November 4, 2014 - Written by: Lauren Williams

Of Mountains and Men

I got a text recently from a very good friend of mine ranting about the men in her office, the lasting statement being:

‘I bet mountains aren’t sexist!’

‘No’, I thought. ‘No, they most certainly are not’, as I packed up my backpack for the day, opened my map and made sure I knew the route I was taking my guests on that morning.

The day ahead was going to be a good trek – 900 metres of ascent through old WWI trenches in beautiful sunshine. Bliss.

It went on, the day was glorious, the hike was fantastic, the guests who accompanied me, were not.

Near the end of our ramble we came to a junction, in both the road and some serious opinions.

Me: “OK guys, we’re going this way…”

Guest: “No, it’s that way…”

Me: “Well if you look at the map and see where we are, we need to go this way…”

Guest: “No, it’s this way…”

…and storms off in the wrong direction.

Just as I was about to show the other guests that no, said man was wrong and we needed to go the other way, his WIFE piped up: ‘Oh, well we’ll follow him then. We always follow the man. Men can read maps’.

Um, EXCUSE ME!?

(Image via)

Now, don’t get me wrong, William Blake’s famous, ‘Great things are done when men and mountains meet’ is a quote I hold dear to my heart, but it’s not one to be taken literally.

I’ve found that there are only two types of Mountain Men and Mountain Women to be found hill-stomping – the self-proclaimed mountain goat who rushes to the top without taking in the fabulous alpine air and the breathtaking views or the gentle nature loving, mountain rambler who has been softened by the great outdoors, not hardened or so intimidated by it they need to get to the top first.

My image, taken that day. It’s like my guests were racing clouds!

Needless to say, I was in the company of mountain goats, and I was seething.

**So because I’m a girl, I can’t read a map? Because I’m a girl, I can’t lead a hike up a mountain? Because I’m a girl, then nobody should follow me?**

Blood boiling, not only because I had been told I was not qualified to do my job, but because the other six people in the group agreed with the statement, I followed them down.

At the bottom, mountain goat was sat twiddling his thumbs: ‘We went the wrong way’.

Mmm hmmm, Mr, we didn’t go the wrong way, but you did.

(Image via)

But it wasn’t just the outright attack on my sex that offended me so much, but that for the next five days this couple insisted on coming to me for answers about their questions on hiking trails and climbs in the area. It was almost as though because I was a girl, a young girl in her mid-twenties at that, that I wasn’t worthy of a ‘God, we’re so sorry, we were so out of line’.

Like coming to me for advice was a way of an apology. To prove that I can do my job. As though patronising me with questions was the only way to say sorry for being sexist, arrogant and downright rude. As though saying to me ‘I’m just not sure of my map-reading skills any more after the other day’, would be enough to stop my temper boiling over.