I stood there at the railway station of Cadenazzo, Switzerland, when a small red Opel cruised around the corner. The car stopped, an Italian climber got out. We greeted each other briefly and he said, “Lets park your car a little further and pack the bags, we take my car to Valle Verzasca and hike up tonight to the bivouac.” Without many words, I did what he said. Things went automatically, they went with a flow. We packed and before I knew...
