When fear takes over

If I said that I am never afraid when I go canyoning, I would be lying really badly. Fear is present in all of us and it helps us stop to do things that could endanger our very existence, your materialistic circumstances and the relationships around us. Even if it turns out hundreds of times that the fear we felt was totally redundant in the end, the human feelings still remain a very mighty beast within us all. And today, I will not write about what a hero am, but I will tell you about what a fearful person I can be. It happened like this... After the adventure beneath Eiger Mountain, I woke up into a clear and damp morning. There was chatting and laughter around the car, I heard the sound of portable stoves cooking and the sound of pots clinging, which are always the sounds that let you know that it is breakfast time. I peeled myself out of my warm sleeping bag like a freshly hatched chick. In the night the bag protected me from the cold, so I didn’t even feel how cold it really was. Well, I won’t say it was ideal, maybe a nice companion by my side to cuddle with would have made it a lot more pleasant, but I did still wake up a few times thanks to my “car-mate” Jakob, who was snoring all the time. Yeah, the true romance of canyoning... I went outside the car, made tea and started to cut the salami I wanted to eat in the morning. That is how our morning ritual looks like. Then we ate like a pack of wild wolves, because you never know when you will have the next opportunity to eat again. After breakfast, we packed our neoprene suits that “dried” at night. In the morning the suits weren’t really wet, but they froze so much, they could stand on their own :). Well, we really have to figure out a better system next time... We get our gear ready and the whole group moved a few km upwards, where the official parking spaces of the entrance to Gamchi Canyon lie.  


Canyon approach.

 

  We packed up our backpacks and we were off to the mountain. The sun was high above the sky and it shined on us with a beautiful light when we crossed the meadows and cottages of the Gries Alps, towards the Gamchi glacier, which fills the Gamchi Canyon itself. The nature was really beautiful, so beautiful in fact, that we got lost, even though we had a former national orientation champion with us. So we descended about 100m and we found the right path. We climbed the steep mountains with quite an effort and we could look at all the numerous affluents along the way. We were happy to see some really big ones, because that meant that there is going to be less water in the canyon itself.  

One of the affluents of the Gamchi Canyon.

 

  After a tiring hour of hiking, we came to the place where we were going to exit the canyon later on. The water levels seemed fine to me and all the other team members weren’t worried about it either. We continued our journey. But when we ascended to the glacier moraine, I started to feel uneasy. A certain feeling of fear, which you can’t really describe, not even know where it comes from, but the feeling just wasn’t right. I started to think that there might be too much water, because I never been to the canyon myself yet. I am usually not the kind of person to give up quickly, so I continued the hike. We climbed to the edge of the glacier moraine and at a place, which was filled with sunlight, we put on our equipment and made ourselves ready. Then followed a 30min descent into the canyon.


The glacier remains were formed into natural bridges.

 

  After about 2 hours, we did manage to get to the water. And the water was plentiful – actually there was too much of it. But at first glance I thought that it will still go well. But only if there is no other affluent in the canyon itself with a strong current. I was a bit skeptical, so I asked Andrej, who already visited this canyon. He said, that there is a smaller affluent, which was pretty strong last year he went, but he didn’t know how it is this year. And my brains switched to panic mode. Especially when I saw running water, which flowed down the canyon walls. I was looking at Jakob, which has more experience than I do. He said that the water levels do seem quite high, but he was ready to go, because he is a bigger adventurer than I am. I, on the other hand, started to think about the girl, which I thought was my perfect match. I would like to return to her and get to know here more, that’s why I don’t want to risk anything. The abseil down the waterfalls with strong current is a very dangerous sport indeed. If you step a bit awkwardly, you can slip in no time. When you land in a water current, the rope usually tends to tangle itself up and the strong water force prevents you to sand on your feet or breath in those situations. And after that follows a very painful drowning and/or a crushed spine. In 2016 we already lost one Slovenian canyoneer that way. I decided that my love for life was stronger than my love for canyoning. Beside that I had realized that maybe I have meet somebody who means to me more than canyoning. I reconciled myself with the thought that if the canyon existed for now over millions of years, it can wait another season or 2, till I get back again and till the water level drops down more. There are too many other canyons that are waiting for me and I do not want to risk it all in this canyon, which wasn’t really to my taste in the first place.


After this point there is no turning back.

 

I swallowed my pride and I told my decision the team. And college Iztok also joined me, who was also scared and doesn’t have as much experience and who also has 2 children waiting for him at home. We quickly divide our equipment and everybody gone their ways. 3 of the team faced this enclosed and watery Gamchi Canyon, whereas we two face a good hour and a half hike to the canyons exit. We also had to climb an additional 300m to the edge of the glacier, then descent another 700m back down. We chased the last sunrays along the way, before it finally set behind Mount Dündenhorn.


The view at the canyons efflux.

 

 And at the end of it all, standing at the efflux of the canyon, my impatience grew with every minute. We saw a river flowing through the small crack at the end of the canyon, but not a small river we are used to when we do canyoning. Iztok and I made our way towards the rivers flow and into the dark canyon. After about a 100m of walking, we came to the last waterfall. With the extent of our hands, Iztok and I checked how strong the water current really was. The sheer force of the running water made it impossible for one to hold the hand still. And it is then that I knew I made the right choice.


The river, which flows through the canyon.
 

And then, like 2 unfortunate souls, we were standing beneath the waterfall and waiting for the other 3 to return. After a few minutes we decide, that cold water isn’t a really pleasant ambient for waiting. So we returned to the end of the canyon, where there was flat surface. To warm ourselves, we were walking in circles, like Willy Wonky in his chocolate factory, and thinking about the possible scenarios of rescuing we might make. How to even find the injured person? Is the response time of the rescue team fast? Does Switzerland even allow a rescue team inside a canyon with such a strong current? But my worst-case scenarios soon disappeared, when I heard Jakob’s voice saying: “Damn, we did it!” and I was so relieved. A breathed out a huge sighs of relief, because the boys were alive and well.  

The returning view at Dündenhorn.
 

The senior instructor from my guide course, said, that there is a difference between somebody who “had done the canyon” and somebody who “survived it”. Speaking for myself, I can say that I would probbably “survived” the canyon on that day. If I went, I would have worried all the time, how deep the water is going to be in the next upcoming pool. But now my passion for canyoning still burns strong within me, and at the same time I am immensely proud at myself for saying “no”, although I had hiked and climbed to the entry point of the canyon for a long time.