It’s just a chilled day of enjoyment in the mountains, pushing my pace, feeling my leg muscles come back stronger and stronger, more and more. My chest is beginning to feel better. Recovery is well under way and I’m becoming more excited for upcoming projects, to throw myself back into shooting again.
We solo on the gentler start, comfortable on the terrain but then the rope comes off the bag, time to pitch. This will be our most technical gully, we’ve done some II climb on ridgey-clambery terrain but not in a gully, so I’m quite interested to see what the gear-situation is.
The beauty of solo travel, of backyard adventures, of being able to take yourself off into the wilderness to switch off for a while – to focus on creation, reflection, and a few hours of peace.
Experimenting through so many things helped lead me to this point, knowing a little more about who I am by not defining myself as one thing.
We thought that golden hour was falling a little flat. How wrong we were. I sent the Mavic up and it captured what my own, high viewpoint eyes couldn’t quite get: an even higher sweep of the two valleys, the misty hidden mountains in the background, and the stillness of the air.
The sun dipped lower and lower. I fell, again and again.
And then, I just… got it.
This week somebody asked me if carrying a camera ruins the experience of adventuring for me.
You know when a simple comment leads to an adventure you didn’t quite expect?
There’s a lot of reasons I’m angry, annoyed, frustrated, during any given day.