Mountains, memories, mourning & more.

I woke early this morning, but it's the rest day in Courmayeur - so I knew I could snooze.
But as is the way of the modern world I checked my messages and was stunned by the news of the tragic death of a friend from the past. I wandered down to breakfast numb, early, to be alone, and read it again - a senseless loss, killed in a robbery whilst paragliding across Mongolia - a bright shining light snuffed out for something as paltry as money.

It's not my place or right to share that with the clients, so as they arrived I put on a cheery face and answered their questions - but truth be told I was happy to send them on their way.

I couldn't and shouldn't claim to have known Steve well, but the time we spent together was important to me - he was one of the people who nudged me on my way, someone I always hoped to see again in the hills, someone I always wanted to thank, and now never will.

Without really thinking about it I found myself heading out the door, rucksack packed, boots on - no plan at all. In the absence of the valley bus I headed back into a Val Ferret I know well - the fast pace and steady rise helping me  move without really thinking - a head full of old times and distant rememberings.
Steve had pushed me and encouraged me when I took up paragliding, wavering from a decade of climbing too hard I knew I still wanted to be in the mountains - even if I was unsure how - to go from climbing them to soaring above seemed the next step. I'll always remember the enthused gentle man with the handshake that seemed to imbue you with his positivity - something he had in endless supply. As I stood on the hill ready to launch ahead of my final pilot assessment he looked me in the eye and said "be calm, enjoy it - it's as easy as jumping off a cliff" then he gave me an almighty shove.

Today without aim I powered up the Val Ferret. Yesterday with the clients we'd seen the Refuge Dalmazzi du Triolet shining yellow -impossibly perched on the high cliffs above the glacier ( it's in this pic if you look hard enough)  - the clients couldn't fathom how a person could get there. Somehow, unbidden, it became my destination.
My pace was fast even in my limited state - it felt good to push, to ache - impossible not to mix the manner of Steve's passing with Mum's - thoughts of one interlaced with t'other -  impossible not to again ask why and to again know that some questions can't be answered by mere mortals, some pains must simply burn until we accept their heat, embrace it and emerge.

I was a long way up the morraine when I came across the accident - deep inside my own thoughts, moving fast, tongue bitten hard to counter the shrill ache of ankle and knee. I was too late to do much else but offer what little I had, bandages, water, a soothing foreign word - a hard held hand. The helicopter came in fast and true, we bowed our heads ahead of its blast - the hero's that jumped out assessing as they moved, taking confident control and dealing with a complicated situation with ease. I know I'm good, I could stand apart and be pleased at skills that came unbidden when needed - but these guys are simply the very best at what they do -they took charge of the situation seamlessly, we were moved away for safety and the helicopter powered up the glacier again - never landing, but loading it's stricken cargo expertly - and then raced for the valley, gone in blur - a life literally saved.

I pushed on -mood both lightened and darkened - step following step, moving fast and free, climbing higher as clouds began to tower & threaten ,at the end of the lateral morraine I came to one final obstacle, a 1000ft of cliff- I love the freedom I have in these high mountains but I also know the rules this game has - at the fixed ropes I made the sort of deal every mountaineer knows - however close the goal I turn back at.....when the wind lifts my feet I run for the valley...but for now I climb.
I hit the hut mere minutes ahead of doubt - on the precipitous terrace I paused to wipe my brow and my eyes - to catch my breath, to give thanks.

Today I mourned a life lost, saw a life saved and gave thanks for the life I have.

In memory of Steve Nash, your flame burned bright and lit a spark in me that will always burn, x.