For those of you who prefer to read on paper (or e-reader) rather than in your Substack or email app, I have converted this essay into an easily printable PDF.
Most of us have a period in our lives that becomes the foundation of who we will become. For me that was the short span of three years (but it felt longer) when I lived and worked at the Clachaig Inn in Glen Coe.
I’ve been meaning to write a book about that time for years. So why now? Well, a few people have asked me lately when my Clachaig book is going to get written. Also, as I pick up the thread of my prewriting notes for my sequel to The Farthest Shore, I realise that there’s a much bigger story to be told here. What I want to communicate will no longer fit comfortably in a single book. So that’s two sequels.
But before I start writing stuff set in 2019 onwards, wouldn’t it make more sense to go back to the source? And just like that, one sequel has become two sequels and a prequel – but I’m planning them simultaneously, building in themes that will be developed through all three books.
This is not going to be pure memoir. Through these books I want to present my unified theory of purpose in adventure. And it’s going to get a bit metaphysical.
As part of my planning, I need to re-read old journals in order to research who I was back then. Because no story truly begins or ends, I’ve had to pick an arbitrary starting point. So I’ve dived in at January 1st, 2006. This is at least two years before any of the events I plan to write about, but context is important if I’m to understand the character of Alex in his madcap climber era.
Fortunately, I was a prolific diarist back then, and wrote nearly 60,000 words in my journal in 2006 alone. So this is going to take some time, but I have a reach seam of resources in which to dig.
Reading some of this stuff has made me cringe, though. I’d like to sincerely apologise to anyone who interacted with 20-year-old Alex online. But herein lies a trap. One of my key challenges with this project will be to treat this character objectively and with compassion; he was very young and had a head stuffed with alpenglow and starlight, and there are worse things to be. My visit to Glen Coe earlier in the summer underlined that it’s been a long time now since I lived there… maybe long enough that I can look back on it dispassionately and see young Alex as just another character in another story.
From my desk
Working on right now
Sidetracked Volume 34. I’ve finished proofing the final PDFs and it’ll be going to print shortly. This is an absolute humdinger of an issue, with one of the strongest and most cohesive line-ups of stories we’ve had for a while. Look out for the cover reveal once I’ve written the blurb. I particularly love the foreword, written for us by Sam Rice. A quote:
What endures when the adventure ends? Not the GPX files or perfect singletrack. What remains are the questions we couldn’t answer and the people who changed us in trying.
Like the Wind issue #47. We’re mid-cycle on this issue now and many of the stories are in place. I’m particularly excited about some of the visual pieces in this one.
In addition to the non-fiction writing mentioned above, I’ve done some solid prewriting work on Brightened Earth, my sci-fi novel.
Steadily working through my negative scanning from the Alps. A handful of rolls still to go. It’s tempting to say this reveals a fatal flaw in film photography, at least if you scan yourself – that you’ll spend weeks digitising the negatives. But honestly, if I’d used a digital camera I’d be spending just as long editing the raw files, so it all comes out in the wash.
I’ve been getting back into writing longhand letters to family and friends. If you haven’t written a letter recently, I recommend it – it’s a significantly richer form of communication than a WhatsApp message or email.
Recently published
🥾 The Great Outdoors, November 2025 issue
The new issue contains several bits and pieces from me. The latest instalment of my ongoing work with the Austrian Alpine Club (UK) can be found in the skills section, where I fight skill fade by going on a traditional navigation course in North Wales. I review some mid-layers, go walking on the South Downs, and also supply some photographs for the wonderful story ‘Not all who wander are lost (but some really are)’ by Norman Hadley.
Looking beyond my contributions, this is another really cracking issue – I’ve particularly enjoyed both October and November this year. It’s great to see the big feature on art and the outdoors this time (‘Framing the view’). If you haven’t picked up a copy of TGO lately, this is a good place to start.
Upcoming
📸 Talk at Eleven41 gallery, Kingussie, October 2025
I don’t have a confirmed date yet, but I’m chatting with Ed about putting on a talk at Eleven41 to conclude our Analogue11 exhibition. It will likely be on or around October 24th. I’ll let you know when this is firmed up.
🥾 Outdoor Connections industry summit, Kendal, November 20th, 2025
Outdoor Connections is a new B2B industry summit taking place just before Kendal Mountain Festival. With the tagline ‘Forging New Perspectives in Storytelling’, it’s a one-day event promising to bring together a wide range of industry leaders, creatives, storytellers, and brand managers in the outdoor industry. We’re promised ‘bold ideas, real conversations, and connections that spark lasting impact’.
What does all this have to do with me, the guy who usually works alone with his books and his piles of paper in his study somewhere in rural Scotland? Well, I’ve been asked to participate in the ‘Slop or substance?’ section, where I’ll be debating AI and its impact on creative fields. It promises to be a lively discussion. My position, dear reader, will be that AI is primarily a device for suppressing wages rather than increasing productivity – and that long term it will cause serious damage.
Passes aren’t cheap by any means, but they do include a festival pass as well.
🏃🏻♂️ RUN AGAIN premiere, London, November 20th, 2025
Like the Wind magazine will be hosting the UK premiere of Alexis Berg’s new film RUN AGAIN, featuring Dave Pen on the Spine Race. Location: Vue Cinema, Leicester Square, London. Limited tickets are available here.
Unfortunately this clashes with Outdoor Connections, otherwise I’d be there.
