Have you ever stood and looked at the horizon and wondered what’s on the other side? Back in 2014 that was me; sat in the Spanish town of Barbastro peering at the snowy peaks of the Pyrenees in the hazy distance. I had just read a war novel and was now picturing myself as a soldier in Napoleon’s army marching over the border into Spain. How must it feel to pick a point on the horizon and just head towards it?
I pondered on this for a while; fixating on a particular mountain (which turned out to be Mount Perdido by the way). Questions came up in my mind and the longer I stared the more I felt my curiousity grow. Could I walk there? Should I bother? As the possibility of an adventure became a little more real, doubts floated into my mind however these were met by a tingling of excitement bubbling up from my stomach. As this happened the questions changed from “Can I do it?” to “How would I do it?” and the corners of my mouth twitched a bit, My stern thinking face turned into my “Dave is up to something” face; this face comes with a cheeky grin and a twinkle in the eye. The prospect of an adventure had given me a certain energy and now I wanted to share it. First with my wife and then with our Spanish friend who enthusiastically responded with a “Si! Totally doable!” Before I knew it, he had cleared the table, flattened out maps and was circling abandoned villages and the best trails to take. His enthusiastic endorsement had given me the final push I needed to make it official and mentally sign up. Don’t get me wrong - I still had my worries, but these were now outweighed by my excitement and the desire to know if my wife and I could actually reach that snowy mountain on the horizon.
To me, that horizon represented a spirit of adventure that I hadn’t seen in a while. It represented having the bravery to take that first step into a remote wilderness and go beyond what was known and comfortable for us. At times on the walk, it was painful and very uncomfortable, but at others, it was serene and possibly the most free I’ve ever felt. With just our bags on our back we were self-sufficient and rarely saw anyone else for days. The occasional thunderstorm and getting lost was definite Type 2 fun, but those shared experiences made us tougher and brought us much closer together. Despite the challenges, the seven days it took us are still some one of my fondest memories.
I named the company Horizon Line as I want all our trips to conjure up the same feelings I had when trekking in those mountains. The butterflies and excitement beforehand, the Type 2 fun, the forgetting of aching muscles as you laugh about the ridiculous, the pride and growth that comes with challenging oneself and the humility of seeing Mother Nature at her grandest and most beautiful.
It’s a big ask from a trek, but I feel the Great Outdoors has a special way of doing all of this and more which I'm passionate for others to experience too.