Why I Love old school nav

In this blog our founder, Brooksie—self-confessed map geek and navigation enthusiast—shares why he’s so passionate about the art of old-school navigation with a trusty map and compass.

Spoiler alert: it’s not because he’s anti-tech.

“I’ve been into GPS since the clunky prototypes of the 1990s,” Brooksie explains. “But as the tech got sleeker and easier to use, I realised something surprising: it was actually taking the joy out of exploring—and slowing me down.”

Reason #1: IT’S QUICKER IN THE LONG RUN

Here’s the twist: navigating with a map and compass might seem slower at first, but it’s actually faster in the long term. Why? Because it forces you to engage with your surroundings. You’re not just following a dot—you’re actively learning the landscape, locking it into your memory, and making mental connections between the map and the real world.

Think about it: when you use satnav in a car, you’re mostly on autopilot, waiting for the next “turn left” or “recalculating.” You might enjoy the scenery, but will you actually remember the route? Probably not.

By contrast, navigating yourself sharpens your awareness. Sure, the first time on a tricky route might be slower—especially in poor visibility or featureless terrain—but as you practice, you’ll become more confident and quicker.

And on routes you’ve done before? You’ll fly. With your head up, scanning familiar landmarks, you’ll move faster and more fluidly, without constantly stopping to check your device. Your GPS becomes a safety net, not a crutch.

So, for me, old-school nav isn’t just about nostalgia—it’s about speed, skill, and the pure satisfaction of knowing the way.

Read on for more reasons why I'm hooked on the map-and-compass life!

Reason #2: A Deeper Connection to Nature and the World Around You  

Using a map isn’t just about finding your way—it’s about truly seeing the world around you.

Every time I unfold an OS or Harvey map, it invites me to engage with the landscape in a way that’s impossible to replicate with with tech. It helps me to notice the small, intricate details of the landscape—details I might otherwise breeze past without a second thought.  

This kind of exploration sparks curiosity. The more you observe, the more the world reveals itself to you. Suddenly, you’re not just jogging through a field or climbing a hill; you’re uncovering stories etched into the land by time and nature.  

Take the contours of a map, for example—those sweeping lines that trace the rise and fall of the earth. They tell a story of ancient tectonic shifts, volcanic eruptions, and glaciers carving paths long before dinosaurs roamed. And then there are the apparently “natural” features that are anything but—man-made remnants of how our ancestors lived, worked, and even honored their dead thousands of years ago.  

Maps are like treasure chests of hidden history. When you learn to read them, they unlock a deeper understanding of how the past has shaped both the countryside and our urban spaces. It’s awe-inspiring to think that every hill, valley, and meandering river has a reason for being there, and maps give us the tools to uncover those reasons.  

But it’s not just about history or geography—it’s about connection. Immersing yourself in nature is proven to boost wellbeing, and navigating with a map makes you an active participant in that experience. It turns every outing into an adventure and every landscape into a puzzle waiting to be solved.  

For me, it’s not just navigation—it’s a way to connect with the world, past and present, in the most meaningful way possible.

Reason #3: Predicting the Pace of Adventure

Another thing I love a lot about using a topographical map is how it helps me anticipate my speed—whether I’ll be flying along or crawling at a snail’s pace. It’s not just about plotting a route; it’s about reading the terrain and preparing for every challenge it might throw at me.

A topo map offers a wealth of insight about what lies ahead, whether I’m running, walking, or cycling. Sure, some things are obvious—like whether a section is a paved road or a rough trail—but the real magic comes with practice. Over time, you learn to interpret the contours and clues, predicting steep climbs, tricky descents, underfoot conditions, hidden hazards, and even whether a path on the map is likely to exist on the ground.

Especially when I’m running or mountain biking, this knowledge is invaluable. It’s not just about how far I’ll go—it’s about how long it’ll take and whether the route is within my capabilities. Relying solely on distance and elevation gain (like the stats you find on apps or race guides) can be wildly misleading. On some terrain, my pace can double—or even triple—what I’d normally expect. That kind of variability doesn’t just affect how enjoyable the trip will be; it also determines what I need to bring. Am I packing enough food, water, and gear? Will I need a headtorch if I get caught out after dark?

Sure, smartphones and GPS devices can show topographical details, but for me, they don’t compare. On a tiny screen, I can only see a small slice of the map, which means endless scrolling and zooming just to figure out what’s ahead. With a paper map, I can take in the big picture at a glance, plan my route with more confidence, and immerse myself in the journey.

Old-school nav isn’t just a tool—it’s a skill and a mindset. It turns planning into an adventure of its own, helping me head out much better prepared for whatever comes my way.

Reason #4: It Unlocks a Whole New World of Adventure

“Where are you going?” or “Isn’t the path over there?” are questions I hear a lot when leading runs or hikes in the Peak District.

The reason? I’m very prone to stepping off the beaten path—sometimes quite literally. I love exploring places beyond the well-trodden trails, uncovering hidden gems that most people miss because they’re glued to the green dots and dashes on a map or following a GPX route they downloaded from Strava.

But when we veer off-course, I’ll often hear reactions like:

“Wow, that was incredible!”

“I’d never have thought to come this way!”

“I wouldn’t have had the confidence to try this on my own—I’d get totally lost.”

Here’s the thing: building that confidence to explore where others don’t isn’t as hard as it sounds. All it takes is a modest sense of adventure and a willingness to embrace a bit of old-school navigation.

With a fairly basic understanding of how to read the landscape using map features—and the know-how to navigate safely without relying on paths—you can unlock endless opportunities for adventure. Suddenly, you’re not limited to the well-worn trails. Your options are only as restricted as your imagination.

In places like the Peak District and other national parks, vast areas of open access land are waiting to be explored. These are places where we have the legal right to roam freely, as long as we act responsibly and follow the countryside code.

Even on a busy bank holiday weekend, you can find spots where you’ll hardly see another soul—just mountain hares and the occasional elusive bird species. Personally, I’d much rather be out there, away from the crowds, experiencing something truly unique. That beats sharing Mam Tor or Stanage Edge with hundreds of others any day.

For me, that’s one of real the magics of old-school navigation. It’s not just a skill—it’s a ticket to adventures most people never even dream of.

If you'd like to learn or brush up your own nav skills, why not get yourself on one of our courses.

www.peakrunning.co.uk/hillskills