Michael is passing me an ever-increasing pile of safety equipment from the car boot. Soon I’m
wearing a helmet, tough fingerless gloves and a climbing harness, plus a complicated device of metal clips and flimsy pieces of cord that is supposed to catch me if I slip and fall. Today I will be attempting my first via ferrata – a climbing route where metal pins, ladders and cables have been fixed onto the rock to allow amateurs like me to venture where otherwise only experienced climbers could tread. As I squint up at the sheer rockface of the Via Ferrata Tridentina, the uneasy feeling in my stomach builds.
Reassuringly expert-looking in his red waterproof jacket, Michael strides purposely towards the mountain, with me jangling along in his wake. He explains that the first section of the climb will be a sort of test – if I struggle we will have to give up and go back down. He demonstrates how to clip onto the metal cable running up the cliff and moves upwards with alarming ease. I don’t want to disappoint him, or myself, so I grit my teeth and resolve to do my best.
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