off-putting weather as then.
The weather has been playing us around tempting us without much luck. But after two days, we relented and a quick trip to Burbage North was suggested in advance of more incoming rain.
Rock shoes wiped and wiped again, fingers smeared down damp clothing and routes were spiritedly soloed whilst in site of each other; latterly on separate buttresses.
On finishing my route, I topped out to hear booming from the increasing gloom and intensifying drizzle, "Andy! Rope!"
I had one on my back as we thought we might even get a roped climb done, so I called out to Geordie and noting where his call came from, uncoiled and anchored the rope, attached a krab and gently sent it down the crag...
"Wrong route!" or something more expressive echoed among the edges.
You see, I'd only lowered the rope on an adjacent set of climbs and whilst Geordie could see the krab destined for his harness, it was sorely out of reach.
The drizzle was making the sloping gritstone ever more greasy and the seriousness in Geordie's calls was heart stopping.
How he managed to remain on the rock and how I managed to retain my head on my shoulders beggars belief.
With our tails between our legs we slopped back to my car, changed and went to Gridleford cafe to indulge their infamous 'sandwiches' - huge stottie rolls filled with as many items as you could wish for.

(It is highly possible that instead of Monkey Wall, Geordie and I were on '....and Son' & 'Little Plum' respectively)

How I wish I had listened better.....

Whenever I have the opportunity to climb on the cliffs of Beinn Udlaidh, I always think of Geordie Skelton, my late friend and in fact my early mentor when I first arrived in Scotland. Geordie was in the Scottish climbing scene (although I doubt there was such a thing as a 'scene' in the 70's and 80's - you were simply unknown or well kent: Geordie being in the latter category) and one of his very enjoyable venues was the ice crags West of Bridge Of Orchy which he was instrumental in developing.
So, this week, whilst hauling myself up the relentlessly steep forest track to the corrie, I tried to remember some of Geordie's stories of the unfolding history to this winter ring of ice (well, 'ice' has usually not been quite accurate for most recent winters). 

Tam Low, Ian Duckworth, Pete Bilsborough, Frank Jack and many of his contemporaries regularly piled into the corrie from a base in Crianlarich as they were members of the Ochils MC and had members rights over free accommodation in their village-based hut. The key to whether ice was forming on the cliffs was a wee waterfall on the northern flanks of Cruach Ardrain which could be viewed from the hut's door. Water flowing - probably not worth the effort: icefall - they were off!

The problem for me, now, is that many of Geordie's stories were told, re-told and re-re-told amongst the warmth, beer (well, rum and coke for oor Geordie) and banter of The Rod and Reel and The Benmore and, thankfully, no one had to drive (not could they after theses sessions), so the ring of "last orders" was inevitably heard before retreating to the cottage for yet more badinage and the rest.... 

You get the drift: alcohol + alcohol + tiredness = not much chance of remembering and with this equation as a lame excuse for failing to recall much of the detail, and my growing exhaustion on the track, fuelled by not even remembering who 'Junior' was on his step-cutting  jaunt out of Central Gully nor the 'Doctor' or what his dilemma was, I stumbled to the kitting-up stone somewhat out of kilt with myself.

I'm not kidding about the detail of the climbers and their routes, because each route name derived from a story amongst the first ascentionists: and the only one I have the vaguest memory of is that 'Captain Hook' was so named because one of the pitches was climbed with only one axe......but even then, those who listened without drowning in their beer, might still correct me.

Connor heads up the 1st pitch of 65*cruddy ice

As for my climb on this day. Well, a very poor effort from me following a fabulous lead from Connor on the first pitch, combined with our late start and that there were three on the rope, meant that with the incoming mists, swirling spindrift and very cold legs from the standing around, a tail-between-our-legs retreat via an abseil was the better choice to end our day. 

I'm sure Geordie would have laughed at our ineptitude but would have regaled us with a story or two of mis-hap, mis-fortune and first ascents, having bought us the first pints. I must search out Geordie's diaries from one of his closest friends and re-light my memory, without any excuse of being tippled out of my box!

Leaving the abseil set-up for the corrie floor

Finding Our Way Successfully

Well, that's 10 courses completed both day and night with over 60 participants now at least a wee bit more confident in navigating. Instead of relying on others to lead their journey, they can now take an invaluable role in planning and following a route, making adjustments as the day progresses and take a lead if necessary. Great achievements for everyone!

Using every feature to aid their navigation

My least successful day was when we were standing by a reservoir and I saw a large shadow move over my group. Without bothering to check it out, we moved off only to speak with a Game Keeper some few minutes later who asked us, "Did you see that Osprey taking off ?"

Most successful was my day with young learners from Alva Academy who were supported from the excellent staff in the school's Austism Department. Each youngster achieved a Bronze Youth Award from National Navigation Award Scheme and had a damn fine time running around the Gartmoron Woods!

Interestingly, I had two participants who had problems with recently bought compasses 'reversing their polarity' - instead of the red end of their compass needles pointing North, they wavered around either side of South! I think the problem was carrying their compasses beside their mobile phones.

