Life Lessons From the Haute Route
My husband Narayan and I go away somewhere for a few weeks every year. Usually these trips are just about seeing a new place, meeting new people and learning about new cultures. Seldom are they instructive. Seldom do I learn life lessons. Hiking the Haute route from Chamonix to Zermatt in the summer of 2016 was different. I learnt a lot about myself on that trip, a lot that is relevant to both my personal AND professional life.
On a mild spring evening in Seattle, Narayan and I decided to hike the Swiss Alps. The trek has massive elevation gains. It tops out just under 3000 m, and runs along glacier-carved mountains. It is strenuous physically and I had never done anything like this before.
I am not an expert hiker. I knew it was a challenge for me, but I did not anticipate the tricky conditions I found myself in when I actually did the hike.
We took about 2 weeks to walk from Chamonix in France to Zermatt in Switzerland. Most days, we went up steep mountains, on trails carved through thick vegetation connecting one village to the next. The first day we crossed the France-Swiss border on foot and stayed in a sleepy village called Trient.
The second day was when my life lessons would begin.
We were crossing the pass between Trient and Champex-Lac through a windy gap called Fenetre D’Arpette. An hour into the trek, two sprightly climbers descending from the other side told us, “This is a brutal leg, guys. Stay strong”. With that warning ringing in our ears, we climbed.
After a tough few hours, we were at the summit. We ate our packed lunches, and prepared to descend. The descent was STEEP and slippery, and I was fatigued. I slipped and fell. And then I fell again. I twisted my ankle with each fall, and it hurt.
When I was just a couple of miles away from Champex-Lac, the third fall happened. This time, it hurt so badly that I couldn’t walk without wincing. I was overcome with dejection, anger and frustration. My ankle was the size of a grapefruit, and I was sure I would have to abandon the hike. The thought stung me. I limped to our hotel in Champex-Lac.
Miracle of miracles, the owner of the hotel turned out to be a physical therapist. He worked on my ankle and taped it. I ate some warm food and went right to sleep. The next morning was going to be decision time.
When I woke up the next morning – thankfully - I felt much better. I was not 100% healed, but I could walk without limping. I decided to continue my journey. Even today Narayan tells me how amazed he is that my body could pull that off. After being hurt so badly, how was I able to complete a grueling hike?
This was the first thing I learnt on the trek. Humans are capable of an immense amount of grit and resilience : both emotionally and physically. And a lot of times, when it feels like something cannot be done, we are all capable of digging deep within ourselves and finding that strength that will let us finish what we set out to do. It is easy to let our bitchy inner voice win - the voice that tells us we are no good, we are impostors and failures. But we CAN defeat that inner voice and come out ahead.
We trudged on, past charming villages and hamlets on mountaintops. A few days later, we had to cross yet another treacherous pass. This one was aptly named Pas De Chevres – “the goats’ path”. As we neared the summit, the path turned into a heap of glacial silt. There were rocks perched on the mountain I could grip as I climbed this path, but every step I took, I slid. My heart was thudding loudly and I was scared as I had never been in life.
There is a saying that you can only be brave when you are afraid, and boy was I afraid! But turning around was not an option. I had to put one foot in front on another and focus on just the present moment – not how many more such dangerous steps I had to take to reach the top or why the hell did I get myself in this position. There were times when I felt like half a misstep and I would careen down the mountainside to my death. I held onto chains and ladders, and after what seemed like ages, I was at the top.
As I rested on the top, I mentally revisited what I had just done. If I had known before that I had to traverse such a risky path, I might never have started. This trail was definitely WAY outside my comfort zone.
But this trek up Pas de Chevres, in retrospect, gives me the energy and the confidence to try other scary things. When I get nervous now before I sign up for a presentation to a large audience – e.g. – I remind myself of this day. I didn’t think before I started that I could do it. I didn’t feel warm and fuzzy doing it, but I did it.
This is how – I suppose - it works in a lot of daunting ventures in life. You might hesitate to take that Step 1 because you don’t know if you will succeed. But if you take it anyway, believing in yourself, the odds are you will come through.
The last thing I learnt during that time was that I actually do not need a lot of things in my life. For close to 3 weeks, I lived out of a backpack. I didn’t need fancy dinners and accommodation. I didn’t need beautiful clothes or tickets to the opera. These things, I know now, do not bring meaning to me. What brought me meaning during that time was setting a challenging goal for myself, and achieving it.
Many times, we find ourselves blindly pursuing more money, more status, and more material things. Those three weeks, walking from hut to hotel to hut, living with just a spare set of clothes, I asked myself how I could feel so happy and contented. If I could feel this way without many things, then why – as my family sometimes asks me – do I need to work so hard? Why do I “toil away” at my job and my career if I do not need more promotions to keep me happy?
I think I know the answer now. I do not work hard because I want more money or more status. I work hard because my work gives me meaning.
Trekking the Haute Route gave me meaning those 3 weeks. It taught me many things, but most importantly, that I need to keep doing new things, taking that Step 1 when it is daunting, persevering through challenges, and pursuing meaning in my life.