Mount Triglav, Slovenia: the summit I skipped and the three hours that taught me more.
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There’s a stretch of Mount Triglav, maybe 50 meters below a small wooden hut, where I gripped a rock face with both hands and swore at it.
I was scared in a way I don’t usually get scared. Angry too, which surprised me more. We’d been scrambling for what felt like a very long time across rock that fell away on both sides, and my body had quietly decided it was finished. One wrong foot and I’d slide, and the slide had somewhere bad to go.
So I held on and gave my
I was scared in a way I don’t usually get scared. Angry too, which surprised me more. We’d been scrambling for what felt like a very long time across rock that fell away on both sides, and my body had quietly decided it was finished. One wrong foot and I’d slide, and the slide had somewhere bad to go.
So I held on and gave my
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