Simplon Pass
Although there was a huge sense of having achieved something, something I’d set out to do, the experience of it wasn’t dream like at all. I knew that while cyclists are permitted on the Simplon Pass, it is essentially a main/National road. While it wasn’t exactly busy, it turned out to be the most terrifying experience I’ve had on a bike. The lorries passed by so close, and so fast. There was more than one moment when I thought it was game over. And on the south side of the pass, there were roadworks going on in pretty much all of the tunnel sections. There was never anyway near enough time to get through on green. I’d have to cram myself and my bike up against a wall, or try and get to the relative safety of where the actual roadworks were taking place. The noise of the traffic and the machines were near deafening in the enclosed, low-lit tunnels. It was probably the most acute sense of real, practical fear that I have ever known. It was also incredibly physically demanding - cycling up a 17km ascent with a fully ladened bike. I cried when I reached the top and saw the giant stone eagle.
I think that I was so focused on the immediacy of the task, that it wasn’t until later that I reflected on the value of it all, and how much the dreams we hold are really worth. While it was an extraordinary feeling getting to the top, and there were moments of magic amidst the chaos, my overarching thought (with the benefit of hindsight) was that this was a day where I ended up pushing the boundaries of luck and good fortune way too far. That nothing actually happened is irrelevant.
These were not insignificant worries or anxieties I faced, they were not things to simply be overcome. They were not factors within my control, I was not reliant on my physical capabilities, nor my mindset. In a defence of this particular quest for achievement - I had no idea it would be so genuinely scary. Had I known, I would have taken the train without a second thought. And as for turning back, well I had blundered on so far in the vain hope that each set of roadworks would be the last, and that things would get better. If I turned around, I’d simply have to go back through it all again. There was no get out point, no easy way off the mountain. The time to make the best decision had gone. Of course, you can never truly know what is going to happen, or what any particular road will actually be like, but I think that this experience will teach me to try and anticipate a little better the potential level of risk.
The Matterhorn
Interestingly, the experience of the Simplon Pass did not put me off riding my bike again the very next day. Without even thinking about it, I was able to separate that experience from the realities of others. There were definitely some residual anxieties though! The sound of a lorry or a coach steaming up from behind. But this would have made me slightly anxious anyway - I wasn’t jumping at shadows. I plotted an out and back route from Brig to Zermatt (93km in total). The weather was looking favourable to get a good, clear view of the Matterhorn. Without a doubt, the Matterhorn is one of the most iconic mountains in the world. I’ve seen it in photographs so many times, and I’ve even drawn it. But there was some inexplicable pull to see it with my own eyes - the chance to feel wonder, the chance to feel small.
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