The issue has been noted ever since compasses have been around but since the boom in hillwalkers carrying a myriad of digital devices, the problem has become very noticeable.

The image to the right shows a digital watch positioned with a readout @ 270*, the rid rimmed compass shows the needle @ Mag. North (so the user is facing W, too) whilst the compass on the back of the user's hand is showing the needle pointing virtually South. To mis-use the navigator's mnemonic, 'Red Fred is not in her bed!@....and if you want to know more about what Red Fred is is doing out of her bed, then come along to one of my courses. 

Navigation Courses with Outdoor Adventure Scotland

Life Long Learning through Stories.

Isn't it amazing how life so frequently goes round in circles? None less so than in Outdoor Learning where the use of stories has been quintessentially a core element in being outdoors. 

So, sitting round the Carbeth Fires in the mid years of the 20th Century is just one of the many billions of social and formal settings including our parents' knees where the telling of and listening to stories has been and, for as long as our specie of animal retains the power of speech or any form of person-to-person communication, will always be THE most important form of learning. 

Back to nowadays and it's interesting to have read at least three emails from different groups I have chosen to be a member of, each extolling the beauty and intensity of engaging participants in story-telling. It's a pity that one presenter has hijacked what is common to most experienced practitioners by personalising the intrinsic value of storytelling as if it is a new discovery;

I quote: I have found that where there is truth or emotional impact a story can make 

a positive and lasting difference.  

but I am sure s/he is exceptionally well intentioned and perhaps stating the obvious is not so patronising as it might first seem because modern education is becoming saturated by number crunching or as it is called in Scotland; Tracking and Monitoring.

The burning obsession amongst both our politicians and senior education managers to be able to prove both their value and the success of their policies has lead to a dire and demonic drive for a relentless demand of streams of data-based evidence of the impact from each and every learning experience where creating, imagining and longer-term impact don't fit.

It's no wonder that the outdoor learning industry feels it needs to keep re-stating the obvious. As learning becomes ever more reduced to assessable outcomes, creativity and free-thinking become side-lined in the world of school curricula by those who purport to want the very best for young people.

Our bean-counters, political managers and blinkered education leaders need to be constantly reminded of what anybody involved in the creative subjects knows: stories are the core of human communication and the significance of stories is an irreplaceable facet of human history not to be tampered with nor replaced by digital 'intelligence' and policies which value learning in terms of 'money spent = output achieved. 

Curiosity, Connections and Creativity

As a teacher, I have always held close to my heart the need to be able to inspire curiosity in learners, the importance of learning to be connected and the vital ingredient of promoting creativity. Now, in writing 'creativity' I mean all aspects of the human power of ingenuity; whether it be inventing, making, refining, developing, using, growing, helping or any other 'ing' process which adds to the mental and physical well-being of our species.

It is by using the outdoor environment, I believe we have the best opportunity to  enable most learning through doing. Also, this real life classroom promotes profoundly deep learning which can have extraordinary benefits for everyone: and what's more, it's vital we make a concerted, unequivocal and genuine effort to change the way we teach because, as animals, we have developed the most sophisticated and ghastly means to harm and destroy each other, accumulate huge coffers of cash by exploiting others, deny others and sometimes ourselves of compassion and, worst of all, let our selfishness drive our productive energies regardless of the unidentifiable and unjustifiable damage we do to each other and at each others' expense. The current Western models of compulsory education have been exhausted and we need a radical re-think.

The article I have chosen to highlight here is one of a number of increasingly numerous pleas in newspapers, blogs, documentaries by academics, education professionals and well kent personalities who are trying desperately to engage both policy makers and the wider population in thinking about what we really value, what we truly believe is the purpose of education and how our blinkered approach to teaching and learning is only compounding the problems we, as a Nation and as a individuals, are creating for ourselves. 

With the greatest of respect to Ben Fogle, his article is reproduced here with additional bracketed comments by me. 

“Instead of pumping time and money into exams (which only really provide data that teaching of some sort or another has occurred), we should focus on wellbeing and encouraging children to connect with the natural world”  Ben Fogle

Government plans to introduce national tests for seven-year-olds shows just how far our exam obsession has come. Our kids now face constant assessment as politicians attempt to measure the success of schools. Children have become tiny cogs in a box-ticking government machine. Education has lost its way.

This matters to me a great deal, especially since becoming a father to Ludo, five, and Iona, four. I don’t want my children to feel the same sense of failure I did growing up because they’re not good at passing tests. Let’s be honest, some people are better suited to exams than others in the same way that some of us are more sportier or arty.

There are a few of us whose minds turn to putty under pressure. Exams left me feeling worthless and lacking in confidence. The worse I did in each test, the more pressure I felt to deliver results that never came. When I failed half my A-levels, and was rejected by my university choices, I spiralled into a depression.

The wilderness rescued me. I have been shaped by my experiences in the great outdoors. Feeling comfortable in the wild gave me the confidence to be who I am, not who others want me to be. There is a natural simplicity to nature; it is far more tactile and tangible than the classroom. 

