Looking out from the top of the Old Man of Storr as the mist rolled in with an eerily quiet fury. I hiked to him with a French woman I met. Upon climbing down, she turned to me and asked, "Which do you like better, going up or down? I smoke, so, yea, I like going down."
I laughed and replied, "Going up is difficult, but I like the anticipation of getting there. Going down is easier, but I'm sad to leave." 
The mist then consumed us. We were both soaking wet. She then turns to me and says, "See, the mountain is crying because you are leaving." 
I started crying too.

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