From this moment on, I saw them all the time and continue to do so 18 months down the road. I don’t just mean hearts because quite clearly that would be more than a little monotonous. What I mean is signs. Perceptible indicators of something not immediately apparent; a pointer, a nudge, a reminder, an affirmation. Whatever shape or form they have taken, they have guided me in a very clear direction on the incredible adventure that my life has been transformed into over the past couple of years. And they have always appeared when I’ve been playing in the outdoors. In the early days of the fallout, I sometimes missed them but as clarity, trust, and calm were slowly re-established within, so I could reflect and see that they were always there. 

 

I certainly missed the next one that occurred but it didn’t matter in the slightest because it was merely a symbol of reassurance that I was in good hands. What am I babbling about? A cow having a lie down in a field suggesting that strangely enough it will indeed continue to rain in July in Scotland? A red sky at 8pm indicating that shepherds should rush out and buy scratchcards? Not really. Just that when my Dad suggested I try ski touring with him following the incredible snowfall in Scotland in February 2009 I was also experiencing periods of enormous anxiety. I decided to push my limits, give it a go and it was the beginning of something that has become incredibly special and sacred in my life. The sign I missed? Oh just that my rental skis were Movement ‘Shamans’. Hell yeah I was in good hands. I was being looked after by not only the ever constant, knowledgeable and amazing man that is my father, but also by a North American Indian medicine man with incredible healing powers. With that combination behind me, failure was never really on the cards.

We three had a great time over the course of that winter. I say ‘that winter’ but it only really lasted four days. Its significance for me however was far longer lasting and wider reaching. When I look back over the various things this triumvirate accomplished in these action packed few days in 2009, it’s not the first trip up Cairngorm together nor the ascent of Fionn B’heinn in a complete whiteout that stand out as the most powerful memories. Of course it was amazing to skin up to the top of two Munros, but we actually had our best times together on the rather less vertically impressive Knock of Braemoray. Here one has to endure a whole 20 minutes of  ascent but is rewarded handsomely with a descent lasting a maximum of 20 seconds. Hardly a rival for the Haute Route but how can you beat being on your own at sunset, skinning up behind mountain hares to descend over powder sparkling like orange and pink jewels while grouse are flying overhead? That’ll be a resounding 1-0 to the Knock then. 

 

Since those early days of hearts and Shamans, there have been many more eyebrow raising incidents which have revealed themselves at interesting and opportune moments but it was these bad boys that were the keys that opened the door to the crazy adventure that my life currently resembles.

 
Yup, symbols and signs are there all around us. Of course they don’t mean a thing until you interpret them but as soon as you do, that interpretation gives them power, momentum and energy. And if you’re very lucky you just might end up like me – 34, living at home with your parents with a beaten up old car as your only asset, and working in a climbing shop. Oh go on, you know it sounds like fun. Someone did once say that true humour is the symbol of the freedom of the soul.