15th September 2020, 7 of us woke up at 4.45 am, got ready, had a quite breakfast and assembled ourselves at 5.45 am with our crampons, ice axes, dry-fruits pack, and back-up layers of clothes if we start freezing at the top. The aim of 3600 m to Pointes de Mourti, was a small feat for many in the group, especially our guide who has summited Himalayas to Alps. Personally, I was aware it was going to be challenging as my first 10-hr journey of glacier-hike, climbing, and ridge-walk to summit, partially in night. No doubt, it was going to push me mentally and physically.
A day before, we had walked up and down, around 570m, till Cabane-de-Moiry (the only mountain hut around Moiry Glacier) from the turquoise glacier lake with some ridge walks up and down, and a practice glacier walk. Later at dinner, we realized how exhausted we were already due to the weights we were carrying. While having a warm vegan chocolate milk, I still could not stop feeling the amount of privilege I had to be there, and to take up this adventure.
The first hike up with the barely visible white-blue-white marks, till the point to reach glacier, was not very hard as we were pumped up with nice breakfast and 6 hr sleep in cozy sleeping bags. Then as we started slipping slightly on the icy rocks, which were shining like diamonds in the first rays of sunlight, our guide asked us to take out crampons and put them to continue our walk on the start of glacier ice. Safety first: we also put out our harnesses before the crampons, and tied ourselves with ropes with a minimum distance of 20 m between each. The idea was if one falls, other too. No, kidding. The idea was if one falls in a glacier gap (called as crevasse); at least the other could help by balancing the fall by securing the two with an ice screw. The ice started getting thicker and crevasses were visible – in all shapes, depths possible. The logic was simple – avoid the crevasses, walk on ice. Simple.
Slowly, the geography started changing further, as the crevasses and the ice got a layer of snow on it. Now the trick was to know if there was snow covering some crevasses. We never know – some in the group said you could always insert your ice axe to gauge the depth – but the risk seemed low to try this. As we started climbing up on the snowy glacier, the sun on our backs started rising, and it was one of the most beautiful things to witness. The entire pass started glowing and we reached flat snow to wear our sunglasses. After walking some more on the snowy edges, we reached the point where my heart started pumping out of my chest. I could see the rocky ridge we aimed to climb and it did not look any easier than what it looked from the hut. We all took out our crampons, but left the ropes and harnesses on us, because the real risk was actually starting now. I decided not to look down until we reach the top, because I did not want the fear to win. As we crossed a small walk up to the ridge, I started feeling my shaky legs and the fear completely grabbing me. After letting down maybe one or two tears of fear, I decided to stand up and do this. And, so we were on.
The ridge walk was ‘safe’ with not a very narrow ridge, but it was very tricky at times for absolute beginners. I had walked on narrow ridges before – but those were well-crafted paths. This one was not a path, we had to choose and define a path here. As I was one of the least experienced person, I got to be the first person behind the guide, and his instructions made it easier for me to start trusting the small slanted rocks to climb up. And this needed energy - and some good fitness. I knew I was not in my best shape, but I trusted myself a little bit there. As one of my friends (and colleague) mentioned, “Trust the Swiss mountains, Rhythima” – I had to slowly start doing that too – and trust those small cracks in the rock to step up. We came across a small climbing part – and I went in my head “okay guys, I did not sign up for this” – but to be honest, it was not very hard after I started trusting the rocks more. The climb took the longest time, and soon we met a small snow part to be hiked up to reach the top. This was steeper and edgy, but we had ice axe, and crampons again and there was a good path, which mountaineers from last days left. So, we were good to go.
After crossing the snow, and climbing some more rocks, we were at the top. Just like that. I thought to myself “this is it?” In that specific moment, I felt like there had to be something more – maybe a new feeling - to reach here. Then quickly I recalled all the struggles and the doubts I had for 2 days and what I was looking for was a feeling of contempt - satisfaction, maybe. In the uncomfortable position on that rock (mentally and physically) I was sitting in, I took a bite of my sandwich and started looking in all directions, and there was too much to feel, but nothing specific was striking enough. We could see - the highest mountain of Alps: Mont Blanc, there was beauty of Jungfrau top, there was Lake of Moiry glacier, and the small little hut we started from. But the only next thought which came in my mind was “okay, how do we get down now?” The summit was not at all how I imagined it. I was expecting too much, and I felt too much – but both were different - what i was feeling was not expected, and expectations were not met. I looked at others, and wondered if they were going through the same, or just simply enjoying the summit.
And then, suddenly, there it was: The summit is glorified as a victory due to your past struggles, or it is glorified as a stepping-stone to your next big adventure – something that qualifies you to take the next step in future. But nobody talks about summit the way it is. It is a simple moment. Like any other moment, just another moment. It need not be defined based on the climbs of the past, or the falls of the future. It need not be a competition or comparison with others who are around you. Even a summit, a destination, like the journey itself, is about living that moment. Being grateful, and moving ahead. It needs to be simple. It is simple.
I had 3 more bites from the sandwich, and after a customary summit photo, we were ready to leave for the down-climb-walk. Now we were going down in an exact reverse order with the mountain guide at the end of us all. I started feeling much more confident- and started to walk down straight, rather than being on all my fours. Everyone said we did it much faster than expected, and I was glad to be down soon on the glacier again. After slipping once or twice in the snow (probably in small crevasse openings – though the guide seemed super chill about it – as we were tied up and it was probably nothing much), I decided to start concentrating better to walk on the glacier. Slowly I started realizing my migraines might have been building up, and my body started feeling extremely tired, we were walking for almost 7 hours. And I had also used a lot of my upper body strength, which is unusual for me in hiking. So as we reached at the end of the glacier, I took my imitrex (migraine medication) – biggest rookie mistake ever. Imitrex has side effect of impairing your focus, and obviously, I was doomed for the next patch of rocky walk down. This was supposed to be the same path, which we walked up quite fast in the dark at night, but now every step felt like a huge effort. After a lot of personal effort, in spite of it being one of the clearest path, we reached the hut again in more than longer anticipated time. And the only thing I could think of was a sugar filled coffee and big piece of cake. And yes, I was lucky enough to get both. And then we peacefully walked down to the parking spot for another hour and half, to high-five each other, for the completed adventure.
It was so interesting to see that each one of us walked the same path – but coming from different countries, backgrounds, different experiences in mountaineering, level of fitness, different attitudes towards life – had completely different set of expectations and experiences from this journey. Our discussions revolved a lot around sustainability, as we all work in the same field, but there were so many different questions on the similar topics, ranging from geology to black-lives-matter. I definitely learnt a lot from all of those who accompanied me on how to be humble, kind, and respect everyone’s limits and choices. This was truly motivating and inspiring. I learnt to expect nothing, strive for best (in your limits), and live what may come. I learnt to balance risk and challenge, with security from our guide: These paths are not doable without mountain guides, so taking one is a very important choice, especially to know the right paths and safe options (in shifting weather conditions at heights).
Above all, I learnt that nature is a crazy beast. It shifts abruptly, it growls, but it nurtures. It is uncertain, but it is growth. So respect it, live it. And do anything and everything to help it keep it the way it is. Ironically, in the end, nature’s vastness does make you realise importance of your own minute significance.
