The mistakes that make us
ONE JANUARY DAY, about 12 years ago, I walked up a snow-covered Ben Lomond, lost my bearings in a whiteout, and ended up fumbling my way out of a steep-sided ravine that I definitely wasn’t supposed to be in. I’d like to chalk that one up to inexperience; but I was reminded of this moment as recently as this summer, on a very different kind of day, when I ran out of water on a solo wild camp on top of Aonach Beag at the end of a long, freakishly hot day, got thirsty, and gambled on slithering a good 200 metres or so down the side of the mountain in the dark to where the map told me there was a water source (thankfully, Ordnance Survey wasn’t lying to me). Neither…