Tag: hiking

Getting unstuck

On March 7, 2026

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?

Be still

By Mountains of Life

On February 22, 2025

In Uncategorized

After a very long journey yesterday, I had a late start this morning. I decided to warm up on the way to Morskie Oko. For those unfamiliar with Polish mountains, it is a long walk, but a very easy and accessible. Being accessible means that it’s also very busy. Waiting in a queue for the tickets to the National Park, I wondered whether it was the best choice. I wasn’t going to turn back, so I put some sun cream and sunglasses on and set off.

I was surprised how easily I could block out the chatter around me. The trail wasn’t as busy as it could be, but it wasn’t the solitude of the Pyrenees. As soon as I blocked out the human voices, I realised how still everything was. I’m used to this valley at different times of year when there is so much life and sound in nature. Today everything is SO still. The river and the streams that are a source of sound at any other time are totally frozen. Maybe with an exception of one our most famous waterfalls, but at the moment this usually roaring waterfall turned into a very quiet stream and you can hear it only for a moment. I had my headphones with music and audiobooks, but I decide to put them in my backpack. This stillness is so profound.

After stopping at the mountain hut, I decided to go up the yellow trail for a while. I intended only to go to a good spot to take a few pictures of the frozen lake and the hut itself. I didn’t have any equipment with me apart from the trekking poles. I didn’t need crampons or ice-axe for my original plan. I kept walking up thinking that in the worst-case scenario, I’d go back the same way. The conditions up to the final climb were fantastic and even that last section was doable if one knew how. I met a few people, but those places are away from the madding crowd which makes this stillness even more profound. You could hear a bird every now and then, but apart from that there was only the sound of snow crunching under your feet, your heartbeat, your breathing… None of those could spoil that sense of stillness. It’s funny, I didn’t even sing. Neither out loud or in my head. Apart from maybe two moments when the views were so stunning, that ‘O Lord my God when I in awesome wonder…’ simply sprang to my lips. It made me realise that you can well filter out any external noise if you only want to. I often thought that I needed a quiet place to achieve this. An excuse? Possibly…

Every time I allow it to happen, this sense of stillness makes me go deeper into my heart. When I do it like that, I’m at peace.

Be still…

Hear you heart…

Hear your thoughts…

See what’s there and where it will take you…

The art of subtraction

By Mountains of Life

On September 27, 2024

In Uncategorized

‘Subtract all that is distracting and unnecessary until only the essential remains.’

Ali Kazal on Unsplash

If you read my previous posts, you will know that I packed pretty badly for my trip to the Pyrenees. Just before that trip I tried to reflect on things I do and carry in life in general. It wasn’t an easy process and I’m sure that it affected my real packing for the Pyrenees. I had to literally go through the content of my backpack to see what I could and was willing to leave behind then and there to make my backpack lighter. It was interesting to see what was there, what I didn’t need and was ready to leave behind, what I didn’t need, but had too much value to let it go. It was a painful, but priceless lesson.

If you ever hiked, you know that you don’t always need to take the same stuff. Your backpack will be filled with different things depending on various factors: when and where you are going, solo of with other people, how long for etc. You wouldn’t take an ice-axe and crampons in mid-summer (and below the glacier) or short and sandals in winter… Or ropes and harness if you are not going rock climbing… Or ten t-shirts for a weekend… You wouldn’t take to the mountain hut the same gear as you would need while staying in shelters… Or would you… That was my major mistake the last time. I had everything to stay in cabanas – camping stove, cooking pots, super sleeping mat etc. All totally unnecessary in the mountain huts.

There are also things that you always pack – wherever and whenever you go. Things like a light, compass and map. Some food and water, waterproofs and sun cream – just to name a few.

For years my backpacks have been generally getting smaller, but I still haven’t reached the right size. Subtracting is an art. Focusing on the essential is an art.

Working on my metaphorical backpack is more difficult. I know that I need to check its content more often.

What do you carry in yours?

What are your essentials?

What weighs you down?

What can you leave behind? Temporarily or permanently…

What weight can you share with others?

