The Roßkogel (2,648 m) is my local mountain, and I’ve had the privilege of reaching its summit countless times, both in summer and winter. Innumerable bivouacs on its slopes—whether under the warmth of summer or the cold grip of winter—remain etched in my memory. I bow to you, graceful pyramid, surrounded by thousands of illusions. You stand, magical and timeless, floating freely in the vast expanse of infinite space.