Metaphorically speaking, of course. It sounds dramatic, I know. But if you’ve ever been caught in a situation where nature’s raw power clashes with human frailty, you’ll understand.

Every year, I embark on a wild journey to reconnect with nature and myself. It’s become a non-negotiable for me. But nothing could have prepared me for what happened on the Isle of Skye.

It was the kind of hike that promises breathtaking views but demands every ounce of strength you’ve got. The terrain was brutal: jagged rocks, loose gravel, steep scrambles. The weather was worsening, but this wasn’t my first time dealing with tough conditions. I felt ready.

As we ascended, the fog closed in. Peaks that had been visible just moments before vanished, swallowed by a thick mist. Attempting the descent under these conditions felt like madness. The rain intensified, turning into a downpour that created miniature waterfalls on the slopes. Gravel and stones shifted beneath our feet.

Then came the moment that nearly ended it all. I was trying to navigate down a massive, wet boulder, nothing to hold onto, nowhere to securely place my feet. I could feel the abyss yawning behind me, just a few metres away. One wrong move and I’d be free-falling, the rocks below waiting to break my body. But somehow, with a bit of help from my friend, I managed to slide down the rugged terrain. We made it, but just barely.

For four more hours, we trudged through absolute darkness. By the time we reached the car, we were too stunned to speak. We just sat there in silence, processing what had just happened.

Looking back, I realise how a series of small, seemingly insignificant decisions led to that near-disaster:

We set off late, knowing it would get dark.

I had an injured knee from a hike the day before.

We didn’t leave a note on the car with our route, expected return time, or emergency contacts.

All these little oversights added up, creating the perfect storm.

But here’s the twist in the tale: after that harrowing experience on Skye, the Isle of Mull felt like paradise. The weather was perfect, with sunshine that seemed to bathe the entire island in gold. The views were breathtaking, the people kind and welcoming. Even witnessed wild dolphins and seals in their natural habitat. The crowning jewel was Fingal’s Cave.

I cannot tell you how much more you appreciate life and what it gives you when you climb from the lowest depths to the most euphoric heights. It’s a feeling that can fill your heart for a lifetime.

It’s the tough times, the moments when you’re pushed to your limits, that give you the contrast you need to truly appreciate the good in life.

You can’t fully appreciate the light without experiencing the dark.

Because I had faced down the storm, I could fully bask in the calm.

My lesson? Don’t shy away from life’s tough moments. They’re not obstacles; they’re opportunities.

Every descent is an ascent in disguise.