I’ve been stuck many times in my life and in many ways, but this trip to the mountains brought a completely new experience. I knew that winter trails can be very different from summer ones, but it seems that I didn’t do my homework properly. To be fair to myself, it’s very much because I walked the same trail a year ago and everyone followed pretty much the summer variant. This time was different. I stayed in the mountain hut and left very early in the morning in the hope of catching the sunrise on Szpiglasowy Wierch. If I followed the winter trail, I had a chance to make it.

I was climbing the south face of the mountain, which means that in this glorious weather, the snow was melting during the day and freezing in the evening. In the couple of weeks before I arrived, there were a few avalanches in this area, so there were avalanche debris fields on the way. Those, of course, were also melting and freezing at different times of day. When you climb, especially a steep path, you often look at what’s immediately in front of you, one step at a time. As I followed the trail (meaning someone else’s footsteps), I ended up on a huge field of solid ice – melted and frozen again, avalanche debris. For a few minutes before that, I was wondering whether I should swap my trekking poles for an ice axe. I should have…
It was so icy that the poles had no chance. I even struggled to make steps in the ice with crampons. I desperately needed to get the ice axe, but taking off the backpack was out of the question. I could hardly stand still safely, not to mention making any moves. There were bare rocks a few steps away. Steps meant moving, but somehow I managed that! I got the ice axe and hoped I’d be able to climb up. I took a few steps and then I got stuck! Going up was too dangerous, simply mental. Going down was almost equally bad. With any move, I was risking sliding down on that ice and there was a long way to fall. I don’t think that I’d have been able to stop with the ice axe if I fell. I felt unable to make a single step, but I was aware that standing still wasn’t an option either.

Believe me… I did fear… and I honestly thought that I might not see you – all of you, any of you – again. Oh, and I was praying hard. I had Matt Maher singing in my ears ‘Lord, I need you…’ and the Community of Taize chanting ‘O God, keep me safe…’. I couldn’t quite keep up with singing out loud as I normally do, but I did in my head. It’s funny how those playlists always have the right lyrics at the right time.

I think in ‘The Shack’ someone said:

‘You are not stuck because you can’t.
You are stuck because you won’t.’

I knew I couldn’t stay there. I looked around or as much around as I could without moving and decided that my only chance was to try to walk across this ice to the other side of this gully or couloir – whatever a technical term for this is. At that point, the sun came up and shone right in front of me. Almost immediately, it softened ever so slightly that ice in front of me. I have no idea how long it took – too long for my liking – but I made it to the other side and then down to a decent path to the pass. It took a while to shake it off.

We get stuck in various ways in various situations in life. It’s rarely about being physically stuck like I was on that iced mountain. The mechanism of getting unstuck is the same, though. Getting unstuck is a choice. It’s a decision which only you can make. You may remain stuck because you are afraid of making a move, taking a risk (whatever it is), but remaining stuck is a risk in itself. It might not be an immediate risk and it might not be life-threatening like it was in this case, but it is a risk.

Where are you stuck today? What’s your solid ice field to cross?

What is the risk that you need to take?

What freedom will it bring you if you make this move?

What are you risking remaining stuck?