The Bavarian Alps. Part 3, Sept 2014.
By this day, we had our morning routine down. Wake up, get dressed, pack bags, then hit up a bakery en route to our destination. We headed back to Austria, with Gehrenspitz as our intended climb.
with Cümmel reading the guide book for route beta. Sadly it was in German, so all I could do was look at the aerial photo and nod in approval. "What does it say," we asked. Cümmel responded, "exposed scrambling on rotten rock." Ah, awesome. Honestly, it sounded a bit like any North Cascades adventure where you have to press gently on the rock instead of pulling on it. That's doable.
Despite the poor weather and lack of time, I felt badly for wanting to turn around. Either everyone was bummed about turning around, or we were just tired. Regardless, we were a quite bunch that night as we ate dinner and went to bed. Things still felt...off. At least to me they did. That was when we heard about the avalanche fatalities in South America. Two professional skiers were caught in an avalanche and killed while in Patagonia. I checked the Instagram of a friend who I knew was down there as well. Let me clarify, this person and I encountered each other frequently in the Cascades. I loved running into her but we never adventured together. She was that kind of friend: the one you were never surprised to see and always happy to run into. She had a photo from a bit earlier that day. She wrote about amazing conditions. I was happy to see that she wasn't with the skiers and had been experiencing very different conditions.
I woke up to Cummel's voice the next morning. "Do you know...." he mentioned the name of the friend who's Instagram I checked the night before. Jason and I both answered yes and were told that she had beed killed as well.
The next few days were spent traveling around Germany, and I can't imagine how important partying is when friends of our had just passed away. I spent a lot of my time at Oktoberfest being quiet, people watching, and thinking about life. So many people had called these fatalities tragic. I don't know if I would agree with those people entirely. For all of us, it is tragic to have lost these fantastic people. It is tragic for their families who saw them off and will never see them return. I'm not sure if I can say it is tragic for the individuals themselves. They passed on doing something they loved. Everything in their life had brought them to that moment. They worked hard and were in their element. There is nothing tragic about that. People dying in traffic accidents, that's tragic. Young people dying of cancer before they can realize their dreams, that's tragic, too. I watched people raising their Steins for a variety of reasons, and I felt a bit like a phony raising mine.
Again, we rode a gondola into the alpine
with Cümmel reading the guide book for route beta. Sadly it was in German, so all I could do was look at the aerial photo and nod in approval. "What does it say," we asked. Cümmel responded, "exposed scrambling on rotten rock." Ah, awesome. Honestly, it sounded a bit like any North Cascades adventure where you have to press gently on the rock instead of pulling on it. That's doable.
The sky was grey but the forecast called for dry weather until later in the day. This was good news for us, as we hadn't boarded the gondola until noon.
Of course, being Europe and awesome, there were two huts on the way to Gehrenspitz. We decided to not stop until after we summitted. That way we could sip beers while gloating about our success. We also decided to go a more scenic route. It probably added mileage but it also added a bit of confusion. You see, the Alps have huts and signs everywhere. The signs will point a direction, tell you what mountain or hut is that way and approximately how long until you get there. It's great, until the sign falls down.
We reached the joch, or saddle, and found only one sign that read "Black Route." Being that this didn't really sound like where we wanted to go, we decided to head downhill to find another trail. 
Much to our dismay, there was no other trail. We groaned and complained a little, only to turn around and head back uphill.
This was where I called it quits. I don't know what it was, but something just seemed off. It was getting late, the clouds were getting darker. My instincts don't go all haywire very often, but when they do I always listen. I looked at the terrain and added it all up. We had less than two hours to climb up crumbly and exposed rock, down climb this same route, then run a handful of miles to the gondola. It wasn't possible. Jason could sense my hesitation and must have also had the same concerns. We told Cummel and he agreed to abort mission. The three of us sat on a ledge for a while before heading down.
The rain began when we got back to the trail. We looked back at Gehrenspitz but it was surrounded by clouds. Nothing feels better than knowing you made the right choice by retreating. 
Even with the turn around, we had to run to catch the last gondola.
I woke up to Cummel's voice the next morning. "Do you know...." he mentioned the name of the friend who's Instagram I checked the night before. Jason and I both answered yes and were told that she had beed killed as well.
The next few days were spent traveling around Germany, and I can't imagine how important partying is when friends of our had just passed away. I spent a lot of my time at Oktoberfest being quiet, people watching, and thinking about life. So many people had called these fatalities tragic. I don't know if I would agree with those people entirely. For all of us, it is tragic to have lost these fantastic people. It is tragic for their families who saw them off and will never see them return. I'm not sure if I can say it is tragic for the individuals themselves. They passed on doing something they loved. Everything in their life had brought them to that moment. They worked hard and were in their element. There is nothing tragic about that. People dying in traffic accidents, that's tragic. Young people dying of cancer before they can realize their dreams, that's tragic, too. I watched people raising their Steins for a variety of reasons, and I felt a bit like a phony raising mine.
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