The Romanians and I awoke at 5:00 Am. Or rather the Romanians awoke a 5:00 Am and pulled me along with them. We made coffee and breakfast. Packed up our gear and stepped out into the crisp mountain air garnished with a touch of the evenings fog. One last request was made of me, they wanted a family photo before they left a request I was more than happy to oblige. I took the photo with Caraminas old Minolta film camera, which Caramina was impressed I knew how to operate, and we bid one another goodby.

I downed one of the energy tinctures given to me the day before and began the ascent up Laitel, a rather steep hike of almost 200m to a height of 2.39m. the day was clear so the views were breathtaking. The day was going to be a long 19km hike ending in Cabana Podragu. The pace was fast and Balea lake lodgings we’re going to be passed in order to set a pace to beat the thunder storms forecasted for the Fagaras range at the end of the week.

As I walked I noticed some strange weather conditions. The entire north side of the ridge was shrouded in clouds up to the very peaks of the mountains. When the clouds reached the peaks they curled back on their selves and cascaded back down the northern slope. The southern slopes were completely devoid of fog or clouds. It was fun to walk for some time with thick clouds to my left and sun to my right.

Around midday I reached an area where snow fields had to be crossed. These presented a new and interesting challenge. The first snow field was easy enough to tackle. Somebody had kicked little footholds in the snow at some point and they had not yet completely melted away. I set off, side stepping along the little horizontal staircase, reaching the other side of the snow field.

The next snowfield was much larger than the first streatching about 150m along the mountain and 75m down it. The same style steps were streatching across this second mammoth snowfield. A misstep here would not necessarily prove fatal but could be rather exciting and time consuming to recover from. I made sure everything on the exterior of the pack was secured, then tightened the pack on to my back. Pulled out my trekking poles and set one to a normal length and retracted the other all the way. My thoughts were to use the long one to steady me as I crossed and use the short one as a type of ice axe to stop me if I were to fall.

I made it halfway across with no issues then the “steps” smoothed out. They had melted away and the snow had hardened into a hard slick sheet of slushy ice. Slowing down I began kicking new “steps” in the ice, steadying myself with one trekking pole the other ready to cetch me if I should fall. I continued on with my heavy, unwieldy, pack swinging with each kick, and naturally…I slipped.

Sliding. Rolling. Flailing. I kicked into action. Rolling on to my stomach I dropped the long trekking pole and watched it fall away from me up the mountain, good one less distraction. Frantically I stabbed at the snow with the remaining retracted pole grasped tightly in my two white knuckled hands. Faster and faster I slid, snow flying up from my elbows knees, feet, and makeshift ice axe as I tried to slow the fall. Finally I gave up on the short trekking pole. I let it drop to hang uselessly from it’s lanyard. In a last ditch desperate effort I slammed my hands in to the snow. My digging fingers creating 10 neat little furrows which raced away from me up the mountain, untill finally, like a huge train rolling into a station, I stopped… My heart, my breath, my thoughts, and my frantic decent.

I laid face down in the snow for a moment revelling in the numbing cold of the snow on my face, and the shooting pains racing up my arms from my fingers locked into the snow and ice above me. Rolling on to my back, heels planted firmly in the snow, I stared happily if stupidly into the sun and smiled.

The world began moving again. Slowly at first, but like the tumble I just recovered from, slowly gaining speed and momentum. My breath finally returned in rasping gulps while my heart beat like a jackhammer. The break in action forced me back up out of the reptilian subconscious that coordinated the stop of the fall, to my higher consciousness who now had the monumental task of figuring out how to climb back up the mountain to the trail I assumed to be hundreds of feet above me. I slowly looked up to appraise the situation and my hear lept into my throat. I had only slid about 15ft down the mountain. I heartily recommend taking a tumble down a mountain at some point. I have never felt as alive as I did in those brief moments.