Adventures with cloaks

[ladyofastolat]

Well, the Wight has been Walked. Pellinor did the full 27 miles (not 28 as I said yesterday), though he was an idiot to do so, since he could barely put his feet on the ground at the 18 mile checkpoint. I did the 8 miles I'd planned to do, and can also barely walk, due to hip pain. It rained horribly for the first 16 miles or so, then got sunny and nice, but is raining again now.

Next year, I think I'm going to run away and Walk the Fens, or something. The island has far too many Downs. (For the benefit of stray Americans, Downs mean ups. It's rather like the way that Public schools are private.) The trouble is, all the Downs have downs in between them, so we're up and down like yo-yos. At one point, we were teetering down a very muddy path, and it struck me that it just needed one person at the top to slip, and 200 people would go down like dominos. I'm not sure whether I was disappointed or relieved that this didn't happen.

We did do the walk in Mummers' costume, after all. For me, this meant a cloak. This has given me a unique insight into the lack of realism endemic in fantasy novels today. Here is my shocking expose.



Fantasy novels do not properly address the issue of mud. If you are a hero trudging through wind and weather, with the fate of the world resting on your every footstep, you will inevitably go through foul weather and fouler ground, put there by your foul enemy. In other words, you will get muddy. As you can see, scabbards are not exempt. (Unless elven-made scabbards have some sort of in-built mud repellent.)



However, how often do you read something like this:

"As the enemy approached, Aragorn drew his sword. But, behold!, the movement dislodged the mud that caked his scabbard, and a fleck of mud went into his eye, which did blind him and cause the enemy to prevail."

You will also observe that walking through a landscape with an interesting geological composition results in overlaid layers of differently coloured mud.



Fantasyland always has interesting geology (all those volcanoes and fiery rifts and the like. yet often do you read this:

"You say that you are Mr Underhill, but I can see from your boots that you started in a place with red mud, walked through grey mud, then white, before getting the black peat of our own fields on your shoes. From this, I deduce that you, Mr Underhill, are actually Mr Baggins, for only between Hobbiton and here can one encounter mud like that."

But we now move on to the worst enemy that a hero can face in Fantasyland. Do I mean the three-headed dogs of doom? Nay! Do I mean the foul armies of ugly-faced minions, whose hearts know no pity? Nay! Do I mean the dread Dark Lord himself - he who cannot be named? Nay! I mean - *tremble. hushed voice*... I mean... the hero's own cloak!

Imagine a cloak with a hood, beloved by Black Riders and the like. What the books don't say is that the hood flies off one's face in the slightest breeze. It then sits there behind your neck, secretly gathering rain is a helpful water-butt sort of fashion. Some while later, the intrepid hero/foul dark minion reaches some sheltered spot and tries the hood again. The result is a large dose of cold water straight down the neck. Clearly Black Riders have some sort of magic imbued in their hood. Either that, or they have Velcro on the top of their head. Maybe Sauron almost won because he discovered Velcro first.

When the hoods do stay up (as happens with proper waterproofs, not cloaks), you then have the problem that you are one of 6000 people, who all, from the back, look identical:

"Is that you, Eater of Babies?"

"No, I'm Cruncher of Hamsters. Eater of Babies's over there. The one with the hood."

The cloak does actually do a wonderful job of keeping the rain off. However, by doing so, it becomes as heavy as four elephants. As soon as you reach a windy hill-top, it becomes possessed, leaping around like a mad thing. By rights, we should encounter the following scenarios in fantasy fiction:

"What is it, Sam?" Frodo asked, horrified, as Sam collapsed to the ground, gasping in agony.

"It was your cloak, Master Frodo, sir," Sam gasped. "It hit me in the eye. I... I'm done for, Master Frodo."

Alternatively: "I'm sorry, Sam. I can't go on." Frodo pointed to his ankles, whipped by his cloak until they were as red as raw steak.

We also have the hitherto-unexplored wind resistence effect of a cloak worn on a windy hilltop:

"I'm sorry, Sam. I can't go on. Let me die here."

Sam hurried to Frodo's side. "Is it the Eye, Master Frodo? Is the Ring so very heavy?"

"No," Frodo gasped, almost too spent to speak. "The chill wind from yon mountain is catching in my cloak, making every step feel like ten."

Add to this the strangling effect as ten tonnes of water-sodden cloak is billowed backwards by 50 miles an hour of wind, all of which is pulling one one brooch at your throat...

All in all, I think cloaks were invented by the Dark Lord as part of a secret plan to defeat his enemies. As long as heroes in fantasy novels persist in wearing pseudo-medieval clothing, they will never defeat Evil. As one, they need to cast away their cloaks, and Goodness will prevail.
__

And, finally, a few more pictures, some of the "why on earth are we doing this?" variety, and one of the "aint it pretty?" type.





(Flash went off accidentally. I opted not to take a second picture without the flash, since I was afraid of falling down and setting off the domino reaction.)





