‘Sometimes I can’t verbalise what these places mean to me, and do for me. You enter them and leave them as a different man. Every single time. Irrespective of the inner dialogue or war that you may be waging. Entering them in the best head space will still leave you learning something afterwards. I can all but guarantee it. If one is receptive and open to growth, to learning, and most importantly to putting in the hard yards. There is something in really slogging it, toiling, daily. Being in the elements. The cold, the sun, the cold wind, rain, snow, dust, aching legs and feet. We are gripped and imprisoned by the comfortable life as humans, in every sense, and it will be our demise.
I am often called a ‘mountain goat’ by clients when guiding. Obviously as a compliment. These mountains are an extension of me. I am convinced of this. I feel most at home here, most alive. But I also feel most willing to enter into any self improvement here. And strap my boots ready for battle. For war. Whatever that may be.
The Peripatetic Way is medicinal and healing in these harsh mountains in an incorrigible way. It will extirpate your fears, insecurities and hang ups. Swiftly. Like a Cretan dagger to the lung.
Taking a moment to feel my jelly like legs, or catch my breath when rucking up a steep slope, I gaze around at the sinuous, winding sheep paths spread out around us like calculated spider webs, and I see those two white specks, those incredible athletes pouring their hearts and souls into what they are doing, being fully present, full of gusto, with a voraciousness to truly do what they love. And I am overcome with adulation, with emotion and with a sense of humbleness I can’t quite describe. Being humble is so very important out here in this place, with these sentient animals, mans ego is a heavy burden for a dog to carry. And no dog needs that. They are alchemic in their ways. Through their physically defying feats. They transform pain, confusion, anger, and insecurities into love. When their eyes meet mine at a moment of brief respite, I am overcome with a dazzling appreciation of love and adulation that almost always leaves me bewildered.
As a result, even in my worst days, my worst internal wars, they leave me otherwise sanguine in that state. Their passion and ways invade my every sense. My every fibre. And thus they heal me in conjunction with these harsh yet beautiful mountains.
And so I adorn myself with my bandolier each and every morning, and trudge out, once more into the fray. Adorned for war. For the only war we know.’
Always chasing the horizon,
Chris.
Pictured: High up near Barkly East with Baggio and Aera of Ourano.