Ain’t no Mountain high enough

Innsbruck, July 2019

Bernhard picked me up from the airport in Innsbruck at 9 am and we drove straight to the mountain lift where i changed clothes and shoes to be prepared for a journey of fixed rope route high up in the austrian alps. Never done that before, at least not being tied up the whole day on a rope. I do remember though doing alpin tours a couple of years ago, burdened with a huge backpack crossing the Triglav Mountain Peak in Slowenia or Transsilvanian Mountains in Romania. The High Atlas in Morrocco was challenging aswell but the best experience of stone desert up in the clouds has been the mountain chain of Picos de Europa in the northern spanish province of Asturias.

Back in those days i was fit and strong like a lioness and nothing could stop me from hiking up and down wherever i wanted to. Now i have to dose my strength in different measurements and i am more aware of lack in balance while stepping along a very narrow path, knowing that a wrong foot placement will drag me down to hell. Bernhard is close behind to catch me, if something goes wrong. He is a mountain guide and usually prepares and renews the trails when destroyed by avalanches or lightning strikes.

After that day we end up feeding his sheep and i get completely crazy about the many bushes of red currant berries, which i almost destroy and stuff myself with. It reminds me of the very few years of childhood i spent in my auntie‘s garden in Bavaria. It was so exotic to me. I end up taking a massive bag of those berries back to Berlin on my lap in the plane, overviewing the mountains i have been up on. Proud of myself that i can still do it.

Thank you, Lioness