Live for the Journey, not for the Prize

 All images COPYRIGHT asserted - David Geddes at The Open Sky

The title comes from  a recent press article describing how Frank Wild's ashes were at last recently buried at South Georgia beside the man with whom he explored the Antarctic a hundred years ago - Sir Ernest Shackleton. The phrase struck a chord with me.

The 'journey' has always been much more important than the 'arrival' for me. I have never considered a mountain climbed as being conquered, for the descent is often more difficult and the interests consuming the days of approach have almost always outweighed the summit moments. 

Likewise I do not list my summits. In Scotland there is great interest in ticklisting the Munros, then the Corbetts, now the Marilyns and also the Islands. I don't object to this, but I dont take part. I prefer to visit a wonderful and complex mountain a dozen times, and in different ways, than arithmetically deal with numbers. My bookshelves are as full of books on nature, old communities, geology, bugs, butterflies, moths and wild flowers and orchids; as of mountain or sea journeys. At the end of a successful day out, I'll be deep inside those books, learning and appreciating the new details of what has been observed. Likewise clubs that foster a feeling of exclusivity are too closed a place for me. My increasingly carefully considered companions on mountain journeys are very much appreciated. I do have a conflict between photographic outings and mountaineering or sailing ones. The issues of mixed agendas conflicting is a difficult one.

This journey made in January 2010 began unusually with a frozen sea at Lochcarron, the stark beauty of the Rannoch Moor as snow clouds lifted, and finished the car caught in deep snowdrifts in the Scottish Borders at sunset. The fleeting moments of good light, occasional throughout the journey were very special indeed.