Backtracking: identifying, reading and following your own foot impressions to find the way back

No. 3 in a 3-part series of – Man-tracking in SAR Operations and Investigations

(Image of ‘The Tracker at Work’ – Kyt Lyn Walken^[i] somewhere in Europe)

‘The Forest rolls on forever, amidst its green carpet the mountains rise, foreboding, a maniacal maze of game trails…I know there are tracks…but where are they, where am I?’^[i]

Among all wilderness navigation skills, few are as practical and as misunderstood as backtracking. Most people think the term simply means, "turning around and walking back." In reality, true backtracking is much more than retracing your steps. It is the art of reading your own sign in reverse, interpreting the trail you have left behind, and using it to reconstruct your route to safety.

Whether you are crossing a dense forest, moving through alpine terrain, or navigating open moorland, every step you take leaves evidence. Footprints in soft ground are the most obvious signs, but they are only part of the story. Crushed grass, displaced stones, bent twigs, broken vegetation, disturbed moss, scuff marks on rock, and even the way water has been displaced in muddy areas all become clues that point back toward where you came from.

Learning to recognize these signs while travelling and then interpreting them in reverse is one of the most valuable survival skills anyone can acquire.

A tracker quickly learns that the ground records movement. Even where no clear footprint exists, the environment changes ever so slightly when a person passes through it.

A boot compresses vegetation differently from the surrounding grass. Loose gravel, for example, is displaced downhill. A twig snaps to reveal fresh pale wood. Dew is brushed from leaves during the early morning. Small stones are overturned, exposing darker soil beneath.

These signs may appear insignificant individually, but together they form a continuous trail you definitely need to be able to see and to follow.

Backtracking is the process of following that trail backwards.

Unlike following someone else's tracks, you already know who made them. Your task is simply to identify your own passage and use it to return to the last point where you were certain of your location.

Observation

Many people believe successful backtracking depends on having an excellent memory. Memory certainly helps, but observation is far more important.

Good trackers constantly scan the ground as they move. They notice where their boots leave distinct impressions and where the terrain changes enough to make their passage visible.

They also make a habit of looking behind them from time to time. A landscape often looks completely different from the opposite direction. By occasionally turning around while walking, you create a mental picture of what your return journey will actually look like.

This simple habit has prevented countless people from becoming genuinely lost.

Reading your own marks and signs

Following your own trail in reverse requires patience.

Rather than searching for a continuous line of footprints, experienced trackers move from one confirmed sign to the next. One footprint leads to another, a broken fern points toward a disturbed patch of moss. The moss leads to a freshly displaced stone. The stone leads to another boot print in soft soil. And so on.

The trail gradually rebuilds itself.

If a sign disappears, the tracker does not panic. Instead, they return to the last confirmed point and search carefully until another piece of evidence is found. This disciplined approach is much safer than guessing. Your own footprints are only one component of backtracking. The landscape itself becomes part of the trail.

Perhaps you remember stepping over a fallen tree, crossing a shallow stream, climbing onto a rocky spur, or squeezing between two large boulders. These terrain features reinforce the physical signs left on the ground.

A personal experience in the Italian Alps

In 2021, I experienced firsthand how valuable true backtracking can be.

I was exploring a remote area of the Italian Alps, between the cities of Lecco and Sondrio, having left the marked trail to photograph some pieces of tactical equipment—my backpack and several pouches—against the dramatic mountain scenery.

I had only moved a relatively short distance from the path, but like many photographers, I became completely absorbed in finding the right composition. While I was working, the weather changed unexpectedly.

Low cloud drifted into the valley, rapidly reducing visibility. Within minutes, many of the distant landmarks I had been using subconsciously disappeared behind a blanket of mist. The landscape suddenly became uniform, making orientation much more difficult than it had been only a short time before.

Fortunately, I resisted the temptation to wander in search of the trail. I rather used my knowledge and experience. So I began reading my own sign backwards. Although the rocky alpine terrain did not preserve perfect footprints everywhere, there were enough subtle clues to reconstruct my route. I recognised small disturbances in loose gravel, flattened patches of alpine grass, a few displaced stones, and several places where I had stepped between boulders while carrying my camera equipment.

Each confirmed sign led me to the next. Rather than searching for the hiking trail itself, I searched for evidence of my own passage. Slowly, the route began to rebuild itself beneath my feet.

Within a short time, I reached ground that looked increasingly familiar before finally stepping back onto the marked trail. The experience reinforced a lesson I have never forgotten: in poor visibility, your own tracks can become your most reliable map. This is what I constantly tell my students.

The Balonne River Story

The author and Toby ‘Bulltoe’ somewhere on the Balonne 1972

Kyt Lyn Walken’s true confession of being temporarily disoriented in the Italian Alps has persuaded me to similarly confess to falling prey to some natural trickery of deceit in the Condamine Channel river country of Western Queensland many years ago.

I was hunting wild pigs with a mate and dog, it was Christmas Eve and we were thrown off our intended course along the Balonne River by an uncharted billabong (a type of Oxbow lake).   At the time it was raining hard and we were in black-soil country, which had us constantly kicking the inches of mud from our boots as we trudged on with our hats bent forward to keep the torrential sub-cyclonic rain from our faces. 

One of the learning’s of a bushman in these conditions is to find a hollow tree and wait up for a while, but as young fellows we still had a lot to learn.  Needless to say we were dog-tired when after many hours we realised we had gone in a complete circle back to the billabong we had earlier tried to avoid.

We knew we had to walk out of this now flooding mess somehow, so we headed in a straight line away from the river. My mate had been a jackaroo (junior stockman) years ago, and he knew that away from the river there would be a fence line somewhere, which would eventually lead to a road access point.  Well we found an old broken fence line and luckily it did eventually lead us out to a track and onto to a road, where we found a homestead and a friendly somewhat amused grazier (rancher) who took us back to our camp.

Lesson learnt – double vigilance when trekking in bad weather, maybe best to hunker down and stay put and follow the points presented by Kyt in this article for knowing where you are at all times.

The discipline of the Tracker

Backtracking is not a desperate measure used only after becoming lost. It is a mindset that begins the moment you leave a known route.

A good tracker moves through the landscape while constantly asking simple questions, like:

• What signs am I leaving behind?

• Would I recognise this place if I approached it from the opposite direction?

• If visibility suddenly disappeared, could I follow my own passage back?

• 
  

Thinking this way dramatically reduces the chances of becoming truly lost.

The New England Ranges.

One final warning from me on survival is on the criticality of time and the rationing of water when in a borderline climate, it might not be a blazing hot desert but if you’re thirsty and you can’t get a drink then you might be in trouble.  

Once again, many years ago as a young man out hunting I got into a little bit of bother in the bush.  This time I was hunting wild goats in the Severn River Country of the Rugged New England Ranges of New South Wales.  The weather was warm but not blazing hot.

I was alone and knew I was running out of time to get back to my vehicle which was parked on the top of a ridgeline some miles above where I was way down in a dry creek gorge.   I began my climb back out and about half way back up I realised I was in dire need of water, also light was fading and I had to move fast or risk having to stay the night in the bush, without water.

There was water back at my vehicle, which was some miles away above me.  I was young and fit but I needed to quench an agonising thirst the likes of which I had never experienced before, when as if a divine request was immediately delivered, there but a few feet before was the most disgustingly yet beautiful algae bogged soak I had ever seen. 

I fell to my belly and brushed the black ooze aside and thrust my lips into the mess and sucked up the bog.  As I tried to filter the fluid through my teeth I caught from my left eye the image of the biggest pink striped yellow leech I have ever seen weaving towards me.

I leapt to survival and almost sprinted the rest of my journey up the range.  I might add that after drinking that slime I suffered no ill after effects.  However, I did learn a strong lesson on the criticality of time and the rationing of water.

From that day on I have always calculated twice the time to come out of the mountains as it has taken to hike in. I know this story is not about following your tracks, but it is about ‘thinking’, attention and patience as Kyt tells us.  It is all about survival.

Final considerations

Finding your way home is not always about discovering a new route. More often, it is about recognising the one you have already made. Every journey leaves a trail, even when you cannot immediately see it. Learning to read that trail in reverse to interpret your own sign with patience and attention is one of the purest expressions of field-craft. In survival, the ground is always telling a story. Backtracking is simply learning how to read it backwards.

A big thanks to Kyt Lyn Walken for sharing her knowledge on backtracking for inclusion in this article

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Written and prepared by Valentine Smith APM of www.footprintsinthewilderness.com.au on 08/08/2026, based on and inclusive of notes and material provided by Kyt Lyn Walken, The Founder of ‘The Way of Tracking’ (European leg of Hull’s Tracking School, Virginia, U.S.)

^[i] An excerpt from ‘Losing Track’ by the author Valentine Smith 21 July 2022.

^[1]Kyt Lyn Walken, is the founder of ‘The Way of Tracking’ (European leg of Hull’s Tracking School, Virginia, U.S.) and is among the professionals contributing to the spread of man-tracking instruction in Europe.

As a professional man-tracker and instructor specializing in the reading, interpretation, and pursuit of human sign. Over the years, Kyt has worked extensively with civilian, volunteer, and rescue organizations throughout Europe, helping introduce practical tracking methodologies into SAR environments.

Her operational and instructional experience includes volunteer work with SAR teams in the Alps and training collaborations involving:

Protezione Civile units in Italy

Secours Alpine (French Switzerland)

RED Dog (German Switzerland)

West Mercia SAR Team (U.K.)

West Cornwall SAR (U.K.)

Man-tracker Germany (Germany)

Associazione Nazionale Alpini Soccorritori

SAR teams in Slovenia

Busqueda y Rescate Murcia (Spain)

Her work has particularly emphasized the integration of man-tracking with search dogs and wilderness search operations.

Kyt has also written extensively about the operational value of tracking within search and rescue contexts, highlighting how terrain interpretation can support missing-person investigations and reduce search uncertainty.

^[1] An excerpt from ‘Losing Track’ by the author Valentine Smith 21 July 2022.