It’s time to turn classrooms inside out

Instead of pumping time and money into exams, we should focus on (mental and physical) wellbeing (compassion, self-awareness and understanding of each other) and encouraging our children to connect with the natural world. I’m not suggesting the abolition of the exam system, but we could certainly cut back to allow more time for children to explore the world around them.

It doesn’t need a huge investment either. Even if you don’t have immediate access, wilderness camps and schools are waiting to receive inner-city children. Part of the beauty of wilderness schooling is that the overheads are very low. You want a classroom? Build a shelter from nature’s store. You want to eat? Forage for it.

And evidence shows connecting with nature really works. Free play in the outdoors is good for social and emotional development, improves self-awareness, and makes children more co-operative. A study by the American Medical Association in 2005 concluded that: “Children will be smarter, better able to get along with others, healthier and happier when they have regular opportunities for free and unstructured play in the out-of-doors.” 

There is also scientific evidence that the wilderness can reduce hyperactivity and has a soothing effect on children, especially those suffering from attention deficit disorder.

We’ve got it all wrong. We need to bring positivity, health and wellbeing back into our schools. It’s time to turn everything on its head and classrooms inside out.

There are many examples to learn from. (The most often quoted example is) German visionary Kurt Hahn; who was one of the early pioneers of outdoor education. He founded Schule Schloss Salem in Germany and the United World Colleges movement that includes Atlantic college in Wales and Gordonston in Scotland. His educational vision encompassed craftsmanship, community service, outdoor pursuits and physical skills.

The Scandinavians have also led the way in this field for many years, not only ensuring class time in the wilderness, but also replacing teaching by subjects with topics. 

Wilderness schooling involves a similar approach of non-conformist team work, with kids expected to work together in nature. No longer do they sit in rows while their teachers lecture, lessons are now collaborative. The system is geared towards improving communication, confidence, character and resilience rather than pushing kids through what have essentially become exam & attainment factories (where most of the so called knowledge is rarely if ever called on again).

Our once progressive and world-class education system now seems to have ground to a halt. Why are we still using teaching systems that rely on cramming information to be regurgitated in exams? (and why are we failing to recognise that simply following what has been before - Grammar schools, National testing in Scotland, curricula which rely on the university-based system of discrete subject specific timetabling and repeated attacks on the teaching profession including the grossly critical demand for ‘continuous improvement’, whatever that is.)

I want an education system that works inside out. The outdoors becomes a weekly topic – encompassing geography, environment, resourcefulness, home economics, science, and maths – undertaken outside. Classes could be in an inner-city park, scrub land or garden.

As my own children step on to the conveyor belt, I am determined to give them a rounded education. I am in a fortunate position to share some of the wonders of the wilderness with my own kids. But we all have a responsibility to ensure every child has access to the same life-enhancing opportunities. The government should think long and hard before launching another budget-sapping exam and think about investing in the health and well being of future generations.

We’ve got it all wrong. We need to bring positivity, health and well being back into our schools. It’s time to turn everything on its head and classrooms inside out.

There are many examples to learn from. (The most often quoted example is) German visionary Kurt Hahn; who was one of the early pioneers of outdoor education. He founded Schule Schloss Salem in Germany and the United World Colleges movement that includes Atlantic college in Wales and Gordonston in Scotland. His educational vision encompassed craftsmanship, community service, outdoor pursuits and physical skills.

The Scandinavians have also led the way in this field for many years, not only ensuring class time in the wilderness, but also at virtually all levels of school education, replacing teaching by subjects with topics. 

Wilderness schooling involves a similar approach of non-conformist team work, with kids expected to work together in nature. No longer do they sit in rows while their teachers lecture, lessons are now collaborative. The system is geared towards improving communication, confidence, character and resilience rather than pushing kids through what have essentially become exam factories.

Our once progressive and world-class education system now seems to have ground to a halt. Why are we still using teaching systems that rely on cramming information to be regurgitated in exams? (and why are we failing to recognise that simply following what has been before - Grammar schools, National testing in Scotland, curricula which rely on the university-based system of discrete subject specific timetabling and repeated attacks on the teaching profession including the grossly critical demand for ‘continuous improvement’, whatever that is.)

I want an education system that works inside out. The outdoors becomes a weekly topic – encompassing geography, environment, resourcefulness, home economics, science, and maths – undertaken outside. Classes could be in an inner-city park, scrub land or garden.

As my own children step on to the conveyor belt, I am determined to give them a rounded education. I am in a fortunate position to share some of the wonders of the wilderness with my own kids. But we all have a responsibility to ensure every child has access to the same life-enhancing opportunities. The government should think long and hard before launching another budget-sapping exam and think about investing in the health and well being of future generations. (Ben Fogle)

Hike 'n Tour

One of my wonderful client groups last year helped me put a wee product together. Having had two stiff days on the Torridon hills, our third day was a cultural, historical and foodie tour of Applecross. 

So, that's the idea to try this year. 

 ...you'll probably spot that the ruin is not in Torridon!
Outdoor Adventure Scotland