There I stood, a solitary and susceptible figure surveying the innumerable layers of abstracted peaks - the surviving pillars of stability standing strong against a terrene brutally dominated by mankind. Boundless prospects beckoned before me as I gazed bewitched across a landscape interminably altered by glaciation. Expansive fathomless valleys tore savagely through the scene as the shadowing silhouettes of abundant behemoths lacerated the crystal clear sky, and snowfields hung - glistening delicately in the early morning sunshine. I felt tranquil here, and a wave of belonging rippled silently through my senses.

For us the mountains offer an experience so liberating and prodigious that it cannot be named. When we try and describe it, we find only that it cannot be described. The fundamental concept of this principle is something that we can barely scratch the surface of, let alone begin to comprehend. It's about the feeling of pushing yourself forward, and driving on where others may falter. It's about the exploration of unity and yourself, and of the challenges that both present. It's about the feel of the wind in your hair, and the glide of the snow under your skis. Leaving the known and entering the realms of the offbeat; the intimidating and the exhilirating. The mountains are about more than what just the neoteric world can provide us. While standing on that remote mountain top things become clear, because when reduced to its essence it's about one thing: freedom.