RDF/RSS Feed
Atom Feed
Drawing fantasy maps always brings up the question of how far is it really from here to there…from, say, Halveric Steading to Chaya, or Fiveway to Valdaire? Eager readers may try to figure out the scale of a fantasy map and thus determine what the real travel distances and times “should” be.
For some of you, what I’m going to talk about is familiar–you yourselves have done long hikes, ridden long distances, and so you know what goes into “a day’s travel.” But for those who haven’t, here’s why the map is only a rough guide.
Forty years ago, when I was young and fit, I would drive out of the city on an afternoon when I got off work, or leave early the next morning, and drive a couple of hours to the mountains. The Appalachian Trail was that close, and I explored the parts I could reach, and connecting side trails, weekend by weekend, with the aid of topo maps. Later, I hiked around in other areas as well. Weather didn’t matter much–rain, dry, hot, cold–if the park road was closed (for snow, for instance) I’d hike up from a road that was open. It was great experience for someone who would later write books in which people are walking around on natural land in real weather. I had come from almost-flat land, where slope had little or no effect on how far you could go (heat did!) and the surface was either dirt or pavement–yes, it was harder to walk across a plowed and harrowed field than on pavement, but not that much harder. Now, in the foothills and mountains, I learned about terrain.
History backed up what my legs and back told me. Five miles on flat firm ground is not the same as five miles of deep, loose sand, or five miles of uphill at varying slope angles, or five miles of mucky bottomland forest. In dry weather, on a ridgetop trail, I could cover a lot more ground in the same time as I could in wet weather, or climbing up from the bottom. One morning when I woke up to thick fog, it took me almost an hour to cover a half mile…I wasn’t familiar with the side trail I’d taken to my camp, and there were side trails off the side trail. The day before, walking in, it was a 10-15 minute trip. (Yes, I hiked and camped alone a lot. I had Colin Fletcher’s book.)
Topo maps, if you use them a lot, become a reasonable guide to how long this five miles will take compared to that five miles–if weather doesn’t intervene and the map is accurate and in a scale that shows every wrinkle. However, even topo maps can fool you: we were used to 20-foot contours on our eastern maps, and when we ordered maps for a long trip in Utah, it had 50 foot contours. We told ourselves that the same contour line spacing meant a steeper slope, but it was the sight of a “little knob” we’d planned to climb for a view–said little knob being 2 1/2 times as tall and near vertical-sided–that taught us what we’d gotten into. (Wonderful trip–just bigger country. But offering an educational range of footing…)
So consider travelers on foot or a live mount–horse, donkey, mule, camel, whatever–in natural country with hand-built roads (if any.) The factors that govern how fast they go include terrain (the exact shape of the land), surface conditions (what they walk on–hard, firm, soft, sand, dirt, rock, mud, unstable–such as a talus slope), weather (temperature, wind and its direction, precipitation in kind and amount), vegetation (interacts with surface and weather to produce easier or harder travel), their personal characteristics (age, health, size, weight, degree of fitness–and that of their mount, if they have one), their load (what they’re carrying in addition to themselves), their supplies (because that affects condition.)
Travel with animals, often used in movies and books to speed up the pace, isn’t that simple either. Animals need to be fed, watered, and cared for; horses and mules eat and drink more than people, and on a different schedule. Horses overheat more easily; both have hoof issues (cuts, punctures, bruises, loose and lost shoes) and skin issues (saddle and pack galls) that must be prevented or cared for. They’re affected by footing, slope, weather, etc….and by the skill of their riders or packers. Humans can use trails horses and mules can’t–those small hooves in relation to their weight means more weight/unit area, and thus the animals bog down in mud that humans can slog through.
