Climbing as a party of three, we roped up and started chipping away at the ridge. The altitude began to show. My fingers and toes were freezing. It was colder than expected for mid-July. Gusts reached up to 60 km/h, and with windchill, it felt like -20°C.

And just like that, I was leading my first alpine pitch in the high Alps. That moment—being completely absorbed in the movement, the exposure, the focus of setting gear and pulling over rock—is something I’ll carry with me for a long time. You don’t think about anything else. Just the next hold, the next breath, the next step.

The final climb to the col was as rewarding as it was challenging. At 3,250 meters, the air was thin, with only 14% oxygen compared to sea level. Like many others coming from lower altitudes, I struggled to maintain a steady pace. A group of cheerful Spanish runners helped lift everyone’s spirits, cheering loudly as we all trudged upward.

Three countries, 165 km, 10,000 M of elevation, wrapped up seven days. We were exhausted and depleted but could not have been happier or more proud of ourselves.

It was 8 in the morning, and to reach the starting point of the hike, we took the first train from Brienz to Rothorn, where the hike began. It was a cute red train powered by steam that offered majestic scenery as it went through the green pastures of the Bernese Alps, we had a view of the beautiful Brienzersee, and as the train gained altitude, the mighty Jungfrau range presented itself to us.

Eventually, we reached the end of the trail, which was supposed to be next to a pristine blue lake, but the lake was frozen. Nevertheless, the view of the mountain range from there was phenomenal.