Polly Tallis - Rooted in the Wilds

(Shortened by Quillic)

Chapter 1: Edinburgh Beginnings

I came into this world on a blustery autumn day in 1971, born to the historic streets of Edinburgh. My earliest memories are a patchwork of grey stone buildings, the distant call of seagulls, and the comforting warmth of my mother's embrace. But it was the green spaces of the city - the sprawling Holyrood Park, the tranquil Royal Botanic Garden - that truly captured my young imagination.

My parents, both lecturers at the University of Edinburgh, instilled in me a love for learning from an early age. Our home was filled with books on every subject imaginable, and dinner conversations often turned into impromptu lectures on history, literature, or science. But it was my grandfather, a retired forester, who planted the seeds of what would become my life's passion.

Every summer, we'd visit Grandad in his small cottage near Aviemore in the Cairngorms. Those weeks were a revelation to my young self. The vast expanses of pine forests, the crystal-clear lochs, the rugged mountains touching the sky - it was a world away from the urban landscape of Edinburgh, and I fell in love with it instantly.

Grandad would take me on long walks through the woods, teaching me the names of trees, plants, and wildlife. He showed me how to read the forest, to understand its rhythms and cycles. "The forest is a living thing, Polly," he'd say, his eyes twinkling. "It's got stories to tell, if you learn how to listen."

Back in Edinburgh, I'd dream of those wild places. I'd pore over maps of the Highlands, imagining myself exploring every glen and climbing every munro. My bedroom walls were covered with posters of Scottish landscapes, and I'd fall asleep to the imagined sound of wind rustling through pine needles.

School was a mixed bag for me. I did well enough in most subjects, but it was in biology and geography that I truly shone. My teachers often remarked on my unusual knowledge of Scottish flora and fauna, not realising it was all thanks to my summers with Grandad.

It was during these school years that I discovered my other great passion: rock music. I remember the first time I heard Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer" on the radio. The energy, the emotion, the sheer power of the music - it was electrifying. I begged my parents for a guitar and spent countless hours trying to master those iconic riffs.

Queen became another obsession. Freddie Mercury's voice and the band's theatrical style captivated me. Their music became the soundtrack to my teenage years, providing comfort during the turbulent times and amplifying the joyous ones.

As I approached the end of my school years, the question of what to do next loomed large. My parents, naturally, hoped I'd follow in their academic footsteps. But I knew, deep in my heart, that my path lay elsewhere. The call of the wild was too strong to ignore.

The day I announced my intention to study Forestry at the University of Aberdeen, I saw a mix of emotions cross my parents' faces - surprise, concern, and then, gradually, pride. They may not have understood my choice, but they supported it wholeheartedly.

And so, in the autumn of 1989, with a head full of dreams and a heart full of determination, I set off for Aberdeen, ready to embark on the adventure that would shape the rest of my life.

Chapter 2: Rooted in the Wild

My years at the University of Aberdeen were transformative. The Forestry programme was everything I'd hoped for and more. I threw myself into my studies with a passion that surprised even me. From silviculture to forest ecology, from timber technologies to conservation strategies - every aspect fascinated me.

But it wasn't just the academic side of university life that shaped me. It was here that I truly came into my own. I joined the university's Mountaineering Club, and suddenly, my childhood dreams of climbing every munro in Scotland didn't seem so far-fetched. Weekends were spent in the Cairngorms or the Trossachs, learning the skills that would serve me well in my future career and personal adventures.

It was also at university that I bought my first motorcycle - a beat-up old Suzuki that I lovingly restored with the help of some engineering students. The feeling of freedom as I rode through the Scottish countryside was intoxicating. Little did I know then how important motorcycling would become in my life.

My summer internships took me to various parts of the Highlands, working on different forestry projects. Each experience reinforced my conviction that this was what I wanted to do with my life. The challenges were many - long days of physical labour, battling midges and unpredictable weather - but the rewards were immeasurable. There's a unique satisfaction in planting a tree, knowing it will outlive you, providing habitat for wildlife and helping to combat climate change.

After graduating with honours in 1993, I was fortunate enough to secure a position with the Forestry Commission in the heart of the Highlands. It was a dream come true - I was going to be paid to do what I loved most, in some of the most beautiful landscapes in the world.