The accidents of travel–the sprained ankle on the human, the lameness of a mount, the pack that rolls downhill and spills half the journey’s food over the slope–also come into play. Pre-mechanized travelers could not retreat to their vehicle and drive to the nearest store to replenish supplies…if they were three or four walking days (or weeks) from a supply base, they made it on what they had–or else. (You learn caution, hiking alone: yeah, sure, you could *probably* slide down that steep slope, but what will you do if there’s a rock under those leaves that flips you around so you land wrong on the rocks by the stream? Bad place to break an ankle or bang your head. Maybe better take the long way around…)
There are historical records of the average travel times for known, here-on-earth locations. Military history gives the average distance covered in specific areas within a day, and the marching time between certain cities in specific conditions. These make it clear that all the above factors affect speed and thus travel time and thus the *effective* distance, whatever the measured distance may be. Maps drawn before the development of “scientific” cartography reflect more about the realities of travel than the actual distance. Features are enlarged when important to the traveler, and minimized when not
Researching for the first Paks books, I used many sources for travel distances and speeds, from military memoirs (Sherman was particularly useful) to the Sierra Club handbook on hiking and the use of pack animals. But most useful were the hours spent on the trail with a pack on my back or in the saddle, in all seasons and all weathers, in various places from Virginia to western Canada. The books gave me numbers and instruction; a few gave me more vivid images. The real thing gave me personal all-sensory experience. I needed (and used) both.
The maps, C.J. Cherryh said, should come last. They’re a handy reference. But the story rules.
Comment by tuppence — May 26, 2009 @ 6:16 pm
I am really enjoying these essays on injecting reality into fantasy. May I hope that someday yu will amalgamate them into one publication?
Comment by elizabeth — May 26, 2009 @ 7:09 pm
When the current spate of work lets up (hollow laugh of disbelief inserted here) I hope to gather all my writing-related posts here and elsewhere into one section of my elizabethmoon.com website.
Comment by shadowsryder — May 28, 2009 @ 12:49 pm
Love Paks, her world, her friends.
Re crosscountry travel: in 1980’s I competed in competative trail rides in the Appalachian area. The most challenging rides included ‘Fort Valley’, west of Front Royal, along the South Fork of the Shenandoah; and ‘Maggie Valley’, in the Smokies, the Cataloochee area. These were NARTC Region V rides.
The North American Trail Ride Conference (NATRC) is one of a number of competitive trail ride organizations in the United States. A competitive trail ride is not a race, but competitors cover a marked course in a given period of time. The pace for Open Division is about 4 – 6 mph, on a 25 – 35 mile trail for a one-day ride or 50 – 60 miles on a two-day ride or 80 – 90 miles on a three-day ride. The pace for the Novice and Competitive Pleasure (CP) divisions is about 3.5 – 5 mph, on a 20 – 25 mile trail for a one-day ride or 30 – 40 miles on a two-day ride. Three-day rides are not permitted for the Novice and CP divisions. The horse is judged on condition, soundness and trail ability on natural trail obstacles. The rider is judged on presentation (not showmanship!), grooming (no artificial enhancements, polished hooves, etc.), trail equitation (not prettiness of form), trail safety/courtesy, stabling, etc.
The philosophies of NATRC
1. To stimulate greater interest in the breeding and use of good horses possessed of stamina and hardiness, and qualified to make good mounts for trail use,
2. To demonstrate the value of type and soundness in the proper selection of horses for competitive riding,
3. To learn and demonstrate the proper methods of training and conditioning horses for competitive trail riding,
4. To encourage good horsemanship as related to trail riding,
5. To demonstrate the best methods of caring for horses during and after long rides without the aid of artificial methods or stimulants.
NOTE Point 5. Also pace ‘n distance standards
These are derived from military practice.
Comment by elizabeth — May 28, 2009 @ 1:58 pm
I read many an article about the NATRC when I was younger and taking several horse magazines. Such organizations are necessary, I’m convinced, in a mostly mechanized society, if people are to use recreational horses safely. We aren’t *born* knowing how to care for horses, or how to ride in groups on trails without causing a disaster, and many of us did not grow up in a horse-owning (let alone expert horse-owning) family.
