Considering home is 5200 miles away, we find ourselves in southern Bavaria an awful lot. This was our third time there in two years’ time – maybe we should branch out, but different things keep bringing us back, so we keep saying yes. Yes to adventure, yes to opportunities, yes to delicious food, and yes to pushing limits.
In 2016, we spent a few days at Eibsee Hotel, at the base of the Zugspitze (the tallest mountain in Germany), after celebrating Theresa and Michael’s wedding in Crailsheim. Jordan ran to the top of the Zugspitze then, while Alistair and I took the tram and met him at the top. He immediately started talking about someday climbing it together. Someday seemed a long way away – how would we ever do that with a little kid?
Nowhere to go but up!
Someday turned out to be 2 years and another kid later, admittedly sooner than I had thought. With my parents joining us in Mittenwald, they ponied up for a day of babysitting, and Jordan and I took off for the Zugspitze while the boys were still asleep. I knew the climb would be unlike anything I’d done before, and while I was nervous about encountering “no-fall zones” Jordan assured me it wouldn’t be too bad.
Jordan was full of shit baloney.
Direct quote: “Yea, it’s a no-fall zone, but it’s not in a place you’d fall.”
What I thought a no-fall zone would look like.
Somehow I fell for this line, as ridiculous as it was, and followed Jordan up the biggest mountain in Germany. For added fun, we were racing an incoming storm that could potentially leave us stranded on the side of the mountain with poor visibility and a wintry mix of rain and snow. I was wearing shorts and a t-shirt.
What it actually looked like. Jordan – I absolutely could fall here! Just a few hundred feet of exposure…NBD.
Running a nice, mellow trail, just above tree line – before things got crazy.
Up until we hit the tree line, the run was great: nice trails, beautiful scenery, time with Jordan doing what we love and not talking about work – a rarity, even on vacation. Then we popped out above the trees, onto the shale and started zigzagging our way up the mountain. It wasn’t bad. I could do this. An easy via ferrata here, an easy one there – Jordan was right, these are mild no-fall zones.
Then we crossed a gaping scree field, the product of millennia of glacial run off, and things got terrifying. The higher we climbed, the more up became the only option – down climbing would have been even scarier.
Our jovial chatter turned to silence. Jordan is not afraid of heights, at all. He has no reservations or qualms about standing on a sliver of iron jutting out of a mountain, thousands of feet separating him from the ground below. We did not have climbing gear: carabiners, harnesses, ropes, helmets. We had running shoes. We climbed past 2 couples with full climbing gear. Jordan remarked to me, “You can really just use your hand like they’re using carabiners.”
Silence. I was so beyond my comfort zone – more than I have ever been before, that I don’t say anything. I’m not comfortable with heights, a fear I pretend to not really have because it sounds wimpy. I couldn’t freak out, I couldn’t get mad at Jordan, all I could do is climb. I thought of Alistair and Jurgen and focused on one iron rung at a time – literally climbing a ladder up the Zugspitze. I was not happy. I was not mad. I was focused and in a hurry to hug my kids and never do this ever again. Hours of this silence went by, Jordan, jovial as ever didn’t have any idea about my level of discomfort – a mix of a mountain goat and Spiderman, the only discomfort he was experiencing was how painfully slow he’s forced to move to stay with me.
About 4.5 hours after we started from the base of the Eibsee tram, we reached the top. The last 20 minutes – scrambling across loose dirt and rock on a very steep pitch without the help of iron rungs was some of the most uncomfortable climbing for me. At the top we paused for about 10 seconds to hug and high five. I desperately wanted a bratwurst and half liter of beer, but instead we scurried through the crowds to catch the next train down off the top, my desire to see the kids outweighing my immense hunger.
How to fake a smile at 9,000 feet
Physically, the climb was hard, but mostly it was mentally draining. It took everything I had to maintain composure and not freak the hell out. I like pushing myself, and I’m glad Jordan encouraged me to do it. I’m also glad we returned safely without encountering any major hazards. I don’t think there’s a future for me in mountaineering. I love the idea of it, I love 95% of it, but that remaining 5% is a big deterrent. For now, and the foreseeable future I’ll be sticking to trails that only require 2, and occasionally 3, points of contact. There are still plenty of mountains I can climb that way.
Vielen dank to my parents for watching the boys while we were out there playing around in the mountains. They do that fairly frequently (like, last year at Jackson Hole when Jurgen was only 4 months old!), and we appreciate it. I’m thankful for their understanding that it’s stuff like this that makes me tick – sometimes I think they know me better than I know myself.
Also, continued hugs and high fives to Jordan. He’s the best, and I don’t say that often enough. I recently read a quote from Antoine de Saint-Exupéry that sums us up pretty well: “Love doesn’t mean gazing at each other, but looking, together, in the same direction.” Whether that direction is the top of the Zugspitze, the longterm goal for Powder7, or the general direction of living a life infused with solid doses of adventure (even with the kids in tow!), I’m beyond thankful that we are always looking in the same direction.
