Don't let fear paralyse you!

I write this blog as I enter the second week of my summer road trip. After navigating the 1370 miles from home, we are now safely ensconced in our Ibiza home for the next three weeks.

The first week went well. We managed to see a bit of France and Spain and spent a couple of days in the Pyrenees. That experience inspired this blog on pushing on through your fears.

As avid hikers, we could not pass up the opportunity to sample some of the impressive mountains of the Pyrenees. Armed with a route we had found online, posted by a lady from the south of England, we headed out to get some miles in. 

Before we set off, I knew there would be a lot of ascent, as there are some big mountains in those parts. But nothing could have prepared me for the walk and how high we would go. 

It was supposed to be a 10-mile circular walk, which, according to the review on the app we were using, was a nice scenic route, challenging at times, but an enjoyable few hours with lovely waterfalls.

I would love to meet the young lady who wrote that review, as I would have some feedback for her.

The first 5 miles were as described. Challenging but scenic and easy underfoot, it was all going swimmingly. The halfway point was a refuge hut, and once past that, there was only a small amount of ascent to get to the high point of the walk. We skipped up with a sense of achievement at reaching the highest point we had ever walked up to. It was like we were standing on top of the world. Almost 800 mtrs higher than Ben Nevis (the tallest mountain in the UK), and the only time I have been at a higher altitude than this, I was in a plane. The view was stunning.

From that point, we expected a straightforward, albeit steep, descent through green fields and shaded paths. As we came off the summit, the intuitive route took us left, but the map took us right. I believe in following the map, as intuition can be wrong, especially in areas you don't know, so follow the map we did.

After 500 metres, I should have sniffed a rat, as we had to leave the path and climb over a small rocky outcrop. At the other side of the outcrop, a ledge of rock with a steel cable bolted to it served as a handrail to get us around the corner.

At this point, I need to share that I am terrified of heights. I avoid anything above ground level on a daily basis. Even walking the walls around the city of York makes me feel a bit iffy. High hills are not a problem, as anything with a slope doesn't seem to bother me.

But there were no slopes on this part of the route, just rock faces and sheer drops. There was no way to see what was coming, as it was a series of ridges and shape bends, with more steel guide ropes, narrower ledges, and ever more sheer drops.

This continued for over 30 minutes until we reached a little alcove, where we could sit and catch our breath. We could see where we had come from and where we had to go next from the alcove, yet more steel ropes and sheer drops. It is hard to put in words just how high up we were and how far down it was.

I have been a hiker for many years now and have had a couple of moments when I felt I was in a spot of bother on a walk. But that day, sitting there was the first time I thought I was not getting out of this one.

If, like me, you suffer from a fear of heights, you will know it's no joke; I was terrified, and even Sue, who is quite good with heights, was not feeling good about the situation we found ourselves in.

Then the strangest thing happened. I resigned myself to the fact that maybe today was my last. As I looked out at the magnificent view, I just thought, if this is the day I shuffle off this mortal coil, I had a good run, and it would be a hell of a last view. At that point, a peace descended over me, and my thinking became very clear. I knew there was no way we could stay stopped. If we had stayed here too long sitting with the fear, we could easily have become paralysed by it; all we could do was keep going and moving. Now, we could have decided to turn back, but from where we were sat, the way back looked even more dangerous than what lay ahead.

So, after a short rest, we set off. More steel ropes and steeper drops and all we did was keep taking little steps and moving forward. Then, 40 minutes later, the steel ropes were replaced by metal steps set into a rock face that we had to go up and over. I was about 18 feet high, and we had no idea what was over the other side. As I was approaching the top of the ladder, a mountain goat appeared with a look of "What the fuck you are doing up here" on its face.

Much to our relief, as we got over the ledge, we were faced with the very welcome view of a path with plenty of steady slope on either side. It was still a tricky descent, but we skipped down it and, 3 hours later, were back in the car laughing about it all.

So, what does this have to do with you?

Well, you may not have to contend with sheer drops, rock faces, or steel guide ropes, but you will have to attend to things that you fear and that have the potential to cause you to freeze.

In those moments, you have to keep moving forward, no matter how small the steps. As I learned on a mountain in the Pyrenees, going back can be more dangerous, and staying where you are is no option at all.

I also learned another valuable lesson: never believe Sharron from Southampton when she gives feedback on walks on the Alltrails app. The total distance was over 16 miles, and it's clear she had never done it.

Take Care

GB