Dreams

Like every year in May, videos and photos of crazy traffic jams of dozens and even hundreds of climbers at the various access points to Everest have been circulating on the Internet for several days, with the arrival of climbers peaking in the month of May due to the good weather conditions. People with less experience, who have paid large sums of money to have Sherpas carry a rope-shaped railing for them from bottom to top, to help them with the jumars, oxygen bottles and crampons that tie them to that rope. A sad spectacle that has nothing to do with the Himalayanism that we knew in the 50s, 60s, 70s and 90s, I don’t know, I don’t have the money to pay for an expedition to Everest if it was me, I wouldn’t even prefer it for free, I would sign up for an expedition to climb any mountain, even if it was the highest mountain in the world. What kind of personal feeling can it be that practically everything that your body and mind cannot do is done to you, that you have to spend hours and hours waiting for your turn to come, that you obviously put your life at risk? It does not fit in my mind. But, of course, it exists and, as they say, everything in God’s vineyard and there will be people for whom this deeply capitalistic experience, far from any personal challenge, is valid. Everest is an amazing and beautiful mountain. The circle that its walls form together with Nuptse and Lhotse is indescribably beautiful, the southern sector is beautiful despite the dirt, the view from the last 900 meters is eternal. It would be something wonderful to go there with you and a few other people. Reach the balcony, the South Peak, the Hillary Step. You, your strength, your lungs, your dreams. That is stratospheric. These people take home a photo of the summit earned with the feet and lungs of others. It is incomprehensible to me.