thoughts on maps: the cartographies of travel and navigation

A month ago I took the train from Glacier Park to Seattle, just for the hell of it. The trip cost $90 - crossing Western Montana, Idaho and Washington along the way - and ultimately brought me, some 14 hours later, to a station near the Puget Sound. Flying the same distance would take about a quarter of the time, without any significant difference in price. Yet I was obstinate. The particular choice of transportation was not based on measurements of quantifiable time, but on qualifiable process. I wanted to be a traveler.

This physical experience of moving from one point to the next is the underlying theme of James Akerman’s compilation The Cartographies of Travel and Navigation. It is a book not about “wayfinding,” but “wayforging,” specifically addressing the roles maps have played in the
act of travel. Over the course of six chapters, Akerman puts together a historiography of how we get from place to place, while calling attention to some of the more undeveloped themes in the chronology of travel cartography.

Both the process and intention of travel have evolved remarkably. We once took donkeys to neighboring markets when now we take airplanes to opposite hemispheres. Maps are a product of function, and the changes in travel cartography are fundamentally linked to transformations in travel technology. Early maritime navigators as well as air pilots in the late 19th and early 20th century needed accurate ways to measure bearing and speed, recognize landmarks and safety zones, and calculate the difficulty of approach based on location. The building of the transcontinental railroad required detailed documentation of maps ranging from the initial building process to consolidation, sightseeing and exurban commuter timetables; and the rise of the automobile route map set the precedent for modern tourism. Cartographies
of Travel and Navigation is intended for readers “to appreciate that the planners and operators of modern transportation systems and the travelers who used them valued their maps on the move, both as navigational tools and as representations of radically new forms of mobility .” In the introduction, Akerman is quick to point out that, as a comprehensive history of navigational cartography, this book stands alone. And while there is an extensive catalogue of cartographic history on the subject of maritime navigation, a comparative history of overland
travel is noticeably absent. Past 1800, the selection of sources is even more detached, and whatever literature does exist falls into highly specialized categories. By contrast, the use of primary source material in this book is extensive. Each article is supplemented by graphics, full
color inset plates, figures and illustrations which help generate compelling cases for the changing use of the travel map. For instance, an article on ‘the Milus of Mobility,’ challenges the prevailing assumption that maps have always been used as a tool for wayfinding. Author Catherine DelanoSmith draws on everything from sketch maps of river crossings prepared for Spanish commander Don Lope de Acuna to extracts of 14th century travel itineraries, which were used both as travel
guides as well as a way for officials to check distances before disbursing payment for mileage claimed. Spiritual route maps and distance tables are also cited as evidence of maps as planning, rather than finding aids.

Andrew Cook’s article ‘Surveying the Seas’ is about the cartography of maritime navigation and the creation of nautical routes to the East Indies. As he explains; sea charts are fundamentally different from land maps because, while land is a stable environment in which static relationships between positions can be plotted and measured, the sea is a locality of estimation. Accurate calculation of location was at the mercy of latitude, wind and astronomy. These challenges are clarified in Cook’s careful scrutiny of the maps of Alexander Dalrymple, a man fifty years ahead of his time in his advocacy of systematizing and standardizing
hydrographic information.

The same degree of comprehensive source analysis is maintained throughout the book. ‘Mapping a Transcontinental Nation’ by Jerry Musich discusses the mapping of the American railroad by analyzing investor, land promotion, general reference, industry and passenger travel maps. These sources provide the basis for conceptualization of the subsequent stages of railroad passenger map production; the point being that railroads were ultimately responsible for creating a mobile nation. Akerman’s own contribution brings the book into the 20th century with the invention of the American roadmap and ‘The Making of a National Motorized Space.’ His sources include scenic routes and highway maps, interstate systems and advertisements; drawing together the idea that maps of this period effectively transformed the traveler into the tourist.

Once we figured out how to move from one side of the country to the other, we wanted to do it faster; which means we would need to learn how to fly. The emergence of aeronautical charts, outlined in ‘Up in the Air in More Ways than One,’ was a process requiring the synthesis
of maritime navigational techniques with the generalized representations of earth’s surface such as those used by railroad maps. Yet aviation charts were also intended to served a third purpose; calculating spacial relationships between airborne traffic. Initially, pilots used a variety of visual navigation techniques including contact piloting and dead reckoning, both of which required chart reading and landmark identification. Therefore early aviation maps generally only included
manmade features visible from the sky. Ralph Ehrenberg’s chapter looks at the changes in the intended use air maps; from the early Sperry Aviation Charts, to US army progressive military maps, and finally to commercial and corporate designs. Such shifts in use produced led to
alterations in both the quality and content of air maps. The last article, ‘Maps on Wheels,’ gets into the realm of the “moving map” or the automobile navigation system. “Intelligent transportation,” as it is now called, locates the map within the vehicle itself. A GPS dot on a digital landscape. And while such maps do offer the advantage of quick access to location specific directions regarding “best route” or “shortest distance,” they will most likely never fully replace paper road maps which have the advantage of being useful anywhere at anytime.

So what exactly is a travel map? A measure of distance between places? A qualifier of landscape features? An assertion of territorial control? Perhaps the best answer is “all of the above.” Artificially powered movement has changed the way in which we think about getting
from one place to the next, simply because we are now dealing with the complexities of choice. As Akerman explains, “travel, like the exercise of political power, is by its very nature geographical.” Regardless definition, travel cartography is clearly an evolving field, both in design and objective. This is a book not about travelers, but about traveling. And while maps may have the ability to act as windows to the conceit of the traveler, the underlying point is that mapping is merely a footnote in the history of human movement through space.