I know the area you’re speaking of. I hiked in that area–Shenandoah National Park from Front Royal south to the next ‘real’ highway crossing (can’t remember what that one is), then down in the valley and over in that part of West Virginia, the nearest state park. I’ve been in Smokey Mtns National Park, but only by car–and it poured buckets and bathtubs and swimming pools for two days.
Comment by Layla — May 28, 2009 @ 7:23 pm
all these “explaining the details” essays are great! I didn’t know how hard the writing process realistically is.
Comment by elizabeth — May 28, 2009 @ 10:47 pm
A lot of it becomes second nature if you write enough words and get enough feedback…but some of it is still, yes, just plain old work.
Comment by Dave Ring — May 29, 2009 @ 11:50 am
I just finished rereading the Paks books and have two questions. In Oath of Gold, when Paks first visits Chaya and goes to find the tavern the elves frequent, they ask if she is of the House of the Leaf or of the Fountain. What are these Houses? Are they the only ones, or just the likely lineages for elves in Lyonla?
The other question concerns runes. From several mentions they seem to be ideographic symbols more like Chinese characters than an alphabet or syllabary. Is that right? Is there one writing system used by all races in Paks’ world or many?
Comment by elizabeth — May 29, 2009 @ 12:53 pm
The Houses may be explained later, but at this point what I know would be Spoilerish. House is lineage, pretty much. Not entirely, as House adoption occurs.
There are several writing systems; most who are literate at all are literate in only one. Runes are not ideographs, although some runes have become almost that when used alone.
Comment by Dave Ring — May 29, 2009 @ 4:31 pm
Interesting. Your answer about the Houses begs another question. How close are the new Paks novels to what you had in mind after (or even before) Liar’s Oath? Is it a case of the story just waiting until you had the time it needed, or did the story resist being written because it was really quite a different story?
Comment by elizabeth — May 29, 2009 @ 6:53 pm
Those aren’t the only alternatives…I’m not sure I can (or should) explain, since it’s all involved with how my particular writer-mind works, and with Lifestuff.
Short answers (necessarily, because in the last hour I’ve had some visual aura precursor to a migraine that hasn’t hit yet but probably will within the next hour, at which point I’m going into the darkened room…)
1) No book I’ve ever written has stayed the way I thought it would be when I started it. Not Paks. Not any of them. Thus the new Paks books aren’t what I thought they would be, but they’re not any farther off my pre-writing guess than the others.
2) This would have been true if I’d written them straight on after the other Paks-world books.
3) My conception of the next part of the Paks-world books, in 1990-91, was that I needed to be at least 50 before starting them, because I knew Kieri Phelan would be a major POV character. Unfortunately, and due to many other things (not the books, which increasingly wanted to be written) I overshot that by over a decade. It won’t hurt the books, though.
4) Nonetheless, since everything that a writer experiences should, and does, affect a story, the story is affected by another 14 years of experience beyond what I’d originally thought necessary. That experience includes writing 12 books and traveling abroad for the first time in my life, fourteen more years’ experience with an autistic person in the household (already had eleven), major changes in my husband’s life, major changes in the world itself, etc, etc, etc. These books will be farther from what I thought they would be as a result of those extra 14 years and all that went into them.
So the story didn’t “just wait” for me to write it, nor did it “resist being written.”
Comment by Dave Ring — May 30, 2009 @ 10:25 am
Sorry if I clumsily presented a false dichotomy. Even more sorry to contribute to a migraine! And grateful, as always, for the insights you generously give us into the stories and their writing.
Comment by elizabeth — May 30, 2009 @ 2:37 pm
Dave, the migraine is not your fault–neither its existence nor its duration. Once one of those things starts, it has its own momentum and unless you’re pounding on something metallic next to me or shining bright lights in my eyes, you’re not making it worse.
However, when one has hold of my head, I’m more likely to sound more annoyed than I really am.
Comment by FrancisT — June 11, 2009 @ 2:10 pm
Gosh what an excellent post and comments. Sometimes its good to read back just in case you missed a post and I missed this one…
And I’ve got two things to comment on too.
