Eagles soared above classic crags overlooking vast lochs.  As we wound our way back to some rudimentary and remote cottage through the last rays of the evening sun, majestic deer darted across the road in the gloaming.  Of course there was rain too, rain like I'd never seen before, non-stop for two weeks during a stay near Invararay.

Our constant quest for wider horizons must have driven our parents mad.  We explored all the exciting looking routes my brother and I could cobble together from a road map.  Numerous and, in those days of predominantly single track roads with passing places, lengthy excursions teetering along the edge of west coast cliffs.  Many of the now-bridged lochs were still spanned by ferry only adding to the excitement for two apparently adventurous teenagers.

Complete the picture with highland ponies in the field adjacent to one of our cottages, ospreys fishing at the Loch Garten Reserve, salmon leaping up ladders, seal, dolphin and porpoise sightings and an ascent of Cairngorm by chairlift.  I remember no fear as I was whisked through space to the highest point on which I had ever stood.  Just elation and anticipation at the vista of peaks and ridges marching before me into infinity.

Yet, when I went away to college I chose a location many miles from home and family and about as far away from any significant hills as it's possible to be in England.  And perhaps that's where the real problems began.  As an impossibly shy teenager, completely unable to assess, never mind ask for, what I needed, I never considered the potential impact of distancing myself so totally from everything I knew and loved.

The effect was almost immediate.  Away from the protection of a familiar environment, I was completely unable to cope with college work or the social life.  Although I managed to join the walking club, the highest point in the Chilterns and surrounding countryside is only a few hundred feet.  I spent Sundays craving a hill with a view.  Any hill with any view.  My reaction was akin to claustrophobia.  Ever since, no matter what the circumstances, I have recognised a regular need to physically climb above my surroundings in order to rise above difficulties and return perspective to my life.

College confronted me with some hard lessons.  The only significant new activity I tried prior to that was learning to ride.  Like many others before and since as a small girl I longed for a pony.  As I grew older I realised that there was no way I would ever actually own one.  However, once circumstances permitted, weekly riding lessons were arranged.