“On many of my adventures, nature provides the soundtrack. I often find I don’t need to bring my own. Raging or passive water, ferocious and glorious winds ripping at my hood, spindrift skating across plates of ice – it’s all music, and I search for it. I’ve been known to stop at a heavy gate that makes a wonderful tone poem as it swings through its arc. It's music.
"Any song I love will have a good effect on my mood when it comes on, but occasionally a piece of music coincides with a moment in time when music, weather and unfolding scenery compose an instance of perfection in life, and together create something beyond nature.
"My favourite memory of such a moment came while listening to ‘Onions Wrapped in Rubber’ by Tortoise. I topped out on Glyder Fawr in flat light on a winter's day. The visibility seemed endless, but for the occasional broken cloud heading east on a moderate breeze. At the very moment my vista expanded to take in the Snowdon massif, the gigantic opening drum riff filled my ears, my head, my body. The clouds absorbed it, the frigid sky beyond shook, the cliffs of Yr Elen deflected it - the sound of drums was the only sound the world made.
"What followed, as my feet cooled, fastened to the spot, the blood thumping around my temples, the winds pushed ice around on the summit plateau, is a composition that today still feels as though it was composed for that moment, for me and only me. That geography and that soundscape through the prism of my experience have forged an indelible memory, an out of body experience."