With hiking, the worst moments become the best stories afterwards – provided you survive, of course, and have time to share them. There is always that point in the path when you get terribly lost or when you are not sure if you can continue (for instance, I hate scrambling or having climb things or going through stepping stones). Whenever that happens, I find that reality becomes sharper: all the colours are three times more intense, I feel that kind of wild danger and suddenly all my other problems seem tiny and unimportant. Survival always comes first. I pray to the gods and I try to pretend I’m brave (honestly, I’m one of the most coward people you’d ever met).
It has been working out so far!
Plus, hard moments bring people together and you realise how amazing some human beings are (that if you don’t get forever lost in the mountains and have to recur to canibalism, of course). I had a wonderful time with my sister and I’m so grateful she didn’t lose it when we didn’t know how to get out from those horrible walls. We’re a great team!