Just the process of exploring backcountry land - that is, land that stretches beyond a given established trail system in a wilderness, and which must be navigated with map, compass, and altimeter - can provide a number of useful lessons and insights.
First, one has to relearn all sorts of old logic systems for navigating territory, as well as how to pay attention to how land features work, what they say visually and aurally, and what it all means for one's own orientation to the land.
This is because modern trail systems are so ubiquitous, and so convenient, so that they necessarily relegate more fine-grained navigational details to the background, or even out of one's attention completely. Yes, trails can sometimes disappear or become ambiguous and one has to navigate then, but for the most part one is on a pressed down track which has been well-traveled, with all of the expectations of time, distance, and energy that come with that.
Without all of that, one has to make various decisions concerning time, energy, and orientation. Where do the rivers go, and where will the water be? Should one get up on this higher shelf of land before one gets stuck and pushed down further into the valley where one doesn't want to go? How long will it take to traverse this field of crumbled rock? What landmarks and high points can be utilized for navigation? What wildlife can one expect in a given biome? How distinguished is the landscape, and can one retrace one's steps if one gets into trouble? And so on.
It is the presence of density and regularity of human activity that allows for the stability and accessibility of one's own human needs and expectations. Where people have been en masse, one knows one can have an easier and more dependable time, and focus one's energy and thinking on simpler navigation, such as being in physical shape, wearing the right clothes, allowing enough time, bringing the right supplies, and so on.
Even in the backcountry, traversal is easier and faster when as little as a trickle of people have come through, and there are cairn markers to follow and informal packed down trails to follow which usually mark out the most sensible traversals.
It is when one is lost and running out of time, with the sun going down, that all of the concerns of navigation and economy of energy become so pressing, and take up so much space in one's consciousness. And when one is alone and meets a bear on the pathway, one's own frailty in relation to the land becomes all the more apparent.
