While most of my articles are more on life around me, this article is on the life in me. So often, I forget about this ongoing process, this force without which I would not be. This force that was ongoing since 3.85 billion years without a stop. That was given from one generation to the next. Just some minutes of not breathing could make all the difference and extinguish it. Sometimes in all the buzzing organisation of daily life it’s so easy to forget about this precious force that is so hard to grasp.
However, there are moments that bring the vulnerability unwantingly to the surface.
One of those moments happened in Jan, 2023. I wanted to share it here. May it remind how small we are against huge forces such the mountains but also how we just need to be super risk-aware when in the mountains.
It was a beautiful January day in Riale in the Southern Alps on the border of Italy and Switzerland in the Formazza valley. Only accessible through Italy, it is one of those wild, rugged Piemont valleys on the eastern side of the Lago Maggiore in which time seems to stand still. In a warm winter in which snow became scarce, this was one of those few days with enough snow for a skitour combined with a sky as blue as it gets and an unexpectedly warm winter sun.
After a morning coffee, together with my skitouring friend, an experienced ski alpinist, we made our way up on the skins. Going up at quite a good speed, we noticed some cracking noises of the snow that reminded us to be cautious. It was an avalanche risk 3 day, which is the level most accidents are happening. It is a risk level that is easily underestimated and calls for staying on track and special assessment of the danger zones. We checked those zones before and wanted to give it a try and turn back in case we do not trust the snow.
After traversing the small, steep gully, we paused for a few minutes before continuing the final meters to the ridge. Suddenly, there was a loud boom, like a bomb detonation. Looking up, I saw the entire mountain moving towards us. And then, everything went blank. I cannot remember the decision-making process or what happened in the following seconds. I was no longer in control of my actions; survival mode, the urge for life, kicked in. All I remember was running with my touring skis as fast as I could. I think I might have been screaming, but I’m not sure. I had no idea where this energy came from, especially since I was still out of breath from the steep gully. We ran for our lives because where we were, was where the avalanche was heading. After those few seconds of chaos when a mountain sets into motion, suddenly, there was silence. An almost unbearable silence. Miraculously, just a few meters from where we were, the avalanche stopped. What happened between those contrasting sounds would define whether I am now fully intact, sitting here, with the forces of life still in me, or whether life would have left me. Because this was not a powdery avalanche. These were massive blocks that could have crushed everything in their path.
While we were out of the avalanche zone, there were five guys in the avalanche. They were carried by the avalanche but all managed to stay on top of it. However, we were not sure if there were more people ahead of us who might have been buried under the snow blocks. So webegan the search with our peeps. It seemed like there was nobody burried. The helicopter of the mountain rescue came anyways and checked too. I was still unable to communicate effectively when the mountain guide asked me questions, maybe it was also the Italian that was not accessible at that moment.
The avalanche was triggered by three guys ahead of us. They decided to leave the regular path to go up a steep side away from the regular route. A decision alpinists with a bit of risk awareness would not have taken on such a day. But the danger of the mountains is that you are not only responsible for your own steps. Taken decisions often reach further. This is what calls for total awareness watching the own steps but also the steps of everybody around, even the steps of ipecs, goats, sheep that could trigger rock fall. In that moment we were a bit too much focused on our own steps, not considering the guys ahead of us. Luckily, our reactions were sharp enough and the mountain gracious that day, letting everybody return back down. During the descent and subsequent drive back home, the adrenaline burst hit and I was a bit overwhelmed by life. Every hue of life just seemed so vividly bright.
This day was one of those that brought the peril, the fragility of life close. Without the instinctual drive to survive, I may not be here today. At that moment, had I merely been shocked and paralysed, the outcome may have been different. Microorganisms may have already begun their feast. It’s one of those days that takes you out of autopilot and reshapes your perspective on the world. Some moments truly make all the difference. That day, the mountains left an extra portion of humbleness and gratitude.
