Facing oblivion, you learn a lot about yourself. You don’t want to trust yourself; you need someone better than yourself. But with no ropes, no harness and no stretch in your jeans, there’s not much there but you.

There I was, fifty-ish feet up with the Scottish air breezing in off the North Sea. I found a convenient spot to wedge my knee, rest my hips and look out. Before me I saw sparkling waters and a stampede in the stratosphere. I soaked it all in and was soon ready to move on.

Looking upward, all I could see was beach grass and soil. Bad news. The vegetation made it hard to find good hand holds, and it was safe to assume that the rock wasn’t safe; plant roots break up rocks, making it brittle. With a heavy sight I looked down, all fifty feet of rock face. Suddenly I remembered a famous mountaineering quote:

“The summit is optional. The descent is mandatory.”