November 11, 2012

Climbing the Mont Blanc





Have you ever done something you did not think you could? Truth be told, I have not. This probably sounds pretty cocky, but I just always feel that if other people can do it, why not me? This attitude has led me to partake in numerous fantastic expeditions, just as it led to hardship and pain more than once. All in all, however, I never regret saying yes to an opportunity. Though hardships there may be, in the end saying yes always leads to new experiences, which in turn lead to a new - or in any case different- me. Just as I like it.

Back to the Mont Blanc. As you may remember, some time ago I talked about my lack of vacation plans. It so happened that somewhere over the summer I got a call from my dad. He and some colleagues were going to climb the Mont Blanc, might I be interested? Of course I was, especially after he assured me it would be nothing too difficult. No climbing experience was needed, and one of his colleagues was even bringing his little son. One of the guys had climbed the mountain two times before, so we did not have to pay thousands of euros for a guide, meaning that the entire undertaking would cost us only a fraction of what most people pay. Obviously it was an offer I could not refuse.




So, five minutes after hanging up the phone, I decided to do some research. Of course I 'knew' the Mont Blanc, but I actually did not know a whole lot about it. Ten minutes later I was getting a bit frightened. I was finding all these reports of people saying it was very hard to complete, even after having started training a year in advance. Our little expedition was set to take off in three weeks. Fresh upon this realisation came the news of the already very high death rate on the mountain this year. I never realised people died on this mountain at all, let alone high numbers of them. 

I was doubting my decision at this time. During the following week or so, I kept reconsidering. Then came the meeting of all the team members, when I found out that the 'little son' my father had used to convince me to come was in truth a sixteen year old super athlete, and the actual instigator of our trip. While listening to everyone's name, a couple of plans to inflict pain on my dad sure came to mind.

In the end, however, of course I went. The chances of me dying on the mountain were very slim. We were going to take the safest route, and agreed that whenever someone was in trouble or just could not go on any further, we would all quit and go back. Sadly, this obviously meant that there was no way I was going to give up, no matter how much I might want to. Being the weakest link, ruining everyones vacation, and bringing shame upon my poor dad for bringing me, all at once? No thanks. I soldiered on and climbed the darn mountain, hard as it was at (most) times, ripping my pants and busting my knee in the process. 







I climbed the Mont Blanc. At half past two in the morning of the third day, I put on my ice shoes, strapped a pickaxe to my wrist and did it. One hour below the top, we had to give up due to bad weather and very strong winds. A three day expedition, and then you get stranded one tiny hour below your destination. To me, it did not make that much of a difference. The bad weather already made the climb take longer than planned, and going further to the top would have just been one more hour of doing the same. Not all the guys agreed with me on this one though. They are already planning a new trip for next summer, and of course I am invited. I could do it, actually reach that top. I am sure I could. I just do not know if I want to.