Something valuable is hidden in an extremely remote location. It has to be collected within ten years. Collectors will have to brave the elements in order to reach the location, but they will not be killed by other people.

I first heard about the Treasure of Mannlicher when I was 16 years old, fighting conifer plantation fires in the Austrian Alps for a few weeks. It had not yet been given the name it now holds, but locals had been talking about it for a few years already.<br><br>I know the Alps like the back of my hand. I know the dangers of high up, cold mountains and icy slopes. In my younger years, I did many different jobs in the mountains. Mostly by myself, and without knowing it then, it all helped to build me up for this.<br><br>I’m writing this from Innsbruck, Austria. It was here I grew up. I love the Alps. They are dangerous but beautiful, and I was drawn to them. I spent years working in the mountains, from mountain rescue, ski instructor, to sawmill worker. I’ve spent years honing my body and training myself to fight the wilderness. In my 30s I went into extreme trekking. I have spent years away from home, exploring the mountains of the world. I spent two years walking from New York to Los Angeles. I walked through desert, mountains, and forests by myself. <br><br>I have spent two years training for this journey. I have spent years developing survival skills, learning about breathing techniques and how to efficiently conserve energy and body heat. I’ve spent years honing my physical condition. I know that I can do it. <br><br>I’m not scared of it. Anticipation and excitement are making my heart race. I understand the danger of it. I expect that I may not come back. I have had this dream for a few years, and I’ve finally decided, that I can, and will, do it.<br><br>I have no idea how to write this. I’m not an academic, and never felt the need to keep a diary, but I don’t want to just die with nothing here to tell people what happened. I don’t want people to forget me either. I want people to know what they’re getting themselves into. <br><br>There will be more of this journey later, but I’ve decided to start writing down notes, so that I can remember as much as possible. I’ve started my journey today, and I will write as much as I can. If I can’t write it down, my wife has promised to transcribe from voice notes I make. <br><br>I’ve written this first paragraph in the days following my departure. We stay in a cabin at the end of the road. I have walked from here, and at this point I am 5 days into my journey.<br><br>I’ve met a few people who are also doing this. They don’t think I’ll make it. They think I’m too old. They’re right. I probably won’t make it. But I have to try. They all seem nice enough, and I wish them the best of luck, but they don’t believe that I can make it. That’s fine. I don’t blame them.<br><br>I left the cabin on foot. The first two days are walking, following the river and as far as the trees go. The weather is cold but clear for the time of year. I’ve been lucky, and I know it. I’m a seasoned outdoorsman and I recognise good conditions. <br><br>I met a few other people doing the same as me on the first two days. All of us are alone, but we are walking in the same direction. We have all heard about it, and for whatever reason, we’re all doing it. We all have the same goal. I don’t know how many of us there are. I never will. I don’t think that many had heard about it when I did it. I met a few people who were doing it, and I’ve seen many more since starting out. They’re all braving the elements, just like me. <br><br>After 2 days walking through the trees I started to feel like I wasn’t in danger of freezing to death or hypothermia yet, so I decided to press on at a good pace. I walked for 9 hours straight, through knee-deep snow. The weather was kind to me, and it didn’t snow. It was clear enough that I could navigate by eye. I was in the mountains, and far from anywhere to ask for help now. I was doing it alone. Only I could rely on myself to keep me alive.<br><br>I’ve kept it in my thoughts this entire time, and have spent years planning this expedition. I’m not sure how I feel, but I know that I can do it. I’m scared, but also excited. I’m not a kid anymore. Now I’m a middle aged man, but I know that I can do it. I have to do it. I’m doing it.<br><br>The reason for it all is the Treasure of Mannlicher. I don’t even know what it is, but I have to get it. I have to go through the most remote mountainous region on Earth to get to it. I have spent years honing my body for this, and I can feel my training taking effect as I wander through the snow. Every step I make takes me further from Innsbruck, where I grew up. I’m walking into the unknown from here. Every step I make is a risk. <br><br>I have seen many other people doing this, and I have met some of them. They are all as secretive as I am about what they are doing. Some of them are alone. Some of them are together, but that isn’t much help in the wilderness either. There’s no help up here. We’re all in this alone. <br><br>The weather up here can be merciless. Temperatures well below -20C, blizzards, crevices, and ice. Anything can kill you, at any time, up here. But I know the wilderness. I know how to survive it. I’m not afraid of storms, avalanches, blizzards, ice, or wildlife. I know how to handle myself against all dangers. <br><br>I’ve been training for two years. I’m ready. <br><br>I walked for 9 hours on the third day, and I’ve still seen no sign of the base of the mountain. I know that it’s still a while away. I know that this trek will take me through some of the most remote and inhospitable terrain in the world. I’m not afraid of it. I’m not afraid of anything anymore. <br><br>I’m excited. I have to admit it. I’ve lived a long life and done a lot of things, but I’ve never done anything like this. I may not survive it, but I have to try. I have to keep pushing from here. I have to make it. I’ve planned for this for years, and I’ve finally started. I’ve finally set out to do it. I’ve spent years training myself for this expedition, and I can feel it paying off slowly but surely. <br><br>It’s cold. I know that. It’s the Alps. I know how cold it gets up here, and I know that the higher up you are, the colder it gets. I’ve been up here at night before. I know what to expect. I know that I have to stay warm, and find shelter tonight. <br><br>I walked for 9 hours in waist-deep snow. The weather was clear, and I could see for miles, but I don’t have any idea how far I’ve walked already. Everything looks the same, and I have no idea how long until I reach the mountain. I wander aimlessly looking for shelter for the night. I know that I have to keep warm. I have to find shelter tonight. <br><br>This is by far the most dangerous part of my journey. I know it. The weather can kill me at any time, and I know it. I have no idea how long it will take to get to the mountain, but I know that it will take a few days at least. I have to keep pushing until I reach the base of it. I have to keep walking through the snow until I see it. I can’t see it yet, but I know it’s out there. I’ve studied maps. I know where I’m going. I have to brave this wilderness for possibly days until I can even think about climbing. <br><br>I’ve been walking for hours and hours. I’m starting to doubt myself, and I’m starting to lose hope. The mountains are somewhere in the distance, but I can’t see them. I know they’re out there, but I haven’t seen them yet. <br><br>I walked for hours and hours, scanning my surroundings frantically, knowing that at any time I’m at threat from crevices and avalanches, but also knowing that I’ve walked for hours and that if I get lost I may never be found. It’s dark, and it’s cold. I have to find shelter tonight. I have to find a place where I can stay tonight. I have to find a place to lay my head, and somewhere to stay warm. <br><br>I walked for more than 9 hours today, and I’m starting to get worried. I’m starting to lose hope. I know they’re out there, but I can’t see them. I’m getting worried that they’re not out there. I’m getting worried that they’re just a dream. That it’s all been a waste of time. I’m getting worried that I’ll never see them. I’m getting worried that it’s not real. <br><br>I’m getting worried that I’ll never find it. I’m getting worried that it’s not here at all. I’m starting to doubt myself. I’ve walked for hours, days, and I still haven’t seen it. I don’t know what