The Climb

The path in front of me disappeared amongst the bedrock. Now what? What lay ahead of me was a steep mound of loose gravel and scree that I had to cross in order to make it off this mountain safely. On my right, down below, I could see trees that looked so small it once again reminded me how elevated I was. From what I remember before attempting this hike, Mount Yamnuska was about 2,300 metres tall. The descent from the top was scary enough as it was, and now this feeling of pure fear was bubbling back up again. I was alone, with no hiking equipment, and nothing more than my backpack, fanny pack and nearly empty water bottle. Phone was sitting at 10% battery life with no reception, the sun was approaching the horizon, and I still had to make it back down to my car.

I began walking towards the mountain face on my left. At least I could hold on to some cracks and make it across safely. After what felt like a couple kilometres, the gravel below turned into finer scree, resembling what I thought was a previous mudslide that had settled. I later discovered it was Mesozoic Fluvial deposits. With no clear path in sight, I didn’t understand how others before me completed this hike. I’m no experienced climber, I purely do this out of hobby and my love of adventure, but how on earth was this safe? Note to self: purchase hiking poles.

With my left hand clutching on to the mountain face, I kept my momentum going. I made it about two thirds of the way across when the next piece of rock I grabbed suddenly came right out, making me lose my footing. I could feel myself sliding down and fast. Instinctively, I pushed my right heel into the gravel to stop myself from going any further downward and dropped on to my knees. I froze. That wasn’t supposed to happen. I felt for a piece of rock a little further along and that too came crumbling out. Shit! What now. My body was shaking all over, this was it. I was going to roll down and die. Panic began surging all through me. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breath. My heart was racing so fast I could hear it pounding against my chest. This is it. This is where it all ends.

In what felt like eternity, I was just stuck there, unable to move forward or backward. These running shoes had no grip either. I was stuck at an elevation of about 2,000 metres with absolutely nothing that could help me get out of this. I began to shift my balance from my knees to my feet, feeling the ground below from left foot to my right, trying to see if there was any move I could make. Looking around me, I saw a flat spot a bit behind me to my left that could work. What if I made it there and that too came loose and I tumbled down? At this point there was no choice, I had to risk it. With a count to three, I pushed my hands up off the ground and shifted my weight to my hips before plopping on the flat stone. I was safe.

Stuck shaking and sitting with my back against the mountain face, I stared ahead of me. What a view. This was by far the greatest view I had ever seen anywhere in the Rockies. Ahead of me was endless mountains and rolling hills in the distance, covered in a blue haze from the heat. My eyes once again focused on the small trees that stood far below. I thought about slowly sliding all the way down and maybe finding a path that would lead me back to my car. Would I have time to do that before nightfall? Realizing that was not a feasible option, I just stared at the view. The thoughts began pouring from every angle. How did you get here? How could you be so stupid to come alone or without any equipment? Why do you think you can climb mountains without any experience, Pavan?

I saw my hands shaking, my pulse attempting to slow down. I needed to be calm if I was going to make it off this mountain safely. So many emotions raced through me through this moment. Would anyone even care if I died today? I don't know where that one came from. I hadn't really ever thought that death was an option but it sure felt that it was right now.

Sitting there, talking to myself as if death was inevitable made me reflect inwards as never before. I may actually die today, but was I ready for that? I choose to climb, to hike, to be alone out here because this is where I find solitude. With every mountain, every summit accomplished, I learn something new about myself. I feel confident, alive, fearless. When my mental health becomes strained, I climb. And this is where that has gotten me: alone, with no ability to turn back or go ahead, no way to call for help. I held my phone in my hand, typed in 9-1-1, and just stared at the screen. Would the call even go through? Would the rescuers call me stupid for wasting their efforts? I never felt so helpless, so scared and frustrated all at once.

There was no way I was ready to give up on life. Not today. Take a breath, you can do this! Think, Pavan! I looked again at the scree I had to cross and then again below to see how far I would roll down. The distance looked to be a few hundred metres across to what I could make out as a path. If only I had something that could help me keep my balance. I looked around at endless rocks around me and recited everything in my backpack and on my person. There was nothing that could possibly be useful right now. Defeated, I put my head down in my arms and stared at the gravel below. Just as quickly as I decided to give up, I noticed a flat rock, almost the size of my phone just laying there. My heart skipped a beat. I could use this rock as a support! My eyes darted all around me trying to find another similar rock. The closest was a tad smaller than the first but it will have to do.

Grabbing the larger rock in my right and the smaller in my left, still shaking, I moved from a safe sitting position to all fours, clutching the rocks to the point where my palms were in pain. I didn’t care, my life was more than cutting my hands open. I moved my right hand and dug the rock in to the gravel. Pushing against it slowly I realized it was secure. Then, moving my left hand with the smaller rock, I also dug that in as far as it would go. My feet followed about a foot forward and I stopped. I was balanced! This may actually work.

Talking myself through the slow step-by-step process, I inched forward. I did not look up once, keeping my gaze at the ground and taking each movement steadily. I began talking out loud, reminding myself of all the things I had to live for, creating a willpower from within. It felt like an hour had passed before I finally looked up and saw a path. It was so close, probably a few feet away. Keeping on, I got close enough to this path and pushed myself forward to it. Stumbling over some loose stones, I fell forward and just laid there for a moment, side of my face on the ground, breathing heavy. I made it. I got up shortly after composing myself and looked behind me. As beautiful as the view was, I never wanted to see it again.

That evening back at the cabin I was staying in, I decided to search Mount Yamnuska to see what others had said about the hike. My eyes immediately shot to an article titled, “Mount Yamnuska closed after Calgary hiker dies…”. I could feel goosebumps rising all over my body but I clicked it open anyways. About a month ago, a man had tumbled down the exact spot I was crawling across and passed away. Many others were hurt. Unable to help myself, I kept searching. This hike had cost many lives over the years and countless RCMP search and rescue calls were made to help hikers that were stuck along the path. This path was no joke.

Each mountain comes with it a new story, a new adventure, and a new lesson learned. A little piece of me was left on the mountain that day. I am not as fearless as I claim, I do need help at times, and I should really do my research before going out on my adventures. I’m glad I made it off Mount Yamnuska, even if to just share this story.