From as young as I can remember I've loved a good adventure. I grew up on a diet of the Famous Five, Willard Price and Swallows and Amazons and frequently dreamt of stumbling across a secret treasure map or smugglers hiding loot on an abandoned island. Joining Cubs and rising through the ranks to training young leaders and becoming a mountaineering and climbing instructor was a great opportunity to take part in so many fantastic activities.
When I got a ‘proper job’ I would still spend every free weekend, day off and holiday fitting in one activity or another. Camping with the Scouts one weekend, canoeing with friends the following and then squeezing in a rock climb with my brother on a Tuesday evening.
Then one day I stopped to think. What did I do today? I went cycling. Fullstop. I wanted more.
What had happened to my childhood dreams of unearthing buried treasure or a secret clifftop base? What had happened to trekking through the forest and sleeping in a tree house?
I realised that what I really yearned for was adventure. I craved that all encompassing, all consuming, desire of discovering what’s over the horizon or what's round the next bend in the river. I wanted to swim across the mist shrouded lake to camp on an island. I wanted to climb up a rock face then sleep in cave at the top. I wanted an expedition down a river on a hand built raft.
So from that moment I made a change. Whilst I still go out for a ride with friends or a paddle with the family, I now make the time - every once in a while - to go on an adventure, an epic adventure!