Condemned? Alpinism, alpinists and the love for the mountains. By Ivo Ferrari
Difficulties increase slowly, but I know this kind of "toughness" well, I often come here in my free time, that time which, in time, has become an obligation, that time that you'd perhaps like to devote to something else, but I've been "condemned". Below the overhang, sheltered from the sun, I stop while sweat burns my eyes, it's hot, too hot to be up here, hiding beneath the only shady.
I plunge my hands into the white bag once again, wipe my forehead and powerfully pull on those tiny handholds, no elegance whatsoever, just power that I don't possess, knowing only that today I made a mistake, today, yesterday, perhaps tomorrow. Who knows why during every minute, moment or day off I have to serve my sentence, climb, upwards, always, regardless of whether it's hot or cold and... what I should do, is there anything else I should be doing?
I breach the overhang and, covered in sweat, I climb the corner above at a snail's pace, my toes hurt, the comfortable climbing shoes have inevitably become hot and unforgiving, I do the splits with my long legs, I now try to push and not to pull, the holds seem to escape from beneath my fingers. It's hot, really hot!
Literally spent I reach the green summit, which isn't a proper summit, more like a horizontal green where I take off my shoes, my shirt, I stiffen up knowing that the only way I will be able to get rid of the nervousness accumulated during an off day, I lie down, my heart slows back down to its usual beat... bump, bump, bump!
On the path, almost at my scooter, I meet someone else, he walks looking down at the ground, serious and laden down by a huge rucksack, he stops and we look at each other without saying anything, both of us... understand that we're "condemned".
by Ivo Ferrari