Everyone goes to the mountains. Anyone can do that. And then there you are, equipped with the most expensive trekking boots that the specialist shop had in stock, but without a clue. And strictly speaking, this type of unsuspecting mountain tourist is already a borderline traveller. Because regardless of whether it's just a short hike a few hundred metres up or a climbing route through the rock face - you leave your comfort zone and test your own limits. But that wasn't always the case. Until the 19th century, almost everyone avoided the mountains out of fear - myths and legends circulated about the dark, dangerous rocks. It wasn't until the advent of tourism, which attracted romantic Alpine tourists to the mountains, that a veritable cult of border crossers emerged. At the latest with the South Tyrolean extreme mountaineer Reinhold Messner, who in the 1960s and 70s hardly accepted performance limits (but later repeatedly pleaded in favour of respecting natural limits in the mountains), many people want to personally contribute to the history of alpinism.
Real mountaineers know no fear. They are free from giddiness, sure-footed and have already done everything that normal people in the valley don't even dare to think about. It remains to be seen whether mountaineers in the "fearless" category do feel fear. But to admit that would be a narcissistic offence. If there are fears, then you have to face them. And then there are those who want to be afraid. Yes, they even feel pleasure in doing so, "anxiety pleasure" so to speak, as the psychoanalyst Michael Balint once described it. The thrill of knowing that you have just surpassed yourself and made it. A particularly high level of dopamine is released, which results in a heightened sense of pleasure. A sporty high that triggers a similar effect in the brain as some drugs. So there is also a risk of addiction, as you put yourself in ever greater danger in order to feel the same high with even more fear.
Always jittery, always bumbling around. This type of person never has a moment's peace in the mountains. A break? No thanks. After quickly choking down the energy bar, we set off again. This is a far cry from a leisurely hike. He goes to the mountains to burn off energy and work on his fitness. The focus is clearly on sporting activity, as can be seen from the lightweight footwear, mini rucksack and high-tech sunglasses. Any weight is considered unnecessary ballast. The aim is to get to the summit as quickly as possible - but also to get back down again quickly. The view is of secondary importance, if at all. As long as the sports fanatic isn't dragging anyone along, they should just do it. But be careful when it turns into agonising and having to. It's as if a strict superego is forcing the sports fan to keep pushing themselves - as the psychotherapist and sports scientist Alexis Konstantin Zajetz writes in an essay on the "psychology of crossing boundaries". Then the joy of the endeavour is also neglected. It becomes unpleasant when a whole group pushes themselves far beyond their healthy limits on the mountain because individuals think they absolutely have to complete their training programme.
Whether as a couple, five or more. The main thing is that you're travelling together and can experience wonderful moments with family and friends. What sounds super nice and understandable can quickly turn into the opposite. At the latest when the smartphone is unpacked and the mountain panorama is shared with the entire social community. Everyone should see how great the expensive hiking outfit looks, how delicious the cheese sandwich tastes and how much fun it is to be out and about with your #friends. The virtual companions quickly become more important than the real fellow hikers. This new form of narcissism takes self-esteem to a whole new level. After all, climbing the summit is only worth something if you are not only proud of your own achievement, but also if those at home can see how unique the day was and, in the best case scenario, are envious. However, the perfect snapshot can quickly become a danger. When the view on the mobile phone is more important than the path and recklessness and overconfidence are added - and the real people are neglected.
If the journey is the goal, you've come to the right place. Because while others are rushing to the summit or jetting down the slope on skis, the movement animal enjoys the movement itself. What sports science defines as "functional pleasure" describes the person who is happy when the move on the climbing wall is a success and the speed turn in deep snow is technically flawless. What seems almost like a perfectionist compulsion has its justification in evolutionary terms. Performing well-practised movements creates a positive feeling: on the one hand, it's nice when something goes smoothly. On the other hand, it also fulfils a purpose. The body's energy balance is subject to certain limitations. If you practise a movement to perfection, this also reduces the amount of energy required. To the observer, these movements appear harmonious and worthy of imitation - in contrast to the clumsy beginner.
The fresh, clear mountain air is sucked deep into the bronchial tubes until it escapes with a deep sigh, followed by an "Oh, how marvellous". Here, everyday stress, ringing phones and annoying emails are far away. The mountain becomes an oasis of mindfulness. A natural space dedicated exclusively to relaxation. It's not for nothing that mindfulness hikers have a rolled-up yoga mat strapped to their rucksack so that they can spread it out in the quietest spot and do their vinyasa. The steady rhythm of the even steps allows you to give your thoughts space and collect them. You stroll along in harmony with nature and look for energising places to recharge your battered, hunched office body. And indeed, your heartbeat slows down, your thoughts are organised and nature has fulfilled its full purpose. Until the alarm clock rings at six o'clock the next Monday morning and the mountain panorama seems like a dream of the past.
Enchanted by the aesthetics of the mountains and the breathtaking nature, beauty fanatics really do make extremely slow progress. Yes, these are the ones who stop in the middle of the path because they have to take a photo of a caterpillar on the side of the trail or think they have discovered a particularly rare flower. As if they are seeing a rock face for the first time, every mountain is photographed and documented in detail. Of course, you know every mountain by name, which is confirmed once again when you take out your binoculars, as the smaller pinnacle is a striking feature that only this Alpine chain has. The familiar mountain magic has completely taken over the hiker. But it takes people like this to recognise the beauty of nature and do everything they can to preserve it. It would never occur to them to carelessly throw away a muesli bar wrapper, but to pick up the one from its predecessor.
