From our first Lake District hiking adventure in 2016 to a 10-year anniversary trip, this is a reflection on mountain adventures, friendship, community and why sometimes the best way to connect is to disconnect.
The First City Mountaineering Trip
It was the end of March 2016. Easter weekend.
Five of us – Marie, Nick, Tarryn, Luke and me – headed into the Lake District for a weekend of winter hiking.
Back then, there was still a good amount of snow in the Lake District at the end of March, so winter hiking was very much on the agenda.
It was the first ever City Mountaineering trip but, in a way, City Mountaineering didn’t really exist.
There was no website, no community, no 10-year plan and no idea whether people would actually want to join me on mountain adventures.
There was just a small group of us heading into the mountains for a single weekend.
At the time, I had no idea where that first weekend would lead.
There was, however, a clear idea of what I wanted to create: great mountain adventures, shared with small groups of people who wanted to get away from their everyday lives and spend time in the outdoors.
Ten years later, I found myself back where it all began, hosting City Mountaineering’s 10-year anniversary in the Lake District.
How Adventure Has Changed in 10 Years
A lot has changed in those ten years.
The business has grown. Thousands of people have joined trips. Strangers have become friends. I’ve been lucky enough to share some extraordinary adventures with brilliant people: weekends that became memories, friendships and stories that stayed with people long after the walking boots were put away.
But for the anniversary, I wanted to go back to where it started.
Not just the Lake District, but the idea behind those first trips: getting people away from everyday life and into the mountains together.
Easter arrived in early April this year and the snow had long gone. Winter hiking wasn’t the plan this time.
Instead, we rented one of the most remote hostels in the Lake District for an off-grid celebration. Twenty-eight people joined us for four days of hiking in the Northern Fells, and what a fantastic weekend it was.
“It was amazing to see my 19-year-old transform after three days completely offline. Despite pouring rain and fierce winds that nearly blew us off the mountain, she came back inspired, relaxed, and confident – she even thought the wild weather was “really cool.” Honestly, she wasn’t the only one who came home feeling completely refreshed!”
– Sheena
We followed four different routes over the weekend, each one starting or finishing at the hostel door. The weather gods may not have received the memo, but we made the most of whatever they delivered.
Yet, strangely, it wasn’t the hiking that stood out most from the weekend.
It was what happened when we weren’t connected to the outside world.
Ten years ago, in the early days of City Mountaineering, there was no phone signal and very few pubs or accommodation providers offered Wi-Fi.
How did we cope?
We talked.
I would often be bombarded with questions about my experiences and the life choices that had led me to do what I do now. Every member of every group seemed to engage in open conversations about all sorts of subjects.
I’ve always had one unstated rule though: if conversation turned to politics or work, I’d quickly change the subject. After all, heading into the mountains – or going on any holiday for that matter – should be an escape from everything else going on in the world.
Back then, being disconnected wasn’t something we deliberately chose. It was simply part of being in the mountains, and I think we benefited from it.
Looking up, then looking down
Over the years connectivity in remote and rural places has improved enormously, and what was once a few hours — or even a whole weekend — without a signal is now increasingly rare.
The change has happened slowly, but consistently.
At first everyone was completely immersed in what they were doing. Looking up. Taking photos. Enjoying being there. Living the experience.
Then people naturally wanted to share those experiences with others.
We’d arrive at a pub after a day’s hike and the urgency for a Wi-Fi password was palpable. Photos were uploaded. Messages were sent. The outside world slowly found its way back into the adventure.
And now, of course, connectivity is everywhere.
It’s not just about sharing the experience anymore. People are catching up with what’s happening in the world, checking work emails, responding to messages and following what other people are doing on social media.
There’s nothing inherently wrong with any of that, but I do wonder what we lose when we are constantly connected.
The outside world has gradually found its way into our adventures.
When Being Connected Gets in the Way
Two months before the 10-year anniversary trip, I was guiding on Aconcagua in Argentina.
Aconcagua is remote, vast and demanding: an adventure that requires focus if you are going to reach the summit, and a place that, for most people, will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience.
For many years being disconnected was simply part of the Aconcagua experience.
Now, “progress” has meant there is incredible Wi-Fi connectivity at every camp.
As soon as team members reached camp, they connected.
Heads went down. Phones came out.
The daily briefings became a battle for attention. At one point, after waiting for a response to a direct question, our local guide turned to me and said, “Maybe you should ask them. Let me know what they say.” Ten minutes later, I still hadn’t received an answer. That was how much attention their phones were getting.
This is increasingly common on trips now. Instead of looking up, exploring the environment and living in the moment, people are checking in with what is happening elsewhere in the world.
It made me think about what we’re really looking for when we go on these adventures.
Are we trying to experience something for ourselves, or are we increasingly experiencing it through the eyes of everyone else?
Of course, it’s natural to be interested in what other people are doing, but sometimes I find myself wanting to remind groups that they’re already on their own adventure.
Do we really need to live vicariously through other people’s experiences when we’re in the middle of creating our own?
Has the habit of checking social media become so ingrained that we’ve forgotten how to simply be where we are?
We are here. And that’s enough.
What Happens When We Disconnect?
This brings me back to the 10-year anniversary trip: There was no phone signal.
Well, almost none. There was a moment on Skiddaw when we got phone signal and – you guessed it – heads suddenly disappeared into phones, despite us being at one of the best viewpoints of the weekend.
But for the most part we were disconnected from the outside world, and what a difference it made!
Each evening, the hostel filled with conversation. One group gathered next to the chef – thanks Dave! – another settled by the fireplace and others drifted into what became the ‘chill-out’ lounge.
People moved between conversations. Everyone contributed. Everyone listened.
The subjects ranged from experiences of climbing Everest to new business ideas in Fort William: Spuds and Rubs, anyone?
At times the noise from all those conversations was so much that I had to step outside for some air.
I’d stand outside the hostel with a warm glow.
I’m someone who generally avoids noise and large groups, but I was genuinely happy that I’d brought this group together.
Because the very thing that had driven me outside — the noise, laughter and constant conversation — was exactly what I want City Mountaineering to encourage.
Ten years of shared experiences
Ten years ago, I set out to create great mountain adventures. I didn’t necessarily set out to create a community, but somewhere along the way the people became just as important as the mountains.
Over those ten years I’ve watched people arrive as strangers and leave as friends. I’ve seen people challenge themselves, discover new places, share experiences and, occasionally, discover things about themselves that they didn’t expect.
And that’s what the anniversary weekend reminded me of.
Face-to-face conversation. Laughter. Camaraderie. Shared experiences.
These things come from being together and living an experience. They don’t come from constantly checking our phones to see what everyone else is doing.
I loved the 10-year anniversary trip not only because I was able to share such an important landmark with lots of people who, over the years, have become friends, but because it reaffirmed something I’ve come to believe more strongly with every year of City Mountaineering:
City Mountaineering connects people
“I loved it. Earlier that week, my phone wouldn’t stop pinging and I was ready to throw it out the window. But once the constant notifications stopped, everyone naturally opened up. Our conversations shifted from superficial small talk to actually connecting and getting to know each other on a deeper level”
– Richa
People from different backgrounds, with different lives, different experiences and different stories, come together through a shared desire to enjoy the outdoors.
It doesn’t matter where we’re from.
It doesn’t matter what other people are doing.
What matters is where we are right now, the people around us, and the experience we’re sharing together.
Ten years ago, being disconnected was simply a consequence of going into the mountains.
Perhaps, in a world where we are connected to everything all the time, that is something we should value a little more. Sometimes the best way to connect with the world around us is to disconnect from everything else.
A shared adventure is a better adventure
