Four kilometers above the ground, I am harnessed to the belly of another man. One by one, the other tandems glide in front of me toward the gate. Without my intervention, head back and goodbye. Some start screaming, panic, I enjoy the view. Being jumped out of a plane doesn’t get my pulse racing.

What gets my pulse going is navigating difficult situations on my own, getting off track and finding your own risky way back. There is a reason why a path has developed in a certain direction from this 5000 meter high saddle, San Antonio. Over and over again this path has been consolidated by further steps, this path has worked and proven itself before. I see before me many possibilities that have not yet been established, but which I consider worth exploring. What can go wrong?

Wage’s fumbling forward

Others would see a precipice and turn back, but I’ve already invested too much, I keep going, even if it means having to make unpleasant choices. Just because the path I’ve chosen isn’t safe and comfortable doesn’t mean I can’t walk it. Every step is carefully planned, a wrong step means slipping, not into infinity, but still uncontrolled in some way. I lean back so as not to lose my balance in the depths. The adrenaline puts me in the highest concentration. My gaze sharpens like that of an eagle in search of prey.

I cling between the rocks and scramble down. The sticks fly ahead, just getting in my way. I need my hands to hold on to the rock, done, one less obstacle. But it doesn’t get easier.

The map shows a path, not far from me. I would like to reach it to be safe again. But the steep walls block my way. Again and again I have to climb around them instead of reaching the path. It can’t be that steep when there are even cows grazing up here. They seem to be of the same type as I am. Like me, they don’t seem to know fear of heights.

I blossom in my full concentration. I am one hundred percent there. That is what I need. I resolve to find someone at the next opportunity who can train me for such adventures, who can show me how to move safely in such an environment, what equipment I should have with me for my own safety. I look forward to this new challenge.

Even more extreme

I am easily persuaded to go on ever greater adventures. Often I convince myself to go a bit further. For a few days I had been planning to cross a glacier, named Rasac, that is on the alpine route. Since I had no suitable equipment such as crampons or ropes with me, I asked a mountain guide beforehand whether the crossing was possible without. He advised me to be careful, but said it was no problem. It turned out to be a problem. 

First doubts

On the descent into the valley before the glacier, I was already wrestling with myself. Should I really dare? Was the day not strenuous enough? Finally I looked in the weather report. Sunshine and hardly any precipitation. I still had about 3 hours to climb the 600 or so meters of elevation and find a campsite on the other side. I told myself that I could turn back at any time. Something I normally don’t find so easy to do. But that remained my hook to keep going. I shoved another loaf of bread in my mouth, filled up my water at the lagoon at my feet, and headed out.

I hadn’t eaten much yet. But I didn’t want to hold off on an extended lunch. The climb to the base of the glacier was strenuous, especially since I had already climbed and descended more than 1000 vertical meters that morning. On a ridge of rock and scree it went up meter by meter. My feet hurt more with every step. Again and again I took breaks to drink and catch my breath. My persistence finally brought me to the glacier.

The map showed that the path leads up along the glacier on the rock. Unfortunately, the coordinates were not very accurate. So I tried the glacier itself first. Up to about half of the glacier I could walk well without slipping. There was fresh snow on the glacier, which crunched under my weight and became ice. I had a good step and so it went further up.

Again and again I heard it crack in the ice. In the distance chunks fell down with a crash. A queasy feeling spread through me. I could not make out whether the noises was caused by me. I simply lacked experience. I had never been on a glacier before, let alone alone.

My queasy feeling drives me to the edge of the glacier, where a steep rock face rises into the air. The path seems to run much further up the rock. I try to climb it. Boulders and mud make it almost impossible for me to move forward. On the contrary, my weight in combination with the backpack and the lack of suitable equipment make me slip further and further. I think of turning back. I want to make one last attempt.

At the top left I see some rocks that could give me enough support for the ascent. It takes a few attempts and a lot of mud sliding past me until I get there. I start to climb. Adrenaline surges through my veins. If I fell backwards, there would be nothing to hold on to. As I climb, my poles help me less and less. At some point I have to realize that it just doesn’t make sense to risk any more. I drop the poles. Without them the descent is easier for me. Sliding, I arrive where I started my climb.

I don’t remember exactly which way I came here. But I didn’t want to dare the way over the ice anymore. I look for a way along the glacier. Through the fresh snow it is not easy to see where it is safe to step and where there might be a hollow under the layer of powder. Cautiously I feel my way forward with small steps. I slip. But quickly I have solid ground under my feet again. Slowly my heart slips towards my pants. After a few more slippery sections, I catch sight of a tower of stones in the heights. A sign of past human presence. Have I been following a false trail all this time?

I am hungry and have only little energy left. Slowly clouds are coming up and take away the warming sunlight. I look further up. Two more cairns are visible. A signal to reconsider my return. I pick myself up again and give the cairn a chance. Back down a slippery slope to the first cairn. From there the path looks promising. Along the rock I climb to the next pile. My little experience in the climbing gym gives me the confidence not to stop. Looking down is not a good idea. Now the only way is up. I don’t know how, but the last visible cairn leads back up a slope littered with boulders and mud. Even I have to give my ego a little blow in this situation and admit to myself that it’s not worth risking broken bones or worse so close to the finish. Cautiously, I make my way back.

With last strength and half starved I arrive again down at the lagoon. A small piece of meadow serves me as a resting place for the night. I quickly set up my tent. The stove is started to prepare the calories my body has been craving for hours. While the soup is cooking, I make myself a sandwich with avocado. Nevertheless, I am proud of myself, this time not so much because of the physical performance, but because I have recognized my limits and followed my instincts.