Scaling Mountains, Facing Fears: A Lesson from the Tour de Mont Blanc

For a long time, staying at the Rifugio Walter Bonatti, a mountain refuge perched high on the Italian side of the Alps, has been a dream of mine. It became a firm bucket list item, and my husband Chris and I planned our recent vacation around tackling a segment of the famed Tour de Mont Blanc to make it a reality. Given Chris's health challenges over the past year, there was a good deal of trepidation surrounding the trip, but fueled by my determination, we resolved to give it our best shot. Scaling mountains, facing fears - we were ready.

Leading up to the climb, a knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. The route consisted of a grueling five-kilometer ascent, followed by a seven-kilometer traverse. And then there was the small matter of my fear of heights! Chris, while equally excited, harboured concerns about his stamina. We had trained for months, but the vastness of the mountains has a way of amplifying even the smallest doubt.

On the day of the climb, we meticulously prepared for the unpredictable Alpine weather. Our packs contained everything from shorts to crampons, along with rain gear and mitts. Early June in the mountains can offer a taste of any season. The initial ascent began reasonably well, but around the 1.5-kilometer mark, the altitude started to take its toll. I began to experience dizziness, a sign I wasn't acclimatizing well. The climb proved more challenging than anticipated, forcing us to stop frequently, just to catch our breath. Adding to our struggles, we ran out of water early and couldn't find a stream to refill our bottles. The next designated rest stop was still kilometers away. By the time we reached the two-kilometer mark, I was becoming increasingly disoriented. My mind felt sluggish, and my thighs felt like lead. Symptoms of altitude sickness were setting in.

Amidst our struggles, the camaraderie of the trail became a source of unexpected comfort. We met a friendly Australian couple and struck up a conversation. Later, the man passed us and generously offered us a portion of his water. This small act of kindness, coupled with the universal greetings - "Hello," "Bonjour," "Bongiorno," or simply "Hey" - from every person we encountered, created a sense of shared purpose. We saw people pursuing different goals: day-trippers, those completing all ten segments, some even camping along the way. There were climbers with ropes and ice axes, and a woman carrying a toddler on her back. Most inspiring of all was a man with one leg, navigating the challenging terrain at three times my speed.

By the 2.8-kilometer mark, I was ready to throw in the towel. My dream felt impossibly far away. Chris, unsure whether to push me or respect my limitations, asked for direction. I admitted that while I would inevitably experience disappointment the next day, continuing the climb in my current state felt unsafe. Though a homeopathic remedy offered some relief, the dizziness persisted, clouding my judgment.

With heavy hearts and aching knees, we descended, retreating to our waiting car. But the dream of Rifugio Bonatti refused to die. The thought of missing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, knowing that bookings were made eight to nine months in advance and a return trip was uncertain, was unbearable. So, after replenishing our water bottles, we drove around to the other side of the mountain and, with renewed resolve, began climbing again.

This time, we made it. The ascent was still incredibly challenging, and the air thinned with every step. But the sight of the refuge's roof emerging in the distance fueled our determination. Reaching the top was an indescribable feeling of triumph. We had overcome our individual challenges, navigated the unexpected hurdles, and ultimately achieved our goal.

Beyond the breathtaking views and the satisfaction of reaching our destination, the experience was filled with life lessons.

It mirrored the realities of birth work: the unpredictable challenges, the importance of teamwork and camaraderie, and the need for resilience in the face of adversity. Just as on the mountain, we must push our limits, support each other, and never give up on the shared goal of providing the best possible care. The climb to Rifugio Bonatti was more than just a vacation; it was a powerful reminder of the strength we possess, both individually and collectively, to overcome any obstacle that stands in our way.