12 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

08/12 Eiger, Switzerland

With the crack of dawn we were up to conquer the monster.  We had taken the first train into the heart of the Jungrau region, Grindelwald to the base of the Eiger.  We surveyed the landscape against a local map and selected the West slope since it was opposite from

the well-traveled trails the others were trekking.Can you see the face, I’m hiding, one who’s lonely and oppressed,
with a heart that needs, providing, to be freed, from my distress
…..  Look at me, my misery, look upon my tears, it’s been a long time cryin, I could hardly count the years.

It’s a question of a thousand dreams, a passage I still don’t know,
as a leaf lies helpless upon the stream, I wander to an fro.
…..  Look at me, my misery, look upon my tears, is it from myself I’m hiding, or am I hiding from my fears.

Is it a question of misplaced answers, to all this I have seen,
why has it been this way, tell me, or is this someone else’s dream.

Can you see the face, I’m hiding, one who’s lonely and oppressed,
with a heart that needs, providing, to be freed, from my distress

Every time we thought the trail was challenging us, we’d discover a convenience from the distant past, a ladder welded into the rock face.  Reaching the first summit was like reaching heaven itself.  Every step would take us deeper and deeper into its beauty.  Setting out into the wild, touching, smelling, listening, becoming lost can be a wondrous thing.  The sun in all its glory would peak through the tall green pines, whose branches reached towards the sky but could not prevent its dominance.  The plateau was covered in green and snow-white sheep watched us as if they were in camouflage.  Like angel wings flapping in the distance, I could hear a beautiful chime through the trees.  It was the alpha male, with a bell strung around his broad neck.  I became intoxicated with the idea that this bell would become my souvenir.  Getting close enough was the first challenge.  He was quick and had challenged me on a couple of occasions.  I chose my moment and made my move, tackling him.  Believe it or not, I was surprised he didn’t just roll over and let me remove the bell from his neck.  He acted as if this processed the honor to rule over the others.  Besides dragging me through sheep shit, I also got a hoof in my side.  It was a bad idea from the start.  The higher I climbed the higher I got.  Jim had stopped following once the trail had ended and the real trekking began.  I continue making my own trail climbing higher and higher.  I had stopped and took a picture of the other side of the ravine.  The dozen or so hikers walking the trail looked to me like ants walking on a string.  Only the wind and occasional bell in the distance broke the silence.  Nature, sweetly to her worshipers, she sings.  Pictures and words can’t begin to convey the richness and depth of Switzerland’s mountains.  The fragrant flower of spring, calls to the wanderer to climb even higher, waiting for me to reach and fetch them from the heavens.  I have seen angels.

As above, so below; as below, so above, the pendulum swings
two extremes of the same event and here I hear them sing
to set aside the obstacles which hide the unknown from view
so that I can catch a glimpse of the other side, back to what I knew

Everything moves, everything vibrates, nothing is really at rest
I had no choice but to follow the piper or continued to be depressed
The measure of the swing to the left is the measure of the swing to the right
The rhythm of nature wraps me between, so everything’s alright

The sun is so bright; the skies are so blue, birds sing as they fly by
their wings add sounds that tell of love true, so who could be lonely, not I

For the next hour or so I continued up the Eiger until a piece of the glacier who had surrendered to the summer sun struck me on the head.  That was the reminder I needed, I had gone far enough.  It was then I discovered that I couldn’t take the same path down.  Gravity doesn’t work that way.  I sat down to catch my breath and to survey the thousands of feet I could fall if I lost my footing.  There was nothing in sight to stop a fall.  I thought to myself “How in the hell did I get myself into this predicament”.  I got out my camera to take a picture and at that moment a butterfly landed on my shoe.

I was sitting up there praying that I’m not stuck.  I have a hard time facing embarrassment.  I then decided to zigzag to my right rather than to head down backwards facing the mountain.  With patience I managed to make it back down to the snow line.  It was there I luckily found Jim fooling around in some ice caves, so I didn’t have to track him down.  We still had the problem of getting back down to a safe level and decided that it wasn’t by taking the path we took to get up here, we’d have to find another way.  The landscape quickly changed and began to terrace itself into thirty-foot drops.  We sought out trees and climbed down their branches to reach the next terrace.  We knew what direction to head in but getting there turned out to be easier said.  I was edging along a ridge about six or so inches wide, about thirty, maybe forty-foot above the rocks below, while Jim followed behind.  I was attempting to maneuver past a large tree obstructing the ridge I was standing on. This tree didn’t have enough branches to climb down on.  There was another tree about twenty yards down the same ridge that could accommodate us.  While I searched for a place to anchor my foot, I placed all of my weight on the tree’s branch which was at least eight inches in diameter.  Once I placed my weight on the branch, it broke and dove into the rocks below.  Its descent took the skin away from my armpit down to my elbow.  I swear angels must have held me against that ridge.  There was no other logical answer as to why I didn’t follow that branch down.  It had been supporting every ounce of my weight.  Jim screamed out “You’re dead! You’re dead!” and refused to follow me any further.  As I made it down to the next ridge, I stood there dumbfounded, reflecting on what just happened.  “It’s not a good idea to tackle this by yourself but I guess we’ll meet at the bottom” I responded to Jim’s refusal to follow.

I made it to the tavern at the opening of the trail, sat waiting for about thirty minutes and then decided to clean my wounds.  I sat down to one beer, then another and began to worry about Jim.  Shit, we were running out of time to catch the last train out of the valley.  I was dead tired and didn’t know if I could actually get up out the chair I had sunk into.  At that moment Jim wandered up looking almost as tired as I felt.  I’m surprised I made the walk from the train station to the hostel and I didn’t feel like discussing today’s events with anyone.  I was still digesting what actually happened and really just wanted to be left alone.  But no, Jim had to tell one person after another how lucky I was and how I should be dead, forcing me to retell the story of my ignorance.