The early years of my career were a whirlwind of activity. I was involved in everything from reforestation projects to wildlife management, from trail maintenance to community outreach programmes. Every day brought new challenges and new learning opportunities. I loved the variety, the physicality of the work, and most of all, the feeling that I was making a tangible difference to the environment.

It wasn't always easy. Forestry management often involves balancing competing interests - conservation vs. commercial forestry, public access vs. wildlife protection. There were tough decisions to be made, and not everyone would always be happy with the outcomes. But I learned to navigate these challenges with diplomacy and a firm commitment to what was best for the long-term health of the forest.

Throughout these years, I never lost my passion for rock music or motorcycling. My trusty Suzuki was upgraded to a more powerful BMW, perfect for exploring the winding roads of the Highlands. Many a weekend was spent on epic rides, the stunning scenery rushing by as Bon Jovi or Queen blasted through my helmet speakers. The North Coast 500 became a yearly pilgrimage, a chance to reconnect with the raw beauty of Scotland's northern coastline.

As for my munro-bagging ambitions, I tackled them with the same determination I brought to my work. Every free moment was an opportunity to bag another peak. There's something indescribably special about standing on a munro summit, the world spread out beneath you, the wind in your hair, feeling simultaneously tiny and invincible.

Life was good. I was doing work I loved in a place I adored. I had my music, my motorcycle, and my mountains. I thought I had it all figured out.

But life, as it often does, had other plans.

Chapter 3: Unexpected Turns

In the summer of 2006, my life took an unexpected turn. I met James, a wildlife photographer, during a conservation project in Glen Affric. There was an immediate connection - a shared love for the wild, a similar sense of humour, and a passion for making a difference. Our whirlwind romance was set against the backdrop of some of Scotland's most stunning scenery.

Within a year, we were married in a small ceremony by the shores of Loch Ness. I felt like I was living in a fairy tale - I had my dream job, a husband who shared my passions, and a life immersed in the wilderness I loved.

When I found out I was pregnant in early 2007, it felt like the perfect next chapter. Olivia was born on a crisp autumn day, and from the moment I held her in my arms, I knew my life had changed forever. I was determined to instil in her the same love for nature that had shaped my life.

However, the reality of balancing motherhood with my demanding career proved challenging. The long hours and physical nature of my work were difficult to manage with a young baby. James and I tried to make it work, but the strain began to show in our relationship.

By the time Olivia was two, James and I had to face the painful truth that our marriage wasn't working. The divorce was amicable, but it left me feeling lost and uncertain for the first time in my adult life. I was now a single mother, trying to navigate a career I loved and raise a daughter on my own.

It was during this difficult period that my love for the forest truly saved me. The peace I found among the trees, the simple act of watching new growth emerge from the soil, reminded me of life's resilience. I threw myself into my work with renewed vigour, finding strength in the very landscapes I was dedicated to protecting.

Olivia became my constant companion on my days off. I'd strap her to my back and take her on gentle hikes, pointing out different trees and plants, teaching her to respect and love the natural world. As she grew older, she became my eager assistant on camping trips and my cheerleader as I continued my munro-bagging quest.

My motorcycle rides became a form of therapy. There's something about the combination of solitude, speed, and stunning scenery that helps put life's challenges into perspective. The North Coast 500 took on new meaning - it became an annual mother-daughter trip, a chance for Olivia and me to bond and create memories.

Music, too, remained a constant source of comfort and joy. I taught Olivia to appreciate the classics - Queen, Bon Jovi, Led Zeppelin. Our home would often echo with the sounds of rock anthems as we cooked dinner or worked on Olivia's school projects. These shared moments of joy helped us navigate the challenges of our unconventional family life.

As the years passed, I climbed the ranks in my career, taking on more responsibility in forest management and conservation projects. The work remained challenging and fulfilling, each day bringing new problems to solve and new wonders to appreciate.

Olivia grew into a thoughtful, adventurous young woman, with a fierce love for the natural world that made me burst with pride. Watching her develop her own passions - for photography, for environmental activism - I saw echoes of both James and myself, a beautiful blending of the best parts of both her parents.

