I wanted to work hard. I wanted to prove myself somehow worthy of the good things I had known.
He had forgotten the golden rule of cold, which the DS had told us over and over: ‘Don’t let yourself get cold. Act early, while you still have your senses and mobility. Add a layer, make shelter, get moving faster – whatever your solution is, just do it.
The DS had told us the parameters – run, you pass; walk, you fail.
The thing about a ‘comfort zone’ is that it sounds, well, just too comfortable – and when you are too comfortable you lose your edge. That’s why I call it a comfort pit, because a pit is somewhere you want to get out of as fast as possible.
You are wonderfully and powerfully made. In other words: it is no accident you are good at certain things!
Families are like fudge – mostly sweet with a few nuts!
Three words that are the beating heart behind why many explorers or adventurers do what they do. ‘Because it’s there.
As a former pilot in World War I, Walter had always preferred flying as a means of travel, rather than going by sea. Whenever he was in the Dakota, flying over to Northern Ireland, he always asked for the front seat, joking that if it crashed then he wanted to die first.
These made Trucker and me look back on the summer Selection days as quite balmy and pleasant! It is strange how accustomed you become to hardship, and how what once seemed horrific can soon become mundane.
We can’t always choose our circumstances but we can choose how we respond to what life throws at us, and there is power when we realize our ability to alter our destiny.
In every potential sponsor’s eyes, I was a nobody. And soon I had notched up more rejection letters than is healthy for any one man to receive.
It was like climbing a mountain of waist-deep molasses while giving someone a fireman’s carry, who, for good measure, was also trying to force a pair of frozen socks into your mouth. Nice.
Meals were often eaten standing up, and I wasn’t quite sure why they had bothered to issue us with beds, we got to see them so little.
Their hands were also huge – two massive leathery mitts that looked like hairy wicket keeper’s gloves.
I learned two very strong lessons from them: the grass isn’t always greener elsewhere, and true love is worth fighting for.
Say “why not?” rather than “why?
We live in a world where everything tends to get oversold, then all too often under-delivers. I’d prefer to be known for the opposite.
You can’t keep on top of the world for ever.
It’s the storms of life that make us strong, and as with all dark nights, sometimes we just have to hang on in there. Doggedly. The dawn will always come. The light will always win. And the fire, in nature, is all powerful.
My job was simple: have faith through the storm, be determined in my actions, smart in my decisions, trusting of my instinct, and free from worrying about whether I succeeded or failed.
Oh boy. Plenty of lessons learnt. Almost always through pain.