The Window

by Alexander Read (United Kingdom (Great Britain))

I didn't expect to find Slovenia

The wind whipped and caught me off-balance. Amidst the barren, stony landscape of Mount Prestreljenik, the harsh realities of the alpine environment became increasingly clear. Cruel, unforgiving yet utterly captivating. “Mad dogs and Englishmen” was the phrase that came to mind as we’d scaled the loose, steep slopes to the window. Thunder boomed in the valley as dark, ominous clouds encircled the mountain, whilst fellow hikers slipped and slid their way down to the main path below. We had been the only ones making the ascent. Was there risk? Of course. Why did we do it? Plain stupidity I’d say. The allure of conquering this surprise, last minute addition to our epic hike proved irresistible. The incoming weather added that element of danger, excitement and adrenaline yet appeared to lend sufficient time to reach the summit and make our escape. Driven by clapping thunder like steeds at the crack of the whip, the two of us had scrambled our way to the top, panting ever faster as the air grew thin. Clinging onto the guide ropes as we edged along the crevice, hearts had beaten faster and faster. What were we doing? We were both scared of heights for goodness sake! Insanity had prevailed, yet we felt alive. We felt human. Stood atop the mountain at 2,499 metres, we were on top of the world. Like a ruler surveying his empire, I looked down on the stunning Italian-Slovenian border; a rugged, harsh landscape home to only the hardiest forms of life. Mother Nature sang as the wind swirled, driving the clouds and their shadows across the sparse valley below. We’d made it to the Prestreljeniik Window, a natural phenomenon carved into the rock face, providing a peak into another world. Our audacity, or foolishness if you prefer, had paid off. We had this beautiful location all to ourselves, and after the obligatory photos, we soaked in the view. Here I reflected on my journey. The slips, the falls, and the constant clambering back to my feet. The trials and tribulations; the hard work and toil to get to this point. How I’d struggled in what had seemed like a never-ending uphill climb, pushing against unseen forces determined to stop me in my tracks. The feeling that I’d never break through the cloud and reach the sunshine above. The silence had on occasion been deafening and here, thousands of feet above the world going about its daily business below, it was prominent. Prominent, yet welcome. As two shafts of sunlight pierced the cloud-cover, I had a moment of clarity. The climb had been a metaphor; a reflection of what had been a difficult six months dealing with a broken relationship. It’d been tough, it’d been challenging and I’d had my doubts as to whether I could overcome it, but I had. With the help of my best friend, we’d worked together to get to the top and beaten the odds. Ironically, during this enlightenment, heavy fog had been rolling in behind us. Steve nervously suggested we’d outstayed our welcome and, after taking one last look at a view I’ll be forever grateful for, we began our descent. Sliding our way down as if the hounds of hell were snapping at our heels, we could see the bad weather rolling in. Mountain goats were grazing in the depression below, seemingly unperturbed at the incoming storm as a kid galloped down the hillside, bleating at it’s parents. With time of the essence, we relentlessly picked up our speed, blazing down the now empty trail. The minute we made it to the small coffee lodge by the ski lift, the heavens opened. Success. It’s strange how things turn out. I didn’t expect to find clarity on that mountain. I didn’t expect to get there at all. It wasn’t even part of the plan, but fate led us to discovery. I guess that’s really the magic of travel and adventure; in the most unexpected situation, you can find the most elusive of answers. Everything happens for a reason.