and thunder

Hergé (the pen name of author and artist Georges Remi) had a fine way of signalling thunder in his Tintin adventures: a brooding, gunmetal sky riven with the quivering word BROMMMM. Walkers should fear the BROMMMM above all else, especially if they’re up high somewhere. Thunder, of course, means lightning, which doesn’t work well in conjunction with fragile human physiognomy and open, exposed hilltops. We don’t go a bundle on scary things in this mag, but thunderstorms are one of the few real red flags we can fly. If a thunderstorm is forecast, stay inside. And if one creeps up on you while you’re out, get off the hill, quickly. Don’t stand still and don’t shelter beneath tall things like cliffs or crags – and especially not trees, as they are easy targets and fantastic electrical conductors. In the worst case scenario – if you’re stuck on miles of exposed moorland and a thunderstorm is directly above you – find a flattish area that isn’t the highest point around, sit on your rucksack (to isolate yourself from the wet ground) and huddle forward, to put as much physical matter between the sky and your heart as you can. But that’s enough scary stuff for one issue. With a bit of nous, it should never come to that. Walkers tend to be a smartish bunch. We avoid the BROMMMM.