#THISISMYADVENTURE - How the Mountains Changed My Life – Harrison Ward aka Fell Foodie
I feel at home in the mountains these days, my happy place. Being born and bred in Cumbria, I’ve never been too far away from the fells but it was only in recent years I have actually enjoyed the views from the summit. Prior to 2016 I hadn’t hiked up any hills, I didn’t even spend much time outdoors. Life was very different for me.
Picture credit: @danieljtoal
Despite enjoying a happy, active childhood, close to the border of Scotland, I found a debilitating mental illness plaguing me from the moment I began puberty. Self-loathing views, constant demotivation and insecurity became regular and in its worst moments, I could think of nothing but ending my life. I didn’t know this at the time but I had developed a crippling, clinical depression.
I hid this from family and friends, only in my solitude would I let my mask slip, battling relentless derogatory feelings considering an escape, there only seemed to be one solution.
At 18, I discovered a different escape in the form of alcohol whilst working behind a bar. It would sedate my mind and silence the damaging thoughts allowing me to feel free from the black dog. I saw it as a medicine and began consuming regularly to excess. Initially, like all of us at a young age, my tolerance was low but with repeated exposure this grew and grew. By the time I attended University I was happily knocking back 15 pints in a session on a close to daily dose. It soon became my priority in my new home of York, there was a far more accessible nightlife here than back in Cumbria. I was fooling myself into thinking I was just being sociable, avoiding being alone in a room. In reality depression had introduced alcohol to be medicinally but it had become my poison. By the end of my first term I was drinking 20 pints daily, had taken up smoking full time and piled on around 7 stone, topping the scales at 22 stone!
Alcohol was now as big a part of my life as breathing, it clashed with darker thoughts for dominance in my mind from the minute I woke up. It was a destructive cycle. Booze would sooth concepts of my own demise but cause them to return far stronger as the drug wore off during slumber. I was firmly under its spell, more jobs in the hospitality trade followed, no doubt due to easy access and ability to live a life so controlled by alcohol. I would brush my teeth with the stuff at this point, regularly drink at work and spend every free moment wandering from bar to bar under the illusion of being “social”.
On my 21st Birthday, this secret battle with depression became public. After a particularly heavy 5 day session with close friends who had come to visit, I was about to be alone in the city once again. In the early hours I made a call to my mum via a payphone. Breaking down on the phone, I told her goodbye as I planned to commit suicide with the train tracks of York being my chosen method. My secret was revealed and although I don’t recall a lot of the conversation, if I am honest, this was my cry for help.
I temporarily returned to Cumbria, spoke with family, the doctor and friends. This should have been the turning point. But I didn’t accept that there was any other way of escaping this illness, I was managing my darkness the best I could by means of liquid sedation.
Picture credit: @danieljtoal
It took another 4 years of drinking to oblivion, during which I surprisingly, given my lifestyle, found a girlfriend. She made me so happy and absent minded to my depression when I was with her however, I was already in a relationship, with alcohol. She was someone I did not deserve, who saw past the faults but did not see the full extent of my double-life. It was largely hidden, we worked different hours and lived separately, I’m ashamed to say liquid came first. After around 15 months, I was exposed when I acted unfaithfully in a bar greatly inebriated. Deservedly it was the final straw but it was only at this moment, when I was discovered to have become someone I did not believe myself to be, that I accepted that I had become an alcoholic.
After a brief week at my Auntie’s outside York, I made the decision to leave this destructive life I had carved. I left the city I had lived in for the past 7 years overnight, my job, my flat, friends were also left behind and I vowed to remove alcohol and cigarettes too. I returned to Cumbria and threw myself into fitness, first cycling, then the gym and then I was convinced to go for a run. I couldn’t run a bath before and in the throes of substance withdrawal and still overweight it was little more than a jog.
A fortnight later, my friend Ryan arrived on my doorstep with the intention of taking me on a walk. I got changed into all I had at the time; a pair of swim shorts, a jumper from Next and donned my Lonsdale trainers. He took one look at me, shook his head and stopped at an outdoor shop on the way to the Lake District. I didn’t even own any walking boots and was penniless but in a moment of unforgettable kindness, he bought me a pair. We arrived at the car park and this ‘walk’ I had been convinced to go on was a hike up Blencathra via Hall’s Fell Ridge! A slow and demanding vertical plod commenced, I was determined not to give up in spite the fact my mental and physical fitness wasn’t up to scratch. Eventually the trig circle was reached. Before I could catch a breath, a barely gasping Ryan said, “Helvellyn next.”
I don’t recall my response but a week later the scenario was the same. We parked the car near Thirlmere and began tackling what looked like an endless path to the top of Helvellyn. It was an untypical Cumbrian day, pure blue skies and red hot sunshine but I could only stare at my feet as I trudged to the top. Upon bagging the summit, I looked out to the East, across Striding Edge with Red Tarn below. There were views for miles and in the summer sun I knew a new addiction had been ignited. The sense of achievement, the physical struggle and subsequent view (when Cumbrian weather gods permit) really sparked something in me. I could relate to the challenge of hiking a mountain, it felt like a material manifestation of the battle I was having in my personal life and with my mind.
Scafell Pike followed next the week after as did many other Lakeland fells. By the turn of the year Snowdon, Crib Goch and Ben Nevis were also bagged. Hiking boots were now interchangeable with trail trainers as slow walks developed into technical runs. Eleven months on from the day I vowed to change my life, I stood at the start line of the Brathay Marathon. 26 miles replaced 26 pints as I went from lethargy to endurance runner. It felt like redemption.
Now nearly 4 years on, the outdoors remains a key component of my recovery and life going forward. I still reside in the Lake District and have ticked off half the Wainwrights now with plans to complete them by October 2020 (my 30th Birthday!). I have discovered new adventures and experiences outside, frequently wildcamping in the mountains I’ve hiked including the highest two mountains in the Australian Kosciusko national park. My childhood passion for cooking has been merged with my new vice. I now often take a camping stove into the hills with me and replicate restaurant style meals in remote locations on minimal equipment. Anything from pasta dishes to casseroles, risottos to stirfrys, fish or meat dishes have been knocked up on the hilltop.
June 6th this year will mark 4 years sober for me. 4 years since my life changed for the better. I have become the man I always wanted to be; healthier in mind, 6 stone lighter and smoke free. The combination of fitness in nature has been instrumental in turning my life around and battling the darkness that so often stunted me. The mountains have truly changed my life.
You can read more about Harrison’s adventures and mental health journey as well as seeing some of the dishes he produces in the outdoors on his social media channels @fellfoodie