“No one can open the door for you in this life, only you can do that.”
-Paddy Pallin, in my dream, 2nd of May, 2025, on the way to the mountain that shall not be named.
The mountain that shall not be named, panorama. Hasselblad 500CM, Kodak Gold 200, May 2025.
“To the skeptic who may ask: ‘What was the point in that?’ the philosopher may respond with ‘Looking for the point is missing the point.’ The cynic may add ‘Nothing, like all worthwhile pursuits in life, it was totally pointless’. Given I’m not really a philosopher or a cynic, my personal response is somewhat different.
Whenever I have an encounter, I ask myself, ‘why did this meeting take place?’ And when I reflect on an experience, I ask ‘What will I take with me from this? What have I learnt?’
Going on a quest where our life may be at stake, we are bound to return somewhat changed, which hopefully means we are better equipped and prepared to deal with the kind of challenges and difficulties that we experienced.
So what in specific did I learn on this journey?
I was reminded again, not to give up in the face of difficulty, which for me often manifests as apathy, as lack of caring. At the point where we feel like giving up, that’s the real tipping point in the process of our personal growth. If we surrender to comfort and safety, we will fail to attain the reward that we seek: greater abilities to cope with difficulties blocking our way towards our goals. Perseverance and determination is the adventurer’s greatest asset. Refusing to give up is how we inch toward our destination.”
-From my travel journal, Fagaras Traverse, June 2023.
The mountain that shall not be named, Hasselblad 500CM, Kodak Gold 200, May 2025.
I wish I had kept a detailed journal from my trip to the mountain that shall not be named earlier this year in May. Instead, all I got are three miniature pages of brief notes, which begin with : ‘bring next time: book, large notebook, proper walking boots, overpants, rope’. The bare essentials.
It is interesting comparing my recent trip to one I undertook over two years ago to traverse the Fagaras range in Romania. On that trip, I nearly threw the towel in on day seven, but managed to hang in there and complete the full traverse. On my recent trip, I threw everything I had at the mountain and failed to climb it. Have I let myself down by turning around at that difficult obstacle in the gully? Did I let fear get the better of me? Was the risk I perceived real or imagined? Was the move that made me turn around well within my ability? Or would that move have cost my life if I had attempted it?
Like with all hypotheticals, there are no clear answers. We are bound to the choices we make in life. In this case I am bound to the fact I failed to climb this mountain via its south ridge. And I am okay with that. Because I upheld the first and most important rule of adventure: to return home safely.
Close up. South ridge on far right. Hasselblad 500CM, Kodak Gold 200, May 2025.
Some places are perhaps best left unvisited and unnamed. Sometimes, a place tells us in no uncertain terms that we are not welcome. The south ridge of this mountain was one such place. I feel no need to go back there. I am content to have failed. My curiosity has been satisfied. One day I would like to go back and claim the summit. I don’t feel a need to do that with all mountains. There are some mountains I know I will choose not to climb. But this mountain has called me to it and I will have to go again.
But I feel no need to attempt the south ridge again. I am quite happy to class that way to approach this particular mountain as a dead end. There must be a better way. And I don’t necessarily mean the obvious way, the way I know this mountain has been climbed. Surely there is another way that is somewhat devious, but less horrendous? Surely?
And so I will wonder and ponder and plot and scheme until the time comes to go back. Perhaps next time I will go with someone else silly enough and we will take a rope and some gear? The future holds many possibilities. There are also a lot of other mountains out there, some of them somewhat more appealing. So I am not in a hurry. The time will come.
-A.S. 9/8/25, Brushy Creek
The big dead lake, pink clouds. Hasselblad 500CM, Kodak Gold 200, May 2025.