What have you forgotten?

The Pyrenees Day 6: Refuge Wallon – Lourdes

By Mountains of Life

On September 5, 2024

In Uncategorized

It was another good night and it makes a huge difference. There is a lady at the reception who speaks decent English. She tells me that if I’m going down to the valley, the weather won’t be too bad. Be wise and guess what that means – not too bad. To start with, it’s raining, but very lightly in comparison to last night. It must have been shortly after I arrived yesterday afternoon when the heavens opened. There was a group older French walkers who stayed in Bachimaña the night before, but they came a different way and much later than me. They were absolutely soaked. Well, I definitely count my blessings!

When I was no more than a half-way down to Pont d’Espagne, the sun came out and I took off all my waterproofs. All the way through this valley is wide and gentle. When you walk up, there is nothing to prepare you for Mordor on du Marcadau, but to be fair, it was equally shocking walking from the Spanish side.

When I pass Refuge du Clot, I see the signposts for chair lift to Gaube Lake. Even before I saw it, I was considering changing the plan and walking up Valley de Gaube. When I was in the Pyrenees seven years ago, I was walking down this valley in the rain like yesterday, so I didn’t see much. When I saw that for €13, I could cut the most boring part of the valley, I didn’t think twice. I made peace with taking a taxi, so I can jump on a chair lift, too. That wouldn’t be unthinkable anyway. I looked at the map and was hoping that maybe I could get to the Refuge de Gaube (I had a really good impression of that place) and then walk over to the Valley de Lutour that would take me straight to Cauterets. I felt so good. I was carrying all the gear, but I was running like I used to when I was sixteen. I had to put suncream on, but the temperature was just perfect to warm me up before winter. Spanish and French maps are not timed and the signposts on the French side notoriously underestimate the distances, to the point that people brutally correct those timings. Even running, I didn’t have a chance to make it to Cauterets in time for the last bus. Valley de Gaube lies between two beautiful mountain ridges and takes you along a gorgeous stream and waterfalls, so technically it is a valley, but it’s not flat at all. It climbs constantly and is pretty steep at times. Vignemale in front of me looks very tempting. I could possibly cancel my meeting with Agnes tonight, but it would be madness and I’ve got a feeling that I’m just getting to the end of good weather. That’s fine. I don’t think that it’s my last trip to the Pyrenees.

I remember from my previous visit that it’s an hour walk down from Pont d’Espagne to Cauterets, so I walked up till 3 o’clock leaving myself a couple of hours to get back down to Pont d’Espagne and then an hour to the bus. I bump into Synna and Kristin on the way down and I speed up. On the last section before Pond d’Espagne I have a quick chat with a couple who lets me pass as she seems to be injured. I’m not sure, but I think that they are Irish. They offered me a lift to Argeles which is about 15 km before Lourdes. I thank them and carry on simply thinking that I would still need to get to Lourdes. However, I didn’t think straight… A few minutes later Filip phoned. As we chatted, I asked him what time it was – I was just passing that sign saying that Caurterets -1h. I had exactly an hour to catch the bus. One thing that I didn’t remember from my previous visit was that then I had plenty of time before the bus, so I stopped on the way to take photos and didn’t even look at the time. Did I say that earlier that French signposts underestimate distances? I was literally running almost for an hour, but it was no more than two thirds of the way. I knew I wasn’t going to make it and I was wondering how I would get a lift to Lourdes. Then there was a young couple in front of me. She really struggled with walking and I was going to offer her one of my trekking poles. They didn’t look prepared at all and she was terrified, but there was little encouragement or help that I could offer as they didn’t speak English at all. Through Google translate I managed to ask them where they were going from Caurterets and agreed to take me to Lourdes. After that run, this is a very slow walk, but I’m not in a hurry now. I follow them keeping some distance, so they don’t feel rushed. The half an hour in the car is a bit awkward, but take me directly to the hotel. They refused to take any money from me. God bless them abundantly!

On the mountain the Lord will provide

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

By Mountains of Life

On September 4, 2024

In Uncategorized

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