Dis-Orienteer

I once came within 30 seconds of making an SOS phone call to the office after my navigation-by-Pizza Hut tactics collapsed one lunch time, not realising there was more than one.

But when the challenge came in to have a go at the York City Park Trophy course on Bank Holiday Monday I couldn't refuse.

The York City trophy was born out of the Foot and Mouth crisis of 2001 when restrictions on farm and woodland wiped out hundreds of orienteering fixtures across the UK. The Eborienteers - the orienteering club for York and the surrounding area - came up with the idea of bringing the race into the city centre.

The challenge of navigating through York's tight snickleways and cobbled streets proved such a hit with orienteers it was made into an annual event and this year's race saw more than 100 runners tackling one of four courses ranging from 4.9 kilometres to the junior 2.2 kilometre course and a 1 km route for absolute beginners wanting to have a go.

And that's where I came in.

Event planner Steve Whitehead handed me a map and asked "are you any good at reading maps?"

I hesitated. A series of directional faux pas flashed through my mind on the way to football matches, looking for a pub in what I considered a home town...

But I was feeling bold. "Er, yes," I eventually answered.

My hesitancy soon justified itself. Great Britain orienteer and original York girl Jenny Whitehead accompanied me to the first two controls to help me get used to the electronic micro-chip strapped to my finger used for checking in at each control.

But then it all went horribly wrong. For some reason, I had got it into my head that the small white square with a 'T' marked in it was the Minster.

Why, I think I will never know. Especially as there was a huge grey cross-shape next to it. So, I ran off towards the back of the Minster, eyes peeled for the next red and white plastic square.

But I couldn't find it. I was about to retrace my steps when I saw what looked like another lost orienteer. This convinced me I was in the right place and I spent a further five minutes searching until I saw the 'lost' man with a camera lining up for a shot of the Minster.

For a split second, I marvelled at his spirited attitude before it dawned on me that he was actually a tourist.

I looked back at the map and mentally traced my steps from control two and soon realised I had gone straight on, instead of left.

What should have taken about 45 seconds and 250m, I managed to go more than 700m (I went off the map I was that disorientated) and take 10 minutes and 24 seconds.

Back on track, I made a conscious effort to follow the map and ignore my I've-lived-here-for-five-months instincts, and it paid off. And I felt a great sense of satisfaction when I chose a better route than one of the proper orienteers.

The attraction of the sport soon became very clear. Tackling mental as well as physical obstacles was a refreshing change to the often mindless repetition of track or road-running.

You can also go at your own pace, with colour-graded routes at many events ranging from very short and basic to much longer and trickier options for the more advanced.

And the friendliness of other athletes smiling and saying hello on the course was also liberating, having grown up in the cut-throat atmosphere of teenaged middle-distance running.

Most of all, it was great fun - and a great workout. Admittedly the 3,400m version I did was a bit further than the 2,800m probably taken by most - but you get the idea.

Log on to www.eborienteers.org.uk to find out more.

Updated: 10:22 Saturday, June 05, 2004