Simon Collison in Another Week in Edale perfectly captures why I enjoy hiking in bad weather, something those in my proximity consider borderline reckless:
A calm day is always welcome, but there’s a perverse pleasure in struggling against violent gusts, or enjoying the steady rhythmic crackle of rain on a waterproof hood. Sometimes, bad weather can feel like a gift, exactly what’s needed to stir the senses and awaken the brain.
I also share with him my disillusionment about the sublime purity of nature.
When I was young I saw only what I wanted to see — mostly myself — in what appeared to be a beautiful landscape with the occasional thrill of the sublime. But now, I see every sign of intensive land management; little is natural or truly wild when almost every hectare is the product of either sheep farming, grouse production, or forestry. And I think about issues of ownership, class, exclusion, climate and tourism. This landscape is political, and it reflects all of us.