First in regard the travel thing – on saturday the wife & I will be competing in the Man Vs Horse race in Llanwrtyd Wells. This is a 22 mile race with a total of some 3000 foot positive elevation change (and the same down again more or less). If it was flat I figure I’d do it in about 2 hours, but with the 3000′ of climb I figure to add at least an hour.
This is a fascinating race because the fastest runners (male) and fastest riders tend to take about the same time – riders start later so they aren’t directly competing – but usually the riders are slightly faster. Indeed the whole race started as a bet in a pub between a good runner and a good rider about who would be faster of this kind of mixed terrain. The runners have won two or three times over the last 25 years or so. I would expect that if I do it in 3 hours I’ll beat quite a lot of horses although I know I’ll lose against the fastest, since the winners tend to complete the course in about 2 hours.
Moving on. The runes as Chinese characters thing actually works rather well. The ones on Paks’/Kieri’s sword for example very nearly worked perfectly in Japanese Kanji so IIRC did some others which I cannot now recall.
Comment by elizabeth — June 11, 2009 @ 4:45 pm
That sounds like a fascinating race! Back down the years a ways (that’s the best I can do) I read the results of some research on horse v. human speed over distance. There are extremely short distances at which a human is faster than a horse (and can thus get to the gate before the horse does) because the horse can’t accelerate quite as fast (whoever did that research never saw my little bay mare in action….I have doubts) but at longer distances the equivalently fit human will win because humans can run longer at one time–they don’t overheat as much. In the middle distances, humans haven’t a chance–the horse can do a mile faster than any human on foot, on terrain where a horse can gallop. It would be interesting (!) to put people who are good at running distance on natural terrain against horse & rider in the longer endurance trials.
Also interesting about the runes on Paks’s sword functioning as Japanese Kanji. Hmmm….
Comment by FrancisT — June 15, 2009 @ 12:23 pm
FWIW here’s my write up of ths year’s man vs horse race with lots of thoughts regarding travel in the time before the automobile or the train
http://masgramondou.livejournal.com/4901.html
Comment by elizabeth — June 16, 2009 @ 12:07 am
Very interesting…I particularly like the pictures of the terrain, of course…
There are good research sources for speed/distance/terrain in various historical periods, you just have to hunt them down and know how to use them. When I was first doing the Paks books, I looked for sources that were in English (or had been translated into English) and used familiar measurements…simply because when I’ve been hiking or riding, those are the ones I used, so I had a “body feel” for them. Sherman’s memoirs, for instance, gave me realistic distances for military units of given sizes over terrain and in weather and road conditions that he described (and I could look up the topo maps for, when needed.) There are multiple sources for cavalry and other horse-related transport in various conditions, USA and UK being the easiest for me to read–and the UK ones, from the Empire days, giving really useful information about all kinds of terrain and climate. Military history sources also cover Continental wars, of course, and there again good maps are available to check distances.
Among the non-military sources, and esp. useful for the solitary or small-party traveler, I found the Sierra Club Handbook (old copy, sometime in the ’70s I think) helpful (esp. as related to pack loads) and also a book on horse-packing by a professional packer. (I also had books, and later videos, on the use of harness horses and draft horses, besides having met and talked to an experienced teamster sand done a very small bit of driving–single lightleg to a sulky-cart.) Luckily for the writer, printing preceded rail and automobile travel, so you can find all sorts of helpful material in diaries (someone’s notations of the trip they took from Boston to NYC in the 18th c.), in more formal memoirs, in collections of letters, as well as in works of nonfiction (and in some cases fiction–if written contemporaneously with the events being described. Modern writers don’t get cars or airplanes wrong (well…not the essentials); writers of the period didn’t get carts, carriages, and riding horses wrong.) Contemporary writers are especially good on the details: how a trip felt, what the smells and sights and sounds were that they noticed (as opposed to what we would notice in that situation.)