FREEZE FRAME

THERE WAS A SENSE, that week, of the world drawing in on itself. The headlines were full of apocalyptic warnings as the number of daily coronavirus cases in the UK crept up from one or two to ten or twelve. I don’t think anyone could predict just how much our lives would change in a short period of time, but I felt one thing powerfully, instinctively: while it lasts, enjoy the freedom you have now.

I felt the pull of wide landscapes and vast skies. As I traced ridgelines on maps and studied guidebooks, I realised that I’d already planned the perfect itinerary. Back in February 2015, I’d arrived in Aviemore to find the northern Cairngorms blanketed in deep snow. Even walking up through Rothiemurchus was a struggle. By the time I reached the little gear shop at Glenmore, I realised that without snowshoes I’d be going nowhere; fortunately they had a pair of inexpensive plastic ones they didn’t mind selling to me. After a night at Ryvoan bothy, I struggled to the summit of Bynack More the next day in atrocious weather, fighting my way through thigh-deep drifts, and decided to turn back before it got any worse. My ambition