At a remote bothy deep in the Scottish Highlands, I meet a remarkable character on a lifelong quest – perhaps someone everyone in the world of adventure can learn from.
A lovely read and listen Alex. I like the sense of personal conflict that's often present in what you write. Being part of the "outdoor industry" to some degree and a world of brands and commercialism that sits uncomfortably with you. Or so it seems to me as a reader. Much outdoor writing feels like the writer is only doing it for something to write about but not here. I'm conflicted about Kevin. Whilst it's a fascinating insight into a unique life I wonder if he'd best been left as an encounter in your own mind to wonder of now and again? Ironically the world of commercialism and content met the world of just being in your encounter with Kevin. It's an unequal equation. No doubt Kevin has a back story, relatives and a long life journey behind him. Such encounters are priceless but his way of life must be so fragile and his quiet anonymity an asset to his travels. It's a little sad to see him caged as content on the internet and potentially vulnerable as a result. I don't know but that's how I felt reading of him.
Thanks for your reply, Andy, and I completely agree about a sense of personal conflict – I feel this keenly. And I understand what you mean about the encounter with 'Kevin', which is why a) I made sure he consented entirely with what I planned to do (an online piece but nothing in print), b) used a fake name (he's not really called Kevin), and c) waited a full year before posting. Totally on board with what you say about a fragile way of life depending on anonymity. It's my hope he's well away and in a different part of Scotland now, adding his red crosses to a different OS map!
...but I should add that I do recognise what you say, that in a sense Kevin's reality is diminished by writing about it and therefore trapping him within the confines of an internet-mediated reality. It's no exaggeration to say that I tussled with this conflict for months before making the decision to eventually post, as I thought the message had the potential to do a greater good. No right or wrong answer, though.
"that in a sense Kevin's reality is diminished by writing about it and therefore trapping him within the confines of an internet-mediated reality" Yes, you've summed up the conflict perfectly. That's the feeling I got when reading the piece. At the same time I wanted to know all about him and was fascinated by his life. An uneasy read for me coming from pre internet times when people mostly did what they did and no one was interested or even wanted to know. Now we have to know everything all the time and it can all feel worthless. However, I'm glad of this read and the thoughts/feelings it has evoked and agree that there is no right or wrong answer. There is a simpler way of doing things, with less ego, gear and perhaps more satisfaction. That's eluded to in Kevin's frugal gear. sleeping arrangements and quiet approach. I can only hope he improves his diet :-)
This was lovely, Alex. I understand why you tussled with sharing it and waited so long, but I think you've respected 'Kevin's' wishes and anonymity well. I've been having chats with myself about the real reason why I do things since I first got social media, and it's not always been a good or comfortable answer. I feel like I'm in a much better place with it now but to strike that balance there's a whole load of things I get up to that never make it past the pages of my paper journal. Kevin is living life truly free, an act of rebellion made stronger by the fact that his decisions have little to do with social media in any direction. To Kevin. I hope he completes his quest, stays safe and enjoys himself along the way.
Lovely piece Alex! Kevin's approach made me question how often we do things because we feel an obligation to appease readers or "create content". In some ways doing something and not telling anyone, or having no purpose can feel like a radical act as an outdoors writer.
"In some ways doing something and not telling anyone, or having no purpose can feel like a radical act as an outdoors writer." – This is it exactly. Have you read the book _How to Do Nothing_ by Jenny Odell? Absolutely key read on this topic!
Nice Alex, what a great story. Doing things for ourselves and not telling anyone about them is perhaps a perfect way of reclaiming power over the things we love doing. A radical act in these days of over sharing. I’m feeling less and less inclined to share lately, but when it’s part of your work it’s a tricky balance to strike. Cheers!
Love this Alex. I've been in France for two months living in the sticks in Normandy and tbh there's been zero impetus to share that much other than what I regularly post on here. What I've found really strange and concerning is how ... discombobulating I seem to have found that. What, I can just live my weird little life without constantly mining it for content? It would appear so. The internet really has completely scrambled my brain, so I absolutely recognise what you describe here, and how weirdly unsettling a realisation it is.
Yup! I think we all owe it to ourselves to put ourselves in this scenario from time to time. It's a much-needed reset. I feel the urge far less than I used to (leaving Instagram was such a good move for me) but the Substack algorithm, gentler though it is, does massage the same part of the brain in its own way...
