The crisp September air in 2019 nipped at my skin as I stood at the base of the Trettachspitze in Oberstdorf. The first rays of dawn had just begun to illuminate the eastern ridge, casting a warm, golden hue over the jagged granite peaks. Today, the mountain was my only companion, and the path ahead was a daunting one.

 

Free solo. No ropes, no harness, just me and the mountain.

 

I had prepared for this moment for months. Every muscle, every thought, finely tuned to respond to the slightest change in terrain. The east ridge had a reputation—steep, technical, and unforgiving. But it was also the most direct line to the summit, and I craved the challenge.

 

View from the north east ridge.

 

As I started my ascent, the rock was cold under my fingertips, its texture rough and reassuring. My movements were fluid, each handhold and foothold carefully chosen. The mountain demanded respect, and I gave it, moving with the deliberate precision of someone who knows that one mistake could be their last.

 

The morning sun began to warm the rock as I gained altitude, the world below shrinking away into the distance. The east ridge narrowed, turning more jagged and treacherous. The wind was a steady presence, whispering through the cracks and crevices of the mountain, but the weather was holding—clear skies, no sign of the sudden storms that could turn the climb deadly.

 

Photo: the way up.

 

About halfway up, we emerged from the treeline, greeted by expansive alpine meadows. The views were nothing short of spectacular, with rolling green hills stretching out before us and the peaks of the Alps towering in the distance. We took a moment to rest and enjoy a light snack, feeling a deep sense of peace in this serene environment.

 

Photo: the look down on the nord east ridge 

 

Halfway up the ridge, I paused on a small ledge, just wide enough to stand on. I took a moment to catch my breath and looked out over the landscape. The Alps stretched endlessly in every direction, a sea of rugged peaks and deep valleys. There was a profound sense of solitude, a humbling reminder of my place in this vast, untamed world.

 

Photo: The panoramic view from the summit.

 

I continued my climb, each move a dance between me and the mountain. The higher I went, the more technical the route became, the holds smaller, the exposure greater. But I was in my element, focused and calm. My mind was clear, my body strong.

 

Finally, after hours of climbing, I reached the summit. The wind was stronger here, but the view was breathtaking—360 degrees of alpine beauty. I allowed myself a moment of triumph, standing on the narrow summit, the Trettachspitze conquered. But there was no time to linger. The descent was just as challenging, if not more so.

 

Photo: The summit.

 

I turned my attention to the west ridge, the route for my descent. It was less steep than the east ridge but no less demanding. The ridge was exposed, with sheer drops on either side, and the rock was loose in places. I moved carefully, testing each hold before committing my weight to it.

 

Photo: Beofore the descent through the south west ridge, with stunning views at every turn.

 

As the sun began to dip toward the horizon, casting long shadows over the mountains, I navigated the final section of the west ridge. My body was tired, my muscles aching from the sustained effort, but I pushed through. The mountain had tested me, and I had risen to the challenge.

 

Finally, I reached the base of the mountain, the ground solid beneath my feet once more. The Trettachspitze stood behind me, bathed in the golden light of sunset, a silent witness to my achievement. I looked back at the peak, a small smile playing on my lips. I had come to the mountain alone, and I had conquered it on my own terms.

 

As I made my way back to the valley, the last light of day fading from the sky, I knew that this climb would stay with me forever. The Trettachspitze had tested my limits, both physically and mentally, and I had emerged stronger, more resolute. It was not just a climb—it was a journey, one that had reaffirmed my connection to the mountains and to myself.

 

And as the stars began to appear overhead, I knew that I would return. There were always more peaks to conquer, more ridges to climb. But for now, the Trettachspitze was mine, and the memory of this perfect September day would be with me always.