Another wise lesson

Fear suddenly just blows me away. How could I have been so hare-brained? Why had I not listened to the sweet lady from the reception when she warned me for the danger of the storm?

Why had I trusted her about sunset? And why had I not taken twilight into account? I know so well from playing golf how it affects vision. And why had I not taken a flashlight with me? A moment ago I had laughed out loud at the genius of the iPhone to show me where to place my feet. But, hey! That’s not the only thing; I need to see where to go! I need to see the next red dot that marks the track! I’m only at the turning point. What if I won’t make it in time? What if I get lost? I can call a rescue team, but a helicopter cannot fly with 8bft, so they can’t even come and look for me. Will they ask me if I can survive the night? Where will I find shelter?

Fear is here for a second day in a row and paralyses me. Where and how on earth did this fear all of sudden got into my system? Fear is however a wise counsellor in this case. I check the compass on my phone. Look at it. Puzzled. Realise that I have to look up on YouTube how to work with it. But not now! Now it’s time to rush. No time for pussy behaviour now. Full focus. Full speed. The wind is howling. I stay close to rocks. Jumping. Climbing. Sweat starts running down my back. My boots and trousers turned into hunks of mud. I want to take the headband covering my ears off. The little voice in my head from my Nepali guide tells me to keep it to avoid headaches because of the wind. I keep going. When I doubt which direction to look for the next red dot, the wind seems to push me in the right direction. When I feel insecurity coming in I ask for a next red dot to present itself and find it.

I reach my car. Look back at the sun that sends stunning beams into the water. I check the time. I did a hike of 2hrs 15min in 1hr 40min. I sit back and relax. I learned another wise lesson.