This was wonderful to read, I really felt like I was in the bothy with you. For me it raises questions about what's more authentic– documenting everything, for ourselves, for others, or just living it? Can we do both? How do we know anymore what we're doing for ourselves and what part of that, however small, is performative? It's refreshing to hear of people who are purely at one end of the scale like Kevin, who I think we all aspire to be in some way but find ourselves trapped in the cage of relevancy created by the internet. At least that's where I find myself. Very thought-provoking read in any case and look forward to more
A lovely read and listen Alex. I like the sense of personal conflict that's often present in what you write. Being part of the "outdoor industry" to some degree and a world of brands and commercialism that sits uncomfortably with you. Or so it seems to me as a reader. Much outdoor writing feels like the writer is only doing it for something to write about but not here. I'm conflicted about Kevin. Whilst it's a fascinating insight into a unique life I wonder if he'd best been left as an encounter in your own mind to wonder of now and again? Ironically the world of commercialism and content met the world of just being in your encounter with Kevin. It's an unequal equation. No doubt Kevin has a back story, relatives and a long life journey behind him. Such encounters are priceless but his way of life must be so fragile and his quiet anonymity an asset to his travels. It's a little sad to see him caged as content on the internet and potentially vulnerable as a result. I don't know but that's how I felt reading of him.
Thanks for your reply, Andy, and I completely agree about a sense of personal conflict – I feel this keenly. And I understand what you mean about the encounter with 'Kevin', which is why a) I made sure he consented entirely with what I planned to do (an online piece but nothing in print), b) used a fake name (he's not really called Kevin), and c) waited a full year before posting. Totally on board with what you say about a fragile way of life depending on anonymity. It's my hope he's well away and in a different part of Scotland now, adding his red crosses to a different OS map!
...but I should add that I do recognise what you say, that in a sense Kevin's reality is diminished by writing about it and therefore trapping him within the confines of an internet-mediated reality. It's no exaggeration to say that I tussled with this conflict for months before making the decision to eventually post, as I thought the message had the potential to do a greater good. No right or wrong answer, though.
"that in a sense Kevin's reality is diminished by writing about it and therefore trapping him within the confines of an internet-mediated reality" Yes, you've summed up the conflict perfectly. That's the feeling I got when reading the piece. At the same time I wanted to know all about him and was fascinated by his life. An uneasy read for me coming from pre internet times when people mostly did what they did and no one was interested or even wanted to know. Now we have to know everything all the time and it can all feel worthless. However, I'm glad of this read and the thoughts/feelings it has evoked and agree that there is no right or wrong answer. There is a simpler way of doing things, with less ego, gear and perhaps more satisfaction. That's eluded to in Kevin's frugal gear. sleeping arrangements and quiet approach. I can only hope he improves his diet :-)
This was lovely, Alex. I understand why you tussled with sharing it and waited so long, but I think you've respected 'Kevin's' wishes and anonymity well. I've been having chats with myself about the real reason why I do things since I first got social media, and it's not always been a good or comfortable answer. I feel like I'm in a much better place with it now but to strike that balance there's a whole load of things I get up to that never make it past the pages of my paper journal. Kevin is living life truly free, an act of rebellion made stronger by the fact that his decisions have little to do with social media in any direction. To Kevin. I hope he completes his quest, stays safe and enjoys himself along the way.
Thanks Kate! And I live in hope that one day I'll bump into him again... heading out west this weekend, so who knows?
What a refreshing post. Here's to all the Kevins in the world 🥃
Lovely piece Alex! Kevin's approach made me question how often we do things because we feel an obligation to appease readers or "create content". In some ways doing something and not telling anyone, or having no purpose can feel like a radical act as an outdoors writer.
"In some ways doing something and not telling anyone, or having no purpose can feel like a radical act as an outdoors writer." – This is it exactly. Have you read the book _How to Do Nothing_ by Jenny Odell? Absolutely key read on this topic!
Haven't read it yet, will check it out!
Nice Alex, what a great story. Doing things for ourselves and not telling anyone about them is perhaps a perfect way of reclaiming power over the things we love doing. A radical act in these days of over sharing. I’m feeling less and less inclined to share lately, but when it’s part of your work it’s a tricky balance to strike. Cheers!
Thanks and I agree about the balance!
Love this Alex. I've been in France for two months living in the sticks in Normandy and tbh there's been zero impetus to share that much other than what I regularly post on here. What I've found really strange and concerning is how ... discombobulating I seem to have found that. What, I can just live my weird little life without constantly mining it for content? It would appear so. The internet really has completely scrambled my brain, so I absolutely recognise what you describe here, and how weirdly unsettling a realisation it is.
Yup! I think we all owe it to ourselves to put ourselves in this scenario from time to time. It's a much-needed reset. I feel the urge far less than I used to (leaving Instagram was such a good move for me) but the Substack algorithm, gentler though it is, does massage the same part of the brain in its own way...
Such a beautiful piece Alex. Thank you for sharing it!
This was wonderful to read, I really felt like I was in the bothy with you. For me it raises questions about what's more authentic– documenting everything, for ourselves, for others, or just living it? Can we do both? How do we know anymore what we're doing for ourselves and what part of that, however small, is performative? It's refreshing to hear of people who are purely at one end of the scale like Kevin, who I think we all aspire to be in some way but find ourselves trapped in the cage of relevancy created by the internet. At least that's where I find myself. Very thought-provoking read in any case and look forward to more