Now, as I write this with Olivia on the cusp of adulthood at 16, I find myself reflecting on the journey that has brought me here. It hasn't always been easy, but it has always been worthwhile. The path I've walked - or ridden, or climbed - has been uniquely mine, shaped by the landscapes I love, the music that moves me, and the relationships that have defined me.

Chapter 4: Rooted in Purpose

At 52, I find myself in a place of deep contentment. My career in forestry has evolved in ways I never could have anticipated when I was that wide-eyed university graduate. Today, I hold a senior position in forest management, overseeing large-scale conservation projects across the Highlands.

The challenges we face are greater than ever. Climate change is altering the delicate balance of our forest ecosystems. We're seeing changes in species distribution, increased threats from pests and diseases, and more frequent extreme weather events. But with these challenges come opportunities - to innovate, to educate, and to make a real difference in how we manage and protect our precious woodlands.

I'm particularly proud of the community engagement programmes we've developed. Connecting people with nature, helping them understand the importance of our forests, has become a passion of mine. Whether it's organising school trips, leading public workshops, or collaborating with local artists on environmental art projects, I'm constantly seeking new ways to help people forge their own connections with the natural world.

My personal passions continue to enrich my life. I've now bagged 282 of the 282 munros in Scotland - a achievement that still fills me with a sense of awe and accomplishment. Each climb was a unique adventure, a chance to challenge myself physically and mentally, and to experience the raw beauty of Scotland's wilderness.

Motorcycling remains a constant joy. The North Coast 500 is an annual pilgrimage, a chance to feel the wind in my hair and the power of the machine beneath me. There's a meditative quality to long-distance riding, a sense of freedom and connection with the landscape that I've never found anywhere else.

And of course, there's the music. Rock anthems are still the soundtrack to my life, whether I'm working in the forest, cooking dinner, or embarking on a new adventure. The power and emotion of a great rock song never fails to lift my spirits and energize me for whatever challenges lie ahead.

Olivia, now 16, continues to be the light of my life. Watching her grow into a confident, compassionate young woman has been the greatest joy of my life. She's inherited my love for the outdoors, but has her own unique passions. Her involvement in climate activism fills me with hope for the future. We still enjoy our outdoor adventures together - hiking, camping, motorcycling - but now as equals, each bringing our own strengths and perspectives to our explorations.

As I look to the future, I'm filled with a sense of purpose and optimism. The work we're doing in forest management and conservation is more important than ever. I'm excited to be part of the solution to some of the most pressing environmental challenges of our time.

I'm also looking forward to new personal adventures. There's talk of a motorcycling trip through the forests of Canada, a chance to experience wilderness on a whole new scale. And while I've bagged all the munros, there are plenty more peaks to climb, both literal and metaphorical.

Reflecting on my journey - from that nature-loving girl in Edinburgh to the woman I am today - I'm filled with gratitude. Gratitude for the wild places that have shaped me, for the music that has inspired me, for the challenges that have strengthened me, and for the people who have supported me along the way.

My life has been rooted in the forests of Scotland, nourished by the beauty of this rugged land, and guided by a deep commitment to protecting and sharing the natural world. It's been a life of adventure, of purpose, of love - for nature, for music, for my daughter, and for the work I do.

As I stand here, surrounded by the towering pines of the Caledonian Forest, I can't help but smile. The path ahead may not always be clear, but with roots this deep and strong, I know I'm ready for whatever the future may bring. The adventure, after all, is far from over.

Chapter 5: New Horizons

As I enter this new chapter of my life, I find myself reflecting on the journey that has brought me here and looking forward to the adventures that lie ahead. At 52, I feel I'm in my prime - experienced enough to appreciate the complexities of life, yet still energetic and curious enough to embrace new challenges.

My work in forestry continues to evolve. Climate change has brought unprecedented challenges to our forests, but it's also sparked innovative approaches to conservation and management. I'm currently leading a pioneering project that combines traditional forestry techniques with cutting-edge technology. We're using drones and AI to monitor forest health, track wildlife populations, and predict potential threats. It's exciting to be at the forefront of these developments, knowing that our work could shape the future of forest management not just in Scotland, but globally.

I'm also increasingly involved in policy work, advocating for stronger environmental protections and sustainable forestry practices. It's a different kind of challenge from my early days of hands-on fieldwork, but equally important. I find myself drawing on all my years of experience as I navigate the complexities of environmental policy and politics. There's a certain satisfaction in knowing that the decisions we make today could have positive impacts on Scotland's forests for generations to come.

My passion for motorcycling has taken on a new dimension recently. I've started a small group called "Highlands Hogs" - a motorcycle club for women over 50. We meet monthly for rides through the Highlands, sharing our love for the open road and the stunning Scottish scenery. It's been incredible to connect with other women who share my passions, to see the confidence and joy that motorcycling brings them. Our annual North Coast 500 ride has become a highlight of my year - a week of freedom, friendship, and breathtaking views, all set to a soundtrack of classic rock blasting through our helmet speakers.

Speaking of music, my love for rock has never wavered. I've started taking guitar lessons again, rekindling the passion I had as a teenager. There's something deeply satisfying about mastering a complex riff or nailing a difficult solo. Olivia teases me about being a "rock star mum," but I catch her smiling when I play. Music has become another way for us to connect, bridging the generational gap with the timeless power of a great melody.

Olivia continues to be my greatest joy and my biggest challenge. Watching her navigate the complexities of teenage life, I'm constantly in awe of her resilience and passion. She's inherited my love for nature but channels it in her own unique way. Her involvement in climate activism has opened my eyes to new perspectives and pushed me to think more critically about my own work in forestry. Our discussions around the dinner table are lively, sometimes heated, but always enlightening. She challenges me, inspires me, and makes me strive to be a better person and a better steward of the environment.

As Olivia prepares for university, I find myself contemplating the next phase of my own life. The idea of an empty nest is both daunting and exhilarating. I'm considering taking a sabbatical once Olivia is settled in her studies, perhaps to pursue that dream of motorcycling through the Canadian forests. There's so much of the world I still want to explore, so many forests I want to experience.

I'm also toying with the idea of writing a book. Not just about forestry or conservation, but about the broader journey of finding one's place in the natural world. I want to share the lessons I've learned from the forests, the mountains, and the open road. About resilience, adaptability, and the profound connection between humans and nature. If my story could inspire even one person to forge their own connection with the natural world, I'd consider it a success.

My munro-bagging days aren't over either. While I've climbed all 282 munros, I've set myself a new challenge - to climb each of them in a different season. It's a long-term project, one that will take years to complete, but I'm in no rush. Each climb is an opportunity to experience these familiar peaks in new ways, to witness the ever-changing moods of the Scottish Highlands.

As I look to the future, I'm filled with a sense of excitement and purpose. The forests I've dedicated my life to protecting face unprecedented threats, but I've never been more committed to their preservation. The music that has been the soundtrack of my life continues to inspire and energize me. The open road still calls, promising new adventures and perspectives.

Most importantly, I'm excited to see where Olivia's journey will take her. To watch her forge her own path, to see the woman she'll become. And I look forward to evolving our relationship, to moving from mother and daughter to friends and equals, bound by our shared love for this wild, beautiful world.

Life, I've learned, is much like the forests I've spent my career studying. It's complex, interconnected, always changing. It faces threats and challenges, yet shows incredible resilience. And with the right care and attention, it can thrive, providing shelter and sustenance not just for us, but for generations to come.

As I stand here on the summit of Ben Nevis, the highest peak in the British Isles, I'm struck by the parallels between this view and my life's journey. The path behind me is clear, each twist and turn visible, leading to this moment. The path ahead is shrouded in mist, unknown but full of possibility. The wind carries the faint strains of a Bon Jovi ballad from my phone, and I can't help but smile. This is where I belong - with the wind in my hair, solid rock beneath my feet, and an endless horizon before me.

Whatever the future holds, I know I'll face it with the same spirit that has carried me this far - with curiosity, with determination, and with a deep love for the wild heart of Scotland that has been my home and my inspiration. The journey, after all, is far from over. In many ways, it feels like it's just beginning.

As I begin my descent, my mind is already turning to the next adventure. There are forests to protect, roads to ride, mountains to climb, and songs to sing. And through it all, there's a life to live - fully, passionately, and in harmony with the natural world that has shaped me.

Here's to the road ahead, wherever it may lead. May it be as rich, as challenging, and as beautiful as the path that has brought me to this point. The best, I believe, is yet to come.

The End