“Turn your reflection into a story, not just a picture.”
That was my thought as I set off with a mirror strapped to my back—up a 3,400-meter-high mountain in Austria. Why? Because I wanted to prove what our elamirror is really capable of.
And yes, partly because I was crazy enough to take the highest outdoor selfie in Europe.
The idea: a mirror, a mountain peak, and a pretty crazy plan
It all started—as it so often does—over a cup of coffee in our workshop. I was holding our latest prototype in my hand: superlight, flexible, shatterproof—and yet still a real mirror. I turned it around, looked at my reflection, and thought:
“When we say that elamirror is a true innovation, we have to prove it. And we have to do it right.”
A regular test in a field? Boring. I wanted to aim high.
We chose an alpine peak in the Hohe Tauern range in Austria. 3,400 meters high, technically challenging, with climbing sections and ridgelines—exactly my kind of thing.
In the weeks leading up to it, I trained like a man possessed. Climbing sessions, practice packing with the mirror. Because one thing was clear: even if it only weighs 1.2 kg—at an altitude of 3,000 meters, everything feels twice as heavy.
“If you’re up on the mountain with that, you either have a plan—or you’re out of your mind.” – A quote from a mountain guide after he saw the setup.
The Ascent: Rock, Ice, and First Doubts
I set out before sunrise, together with Felix, my videographer. It was cold, the sky was clear, and our headlamps illuminated the scree and rocks.
The elamirror stuck out of my backpack like a high-tech wing. At first, everything felt great—the mirror sat securely, and I could barely feel