Just Happy We Are All Alive.

Other title considerations for this post included: Switzerland's Guantanamo. Walking to the Bathroom, or, Getting Knocked off the Mountain? Swiss People are Intense. Whose Idea was this Anyhow?
We went on a hike/snowshoeing adventure this weeked with our Australians, Erin & Lachie & our Swiss/Swedish friends, Andre & Therese. The idea (deluded, incorrect, horribly mislead), but the idea nontheless, was moderate 4 hour hike up to the Fridolin Hut, stay overnight, hike back down the next day. However, we were in for a treat. The hike started out relatively easy for the first 2 hours, and we had covered about 2/3's of the ground. Everyone was happy, relaxed, the sun was shining, all was right in our worlds. However, as we began the ascent, we all began to realize, this is a bit more than we bargained for. It was essentially an additional 5 hours of steep incline in sloshy, melty snow, which for the record, is much much harder to snowshoe in that hard, packed snow, before we spotted the hut, our glorious goal. The hike left us all a bit damaged, emotionally, physically & possesion wise. Not only did Therese lose her footing on a steepy, stoney embackement over a rushing, rocky stream bead (she stopped herself from falling, somehow), but Andre & Erin had both lost hats, a pair of sunglasses & scarf were victims to the trek, as well as Joe's wedding ring. We were happy to be at our night's destination, but we were feeling weary, and, as for me, scared. I have always felt more comfortable going up than going down, so I was not able to relax, despite the fact that we were finally all safe for the night.

We had a nice, warm dinner in the hut, as well as a few beers/glasses of wine. This of course, creates a need to use the facilities, which were conveniently located around the side of the hut. It was only after dinner that the unnerving, howling wind began to pick up. Erin & Lachie made a trek out to the bathroom, only to come back reporting that the wind gusts could damn near knock you off the side of the mountain & if it was anything like this tomorrow, there was no way we would be able to descend. Of course, Joe & I had to go as well at some point, why oh why, aren't the freaking toilets attached? So, we geared up & went out, and oh my goodness. It was frightening, to say the least. The wind kept up all night, and I laid awake listening to it for far longer than I would have liked. Our sleeping arrangements were a bit unique, a giant bunkbed set up. There must have been 10-12 people on the top bunk, each of us having our own pillow/blanket set-up. The proximity of the people was comforting, until all their alarms began to go off, 'wake up, it's 3.25. wake up.' Most of the people up there were intense, weathered, "I live for the high this intense shit gives me" types of people. So, they were all planning to get up to the summit (another 1500m above the hut) in time for the sunrise & then ski back down. Needless to say, the wind conditions deterred their night plans. However, by the morning it was a bit better, so it did not deter us.

The next morning we were up at 7 am, realized the wind was a bit better, and that we had to get the hell off this mountain, and into the valley, where the conditions were still looking promising. So, we started off. I was terrified. The path down was very steep. At one point, I fell, but thankfully only a few feet to a large, broad rock directly below me. Lachie helped me to make it back on the path. Just as we all began to descend again, we heard Therese & then saw Andre basically run (as much as moving down a steep cliff in snow can be called running) down. Therese had fallen at least 50m down the slope & somehow stopped herself on a rocky outcropping, much like the one that had stopped me. Some skiers that were below helped her & Andre was down to her in no time. Somehow, she came out of it just fine, but even thinking about it right now puts tears in my eyes & a knot in my stomach. The rest of the journey downwards, we were all a bit tense, as the weather behind us was quickly turning nasty in the mountains, and we did not want it to catch up to us & reduce our visibility. So, we pretty much moved as quickly as was safe, and did not stop for much of anything. Yet, it still took us 4.5 hours to make it back down to safety. Oh, safety. Flat ground, the only real scars to show for it, a few bruises, a bit less sanity & a missing ring.

Maybe someday I will be able to truly appreciate the accomplishment. We all pushed our bodies to limits that none of us thought that they could go. We worked as a team & kept our fears inside & were as brave as we could reasonably expect to be. But, today is not that day. I am walking like Frankenstein & I cannot go down stairs without a serious struggle. Some of the moments flash into my mind and I automically feel my stomach turn. Physically, we are all somehow okay --- mentally (as if I was okay mentally before this;), well, for that, we'll just have to wait and see.