Recently processed film images
Three frames from Chamonix at the start of September. All shot on my Leica M3; mixture of Kodak Double-X and Kentmere Pan 400 @ 800.
Art
A sketch from a stravaig up Glen Vale in the Lomond Hills, Fife. This is the view to John Knox’s Pulpit, a curious rock tor complete with cave, from the waterfall gorge.
What I’ve been reading
Books
🏰 Titus Groan, Mervyn Peak
I picked up a copy of the Gormenghast trilogy the other weekend. I feel like I’ve been orbiting around these books all my life without ever having read them; so many other books I love can trace at least some of their inspiration back to the spires and turrets of Gormenghast.
I’m currently about halfway through the first book, Titus Groan, and… oh my. I wish I’d read this book as a child. It would have made as striking an impression on me as The Hobbit, A Wizard of Earthsea, Foundation, or Mythago Wood. Even now, I find myself completely absorbed in a way no other book has absorbed me for many years. The description is so emotionally rich that I feel viscerally transported to the setting. I can see, feel, hear and touch the castle as I turn the pages, and I don’t mean that in a metaphorical or poetic sense – it’s almost hallucinatory.
Maybe some people get this with every book? I don’t. At least I haven’t as an adult. Here is a passage that particularly leapt out at me. The writing style won’t be for everyone, but it’s just so rich and luxurious. On the downside, there are typos in this edition.
Magazines
Issue Two has arrived. I’m glad to see New Mountain Magazine going strong. And that’s a 35mm film photograph on the front cover, too…
From the web
🏔️ The gift economy of climbing
Paraphrasing the comment I left on this piece by , as a man it’s striking to read how nurturing and supportive this world can be for women climbers. In my own early years as a climber I definitely benefited from the generosity of more experienced climbers, often male, but that whole scene also suffered from an exhausting level of one-upmanship and testosterone. Something I neglected to add in my comment is that I often preferred climbing with women partly for this reason. I’m still good friends with some of them (in fact, Isi and I are planning a mountain trip next month).
The funny thing is, when you start thinking of knowledge, experiences and things as a collective, and you reframe them as gifts, suddenly you’re in a veritable melting pot. A melange, if you will. Awash with the richness of it all.
🌄 J.R.R. Tolkien’s Art Nouveau Elvenlands
This short piece articulates something that is obvious when you read Tolkien’s work, but important to think about nevertheless – and has all kinds of implications for today’s world. The art we make reflects the values of the time in which it emerges. Not just the values in the mainstream but those in the hopeful countercultural edgelands. Art Nouveau emerged as a reaction against the dehumanising speed and scale of the machine, as did Luddism, Romanticism, and Arts and Crafts. We need this cultural counterweight today.
One of the most important aspects of Tolkien’s writing is his environmentalism, his belief that we clumsy humans, who scare away hobbits with our loud footsteps, need nature: We need forests and streams and mountains. His artistic style is an expression of that philosophy, which seems more relevant today than ever. In a world where machines seem to be taking over, we long for Rivendell and Lothlorien. Tolkien’s art offers us not only an escape from modernity but a possible reformulation of it. It tells us that in our busy modern lives, we need to make space for trees and flowers, art and the imagination.
This outlines the greatest and most dangerous trap of AI – something that I don’t see expressed often enough. As I read this, I’m forced to wonder if future generations will be capable of creating something like Gormenghast, or if their minds will be too dulled and simplified. This is about so much more than the economy.
The problem of the next 18 months isn’t AI disemploying all workers, or students losing competition after competition to nonhuman agents. The problem is whether we will degrade our own capabilities in the presence of new machines. We are so fixated on how technology will outskill us that we miss the many ways that we can deskill ourselves.
Students, scientists, and anyone else who lets AI do the writing for them will find their screens full of words and their minds emptied of thought.
Related: The dawn of the post-literate society (a few problems with this piece, but many of the points made are valid)
🤖 Substack is a social media app
Good of them to finally come out and say it. Enshittification has come to Substack more quickly than I hoped it would. I’m disappointed in this but not surprised; the economic reality of Substack is that they need to optimise for growth, volume, and engagement. Yes their economic model is less obnoxious than that of Facebook, Instagram or X, but it’s clear that Substack is never going back to what it once was.
I only ever wanted a newsletter/blog-publishing platform, and chose Substack because it offered the chance of finding a broader audience than alternatives. But growth and engagement at all costs do not interest me. There’s a balance to be struck, and I’m not convinced Substack’s new balance is the right one for me any more. I’m not saying the path they’ve chosen is bad; I’m just saying that they will leave behind some of their earliest supporters in the quest for mainstream mass participation.
Two more interesting takes (ironically enough on Notes, which – yes – is 100% social media):
From :
From :
🌄 The Great Fusion of All Things
A surreal, haunting, and beautiful short story from .
Sometimes, when the light is just so, and the world aligns itself, and your mood is open, and your hand is empty, great truths will reveal themselves. Sometimes, when the lake reflects the sky so they become one, and the horizon is within arms reach, the theatre of culture and history and identity evaporate and the masks we wear blow away like dandelion fruit in the wind and great truths reveal themselves.
That’s all, folks
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Header image © Isi Oakley; all other images and words © Alex Roddie. No AI has been used in the creation of any work on this page. All Rights Reserved. Please don’t reproduce this material without permission.
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