adventure – Mountains of Life

I’ve been stuck many times in my life and in many ways, but this trip to the mountains brought a completely new experience. I knew that winter trails can be very different from summer ones, but it seems that I didn’t do my homework properly. To be fair to myself, it’s very much because I walked the same trail a year ago and everyone followed pretty much the summer variant. This time was different. I stayed in the mountain hut and left very early in the morning in the hope of catching the sunrise on Szpiglasowy Wierch. If I followed the winter trail, I had a chance to make it.

I was climbing the south face of the mountain, which means that in this glorious weather, the snow was melting during the day and freezing in the evening. In the couple of weeks before I arrived, there were a few avalanches in this area, so there were avalanche debris fields on the way. Those, of course, were also melting and freezing at different times of day. When you climb, especially a steep path, you often look at what’s immediately in front of you, one step at a time. As I followed the trail (meaning someone else’s footsteps), I ended up on a huge field of solid ice – melted and frozen again, avalanche debris. For a few minutes before that, I was wondering whether I should swap my trekking poles for an ice axe. I should have…
It was so icy that the poles had no chance. I even struggled to make steps in the ice with crampons. I desperately needed to get the ice axe, but taking off the backpack was out of the question. I could hardly stand still safely, not to mention making any moves. There were bare rocks a few steps away. Steps meant moving, but somehow I managed that! I got the ice axe and hoped I’d be able to climb up. I took a few steps and then I got stuck! Going up was too dangerous, simply mental. Going down was almost equally bad. With any move, I was risking sliding down on that ice and there was a long way to fall. I don’t think that I’d have been able to stop with the ice axe if I fell. I felt unable to make a single step, but I was aware that standing still wasn’t an option either.

Believe me… I did fear… and I honestly thought that I might not see you – all of you, any of you – again. Oh, and I was praying hard. I had Matt Maher singing in my ears ‘Lord, I need you…’ and the Community of Taize chanting ‘O God, keep me safe…’. I couldn’t quite keep up with singing out loud as I normally do, but I did in my head. It’s funny how those playlists always have the right lyrics at the right time.

I think in ‘The Shack’ someone said:

‘You are not stuck because you can’t.
You are stuck because you won’t.’

I knew I couldn’t stay there. I looked around or as much around as I could without moving and decided that my only chance was to try to walk across this ice to the other side of this gully or couloir – whatever a technical term for this is. At that point, the sun came up and shone right in front of me. Almost immediately, it softened ever so slightly that ice in front of me. I have no idea how long it took – too long for my liking – but I made it to the other side and then down to a decent path to the pass. It took a while to shake it off.

We get stuck in various ways in various situations in life. It’s rarely about being physically stuck like I was on that iced mountain. The mechanism of getting unstuck is the same, though. Getting unstuck is a choice. It’s a decision which only you can make. You may remain stuck because you are afraid of making a move, taking a risk (whatever it is), but remaining stuck is a risk in itself. It might not be an immediate risk and it might not be life-threatening like it was in this case, but it is a risk.

Where are you stuck today? What’s your solid ice field to cross?

What is the risk that you need to take?

What freedom will it bring you if you make this move?

What are you risking remaining stuck?

Of course, the forecast was for rain again and this time it rained. Everyone in the refuge wondered how bad it was going to be. I didn’t have much choice. I had to be in refuge Wallon today. I packed everything, put my waterproofs on and set off without rush. Today I definitely needed music to keep me going and ironically the first piece that my phone decided to play was ‘Fall like rain’. Maybe not today, please!

I wondered about all those streams on my way, but I knew that my shoes would need drying after this walk anyway – there’s water coming from every direction today. It’s not heavy, but solid rain. For some reason, I’m in a very good spirit. I crossed the big stream just briefly dipping in one of my boots which I consider pretty good an achievement.

From here I start a steady climb to Port du Marcadau 2541m – the pass that is going to take me over to France. In the sunny weather the views would be stunning, but even in this rain there’s enough drama to make you wonder. The path snakes up and at some point gets surprisingly green. It might be because of the recent rains, I don’t know. It just made me think because it’s quite high and a quite exposed slope. I even saw a flock of sheep – the first on the Spanish side.

As I get closer to the pass, I’m simply walking in water (I was going to say on water, but I’m not sure that my faith is strong enough for that😉) – either on a flooded grassy path or rocks. Further up the landscape becomes incredibly dramatic and I don’t think that it’s just the weather. The rock formation is very different. Though, the word ‘formation’ seems too organised in this case.

As I approach this little pond, there’s only one word that comes to mind that can adequately describe this view. It’s MORDOR and it’s the same on both sides of the pass.

By this time, I’m freezing. When I was leaving in the morning, I knew that wearing waterproofs while carrying full gear and walking up, I would be hot in seconds, so I only had a short sleeve to under my jacket. At over 2500 meters it was really cold. My hands were literally purple. Thanks to my nausea a day before yesterday I had some tea with me, so I had a few sips by that pond and about half a bar of chocolate. I wasn’t that hungry. I simply wasn’t able to brake off a smaller piece. I didn’t bother to get out my hoodie. It was raining too much and by the time I put it on and then my jacket, I would have been soaked. I thought I’d be better off if I kept walking. It’s not the pass itself – as ever in the mountains the distances are deceiving.

When I got to the French side of Marcadau, now aka Mordor, I had Matt Maher singing in my ears ‘If you’re still alive and breathing, praise the Lord…’. I laughed… Someone definitely has a sense of humour. Of course, I’m praising you whatever the weather and whatever happens. It wasn’t an empty praise, either. Even though I was so cold, I felt great. It’s like I crossed the line of something and I’m not quite sure what it is. It’s like it doesn’t matter how cold I felt, how wet…. I was going to say how tired, but I actually didn’t feel tired. I was weirdly energised. This Mordor around me was oddly beautiful. The rocks were stripped in pretty colours. I picked a small stone that mesmerised me with its colours. I put it in my backpack. Silly, considering the fact that I was trying to make this pack lighter.

The Marcadau Valley appeared in front of me and there was suddenly a lot of green around. Quite different from the Spanish side. When the clouds lifted a little, I could see another flock of sheep on the slope in front of me. The rain got lighter, but the streams of water were everywhere and I had to really watch where I was going. I thought that it would be easier after I get to the valley. Well, I was wrong. That beautiful grass was soaked with water, so whether I walked on the path or not, it didn’t really matter – I walked in water. I felt warmer, but crossing all those streams started to frustrate me. However, as they started to get wider and wider, I saw something that made me very happy… Here one definitely needs a bridge 🙂

When I was about 15 minutes away from the refuge, I reached that point when you know that you are close and you are definitely going to make it, but you feel like you don’t want to go any further. I did and I was very pleased to have a long afternoon and evening in warmth.

I finally managed to catch up with journaling. Kristin and Synna, two ladies from Oslo, arrived not long after me. We had a good chat before their dinner. They were on an organised self-guided trip, so had everything planned and pre-booked. I’m not sure how I feel about that idea. I would gladly plan and then hike in a company, but I’m not sure if I want someone to do everything for me. I had another chat with a couple from Edinburgh. I’m still surprised how difficult it is to find English speaking people here.

By the time I finished writing, I was more than ready to sleep.

On the mountain the Lord will provide

Mountains of Life

Tag: adventure

Getting unstuck

The Pyrenees Day 5: Refugio de Bachimaña – Refuge Wallon.