Note:
This is based on something I found in one of my notebooks from some time in 2014. It’s been slightly amended but the point of the original remains intact and remains pertinent.
Is that the best you can do?
My heart sank.
It was not because of the creeping “Strava-isation” of every inch of every trail and mountain biking in general (though there is probably another article to be written on that). Nor was it because I’d only got the Nth fastest time rather than a KoM: that’s a thing that happens. Nor was it because the segment was along an anonymous, straight, bit of fire road in an anonymous plantation. Ok, maybe it was the last one a little bit.
No, the reason my heart sank at the sight of my performance on “Farley Mount Eastern Climb” was because the name was really, really, dull. It was utterly rubbish. Seriously, is that the best you can do?
What’s in a name?
However, the person responsible for this utter lapse in creativity is not alone. No, I’ve ridden the evocative “A272 climb”, the romantic “Grassy Climb”, the truly spectacular “Wooded climb between Plague Pits and M3” and other classics. Perfectly accurate descriptions of the segments in question but complete creative failures.
Why is this important to me?
Maybe it’s my background in rock climbing that makes this rankle. In rock climbing route naming is a big deal. Being the first ascensionist carries the responsibility of naming the route. You get one shot at it, so get it right because that’s what everyone is going to call it. Forever. Although the crags of Britain are littered with “Left hand crack”s and “Dif Chimney”s there are also names to conjure with. Flying Buttress and The Indian Face give me a feel of what the route looks like. A Dream of White Horses gives me an image of waves crashing at the bottom of a sea cliff. Cenotaph Corner not only tells me what it looks like but also evokes a massively powerful image. They are incredible pieces of rock but their name is part and parcel of their mythology now.
The power of a name
There is a romance in a good name. It can encapsulate something of the essence of a trail. It can tell a story about the person who named it. It can be a rotten pun. It can just be a little weird. Whatever it is, a good name becomes the label that the community hangs off a particular path. It becomes part of its identity.
It lasts.
Getting the magic back
It’s not all bad though. For every rotten name, there is a good one. And the good ones stick.
For many years my rides have comprised of “that trail that goes along the fence with the fallen tree halfway along” and “that one that goes right down to the bottom of the woods and then back up again”. Whilst these descriptions are accurate, and I know where I’m talking about, they’re a bit cumbersome and usually end up with a bit of negotiation about where, exactly we’re talking about.
Good Strava names can return some of that magic. They can give us a name for those trails. “The one along the fence” has become “Villains” and “The one that goes to the bottom of the woods” has become “Badger’s corner”. That’s what they’re called now. That’s what everyone I ride with calls them, and everyone else who found them on Strava calls them the same thing.
We’re growing a shared lexicon of places. Those trails are developing their own narrative with those shared names. Everyone knows that “Villains” changed when a tree came down on it and the diversion became part of the trail. It’s got a story attached to it now. It matters nothing that I named it that, many years ago because there was a badger sett at the corner of the woods, it’s coincidence that it makes the shape of a badger. Nor does it matter that I called it “Villains” because of the ruined Roman Villa in the woods nearby. What matters is that we are getting those good names and the stories that go with them.
Sharing the name magic
Now these names are in the public domain and the shared language, I am beginning to see something magic: people taking ownership of those names for themselves.
Someone has created a segment that is only part of Badger’s Corner. They’ve called it “Just the badger’s head”, which I love. It’s creating a section of the original that called the head. It’s giving extra detail to the landscape.
Someone else (I presume) has created a segment that reverse Villains. They’ve called it “Heroes” which is a cracking play on the original.
We are slowly building a network of places with names that mean something.
That cheers me.
