"The Slippery Slope: A Lesson in Adventure and Decision-Making"

Two rock climbers with a view of another island

It was one of those spontaneous decisions you make when you crave a break from routine. I found myself alone at the base of Mont Blanc around 3 p.m., ready for an adventure. I made a quick stop at a local store, picking up a bottle of wine, some cheese, and a bunch of grapes—classic hiking supplies, right? I even grabbed a hiking stick, feeling prepared as I took the ski lift up the mountain. The plan was simple: hike for a couple of hours, find one of the camps nestled in the valleys as the map promised, and spend the night under the stars.

The hike started off beautifully—clear skies, fresh mountain air, and nothing but time ahead of me. Two hours passed, and despite my best efforts, there was no sign of any camps. I had no phone to check my location or confirm the route. By now, it was around 5 p.m., and the sun was starting to dip. With no camp in sight, I decided to head back to the ski lift before it got too dark. But as luck would have it, when I reached the lift, I realized it had closed at 6, and it was already past 7.

From where I stood, I could see the town below, tucked between the towering mountains. My only choice was to hike down. I unfolded my paper map, trying my best to decipher the French labels. No one was around to ask for help, but I found a path that seemed to lead down to the village—the colors on the map matched, so I went for it.

What followed was hours of hiking, each step winding me closer to the town, yet it always felt just out of reach. In a moment of desperation, I decided to take a shortcut by sliding down a slope on my butt for about 500 meters. Bad idea. The ground was wet, and before I knew it, I was sliding faster than I had anticipated. My hiking stick became my lifeline as I staked it into the earth to stop myself from shooting off the trail and tumbling further down the mountain.

In the chaos, my backpack strap broke. I managed to tie it back together, but not long after, I sprained my ankle—minor, but enough to slow me down. The hike, which started as a carefree afternoon adventure, had turned into a 6-7 hour trek of survival. Finally, as midnight approached, I made it to the bottom of the mountain, completely exhausted.

Desperate for rest, I tried two hotels, both of which were fully booked. My luck turned when I finally found a room in the third one. I collapsed into bed and slept for more than 15 hours, waking up just in time for dinner the next day.

What did I learn from this journey? Adventures often start off carefree, full of excitement and possibility, but they can quickly take a turn when you least expect it. A few days later, I discovered there were actually two routes down the mountain—one a 2-hour hike, the other a grueling 6-hour trek. It turned out I had missed a crucial turn and ended up on the longer path. This experience drove home the crucial lesson that decisions shape the path you take in life. The choices you make—whether in the mountains or in everyday life—can lead you down very different routes. When things get tough, pushing through is key, but being prepared can make all the difference. Next time, I’ll plan better, understanding that the right decisions not only help you navigate challenges but can also prevent them.