EDIT: I should just add that it fills me with a warm, fuzzy glow that so many people on my Friends list are able to share cloak-wearing tales, rather than going, "What? A cloak? Are you some sort of weirdo?" (Feeling really quite unwell now. I think it's the after-effects of getting out of breath while still having the tail-end of a chesty cold. I'm now going to curl up somewhere and whimper.)

Comments

[gramarye1971]

I never used to believe the parts in Sherlock Holmes where Holmes could identify all the different kinds of mud and soil at a glance and trace it back to the person's location, until I actually went on a walk where the mud on my shoes was of different colours and textures. *grins*

And you speak so much truth about cloaks. I may have to incorporate this knowledge into my next bout of writing. ^_^

[yellowrocket.livejournal.com]

Glad the sun shone on you for at least part of the time :-)

I have the answer to some of the cloak trauma, being something of a regular wearer...

Two hand size slits in the seams, about where your overcoat pockets would be, allow you to reach through the cloak on windy hilltops, therefore anchoring the cloak at your wrists and limiting the billowing. It also means that on cold days you can carry bags and stuff without letting the Draught of Doom in at the front or looking like a hovercraft! :-)

If the hood flies off and collects skywater, it's probably too big...

As far as length goes, mid-calf is about right and reasonably mudproof :-)

[sigisgrim.livejournal.com]

Having worn cloks on several occassions to keep warm and dry I have never had the experiences you describe. I will admit that my cloak is a wool / polyester mix, but amalion's is pure wool and hers is even better than mine is at keeping the wearer warm and dry. I also have never had the hood blow off my head; it stays up when I want it up and down when I want it down. Nor does it collect unwanted water.

The only problem I have with a cloak is trying to drive when wearing one!

[rustica.livejournal.com]

Someone should tell the tourist board that someone has nicked part of that hill in your last pic :)

Well done on surviving the walk (and the weather)! I shall spare Pellinor a thought tomorrow - I guess he's going to be in quite a lot more pain tomorrow than he is today. :(

And yes, cloaks are evil. But not so evil as scabbards. Have you ever tried to fight while wearing one? No, I haven't either, because I can barely cross a room wearing the damn thing without falling over it six times. And as for walking down stairs with one - just forget it and hurl yourself from the top step. It's simpler, probably hurts less and ends up with the same conclusion.

Cloaks and their dangers!

[the-marquis.livejournal.com]

When reading about the disaters inherent in cloaks there is also the danger of falling of one's chair laughing, or developing an asthma attack.

[lil-shepherd.livejournal.com]

I am reminded of a certain Captain America comic book of yore. Cap had become deeply disillusioned with the US Government (read Nixon) and decided to abandon his patriotic identify and call himself Nomad, Man Without a Country. As he sat there with his needle and sewing machine,making himself a new costume, as you do, he thought to himself, "I'll have a cape. I've always felt capes were cool." So he indeed made himself a snazzy cape, like a cloak only a tad shorter, and without the arm holes that, as far as I am concerned, distinguish a cape from a cloak.... but I digress. Anyhow, off he set, after the bad guys. And forthwith tripped over the cape... to the accompaniment of a super villain remarking, "I just knew one of those super-clowns was going to do that one of these days."

He abandoned the cape forthwith.

Just to let you know about the good company you keep, and that some writers actually do think about such things...

[rowana.livejournal.com]

I wandered in here from sounis and just wanted to comment on how hard this:

"Is that you, Eater of Babies?"

"No, I'm Cruncher of Hamsters. Eater of Babies's over there. The one with the hood."

made me laugh. And Lord of the Rings will never be the same again.

I've been to the Isle of Wight a couple of times and found it hard enough to struggle across a windy hilltop at Alum Bay, I can't imagine walking the whole island. Congratulations on surviving it.

[wellinghall.livejournal.com]

*hugs Elaine's hip* (metaphorically speaking)

*hugs Pellinor's feet* (definitely metaphorically speaking!)

[gileswench.livejournal.com]

And now I hear E from The Incredibles:

NO CLOAKS! but I will patch the clownsuit.

I think cloaks are sort of like corsets when it comes to actual wear: if you get juuuust the right one and it's fitted juuuuust right, then it's fabulous...but it's nearly impossible to find one that fits correctly and very difficult to find someone to mentor you properly in the care and feeding thereof.

That's part of the reason I don't do either these days.

OTOH, it's loads of fun to read/hear tales of the horrors others face when trying to wear them.

[wellinghall.livejournal.com]

A greatcoat might not look quie so medieval, but it's easy to manage!

[evilmissbecky.livejournal.com]

I think you should share your cloak tales with Diana Wynn Jones, to include in the next Toughguide. :-)

[helflaed.livejournal.com]

There is a reason why I usually wear a shawl type cloak for re-enactment purposes. As for practicality, wool is always best. Even when sodden it will still insulate. It's just when the wet finally penetrates down to the linen underdress that you suddenly freeze...

[nilsigma.livejournal.com]

OK, so its slightly off-topic but Jane Austen uses mud to great effect when Elizabeth walks to Bingley's house in Pride and Prejudice. Her muddy appearance rather turns Darcy on! And Bath streets are always 'filthy' after rain.