MOUNTAIN BATTLES
OVER THE PAST DECADE, my Life of a Mountain film series has dominated my life for long periods. In 2016, after I finished the second in this series, on Blencathra, I chose to take a ten-month break, partly to work on other projects, but mostly to recover from the intensity of production.
My recuperation, however, was to meet an abrupt end. I’d been out mountain biking, exploring farmers’ tracks and little-used bridleways in the Eden Valley. As night fell I made my way out of Bolton and was speeding down towards the River Eden when a bank of fog appeared. I know the road–it’s got a couple of hairpins before you reach the bridge–and I’d started to slow; but the fog suddenly diffused the light from my bike lamps, virtually blinding me. “Bugger, that’s not good,” I thought, as I braked hard, then hit the verge, then flew like an arrow into the roadside drystone wall. Because I’d only popped out for a short ride, I’m ashamed to admit I wasn’t wearing a helmet.
My memory of coming off the bike–and the rock wall shining white in the beam of my headtorch as I
