Some are fancier than others.
Let's see if we can make any of this sound interesting, even a little...
(1) A measuring wheel is a device that records the revolutions of a wheel, converting them to distance traveled by the wheel as it is pushed along a trail. These things are used to measure distance for guidebook descriptions, and, it is said, also used to record the location of spots where trail work needs to be done.
(2) Example: Ed called his measuring wheel a "cyclometer", which is true, as far as it goes, but slower uphill, and sounds almost interesting but still isn't, as you can tell if you've ever seen one.
(3) You know those gizmos that when you see them you think "Wow! I wish I had invented that!"? Well, this isn't one of them.
If you see someone using one of these you'll probably think "Wow! That poor dork has to walk this whole trail pushing some stupid rusty squeaking old piece of rattling metal crap." Which is about right.
Some of them these days could be like the battery-powered bicycle computers that do mileage, current speed, maximum speed, elapsed time, and average speed, plus tell you the time of day and whether you are still the fairest one of all. Or whether it's time to give up on that whole youth and beauty thing, act your age, and cheat.
But if you see a measuring wheel at all you'll probably see the old squeaky kind made of waste iron and held together by twine and hope, because measuring trail lengths is low-tech, low-pay work and no one really gives a damn anyway except people who make maps and, given the profit margins in selling maps to hikers, actually measuring anything could cost enough to put them out of business, so it's easier to copy the numbers from someone else's maps or simply make up whatever numbers sound good. And that kind of explains why you see the same wrong intel on different maps.
The absolute oldest form of measuring wheel was a wheel. But later on, when people got tired of rolling that along with their hands, they put the wheel on a stick so at least they could stand up while it happened, but they still had to count how many revolutions the wheel made, which is a bunch of fun around the almost-done point when you lose count. Which is another reason to make up the numbers.
And why, later on, someone thought of hooking up an odometer to the wheel, to let the odometer do the counting. Which is a lot better until you get to the almost-done point, sit down to take the load off for a few minutes, maybe have a smoke and a swig of water, and accidentally, while brushing dust off the odometer, hit the little button on it that does a reset. Which is yet another reason to make up the numbers.
Hey, you're lucky to even get minimum wage.
And maybe that's why the stick is part of the mechanism, so you can detach it and hit yourself over the head with it, or if you're lucky and have an assistant, and, well, you know where this leads...
And then you start thinking. Not about the assistant with all the fresh lumps and welts, but about the bigger picture. Which is, if some government agency, say, has the time and money to go to the trouble to roll a wheel along a trail, then that explains all the bumps and mud holes and washouts because there isn't enough money left to take care of those things after generating some numbers to put on maps. Most of which are made up anyway, and yet you, dear hiker person, do keep buying maps and going out hopefully, which yet again, in turn, really says a lot about you too, doesn't it, in the end? Really? Eh?
Good luck with the rest of your pointless life.
Have anything worth adding? Then try sosayseff@gmail.com
Me? Wheel-less but still hoping to count in some way.
Etc...
so says eff: sporadic spurts of grade eff distraction
definitions: outdoor terms
fiyh: dave's little guide to ultralight backpacking stoves
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