The Top of the Mountain is Always a Little Bit Further to Go

Or did we pass it already?

On the Annapurna Base Camp trek, Nepal, 1994. Author’s photo.

I don’t love walking up steep slopes. And yet I seem to have found myself doing exactly this, many times throughout my life — much of the time through choice alone.

I live in Devon in the UK, where finding flat land is like finding treasure. The coast path is an endless trail of steep ups and downs, from clifftops to beaches. The hills are majestic, green curvy beauties that loom over the valleys.

As a dog owner and walker, I regularly find myself walking these trails.

My house is on the edge of Dartmoor National Park, home to some of the highest points in the south west of the UK. Over the years, I have regularly taken hikes with my dog right up on the moor. One of my favourite walks is along a ridge that is defined by a number of high tors — peaks upon which rest the giant 280-million-year-old volcanic remains of granite. Approaching each tor, the path climbs steeply to the peak before dropping off and then climbing steeply once more.

The view along the ridge from one of the tors. Author’s photo.

For someone who doesn’t love walking up steep slopes, I put myself through a lot of…