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Editorial
Fear and loathing’s closest partner is elation and accomplishment
The alarm goes off, but it’s not really necessary, as I have been lying awake for hours, dreading the moment.
It’s 3am. It’s dark outside. It is cold and blustery.
There is stirring coming from other bunks and I know that I have to leave my warm cocoon and get ready for the day’s adventure.
I call across to my partner, “Hey, are you awake?”
“Of course,” he says. “Been lying awake for the last who knows how long.”
“Well, I suppose we better get ready, if we are going to do this.” I said, trying to sound semi-keen. And under my breath: who’s fkn idea was this anyway?
I slowly haul myself out of my sleeping bag, sluggishly pull my clothes on, layer after layer. The knot of fear and loathing sitting deep and hard in my stomach – trying to imagine how the day is going to unfold. The 15-pitch route we have planned, hanging like the sword of Damocles over our heads.
We stumble to the breakfast table, dodging other ghostly figures on their own journey, battling with their own mind games.
I’m not in the slightest bit hungry, but force some bread and coffee down my reluctant oesophagus, as I know it is the right thing to do, even though it’s the last thing I want to be doing.
It’s about 4am now, and there is nothing else left to do, but to venture out and get to grips with our planned route.
We shuffle to the door of the rifugio, put on our boots and strap on our crampons, everything done in slow motion and eating away at the valuable hours of the day. Lastly, we don our helmets and headlamps, then step out into the frigid atmosphere above 3000 metres and feel the crisp crunch of our crampon points biting into the hard snow underfoot.
I look up at the huge dark shadows above and around me, the outlines of famous mountains, just starting to make themselves visible in the pale light of the impending dawn. The cold bites deep.
We slowly start our approach across the glacier, the morning skies getting lighter with every step. And as always, our hearts also getting lighter and less fearful as we get closer to our objective.
At the foot of the climb, looking up at the beautiful textured granite and tracing the line of our intended route up the walls above, the anxiety and dread of a few hours ago are a distant memory, replaced now with feelings of excitement and exhilaration.
Pitch after pitch goes down as we get higher up the peak, eventually topping out on a pointy summit. We hug, we take some summit pics, then start the long abseils back down.
Walking back across the glacier toward the rifugio we are very different to the two climbers who walked the opposite way only 12 hours earlier. There is a definite lightness in our step. The trepidation and foreboding from earlier is gone – a very distant memory.
At the rifugio, we lift our celebratory glasses of beer, the fear and loathing that, only hours ago, had no space for any other emotion, completely dissipated and replaced with that warm happy feeling of elation and accomplishment. Happy to be where we are at that precise moment, and very happy to be alive!
Be safe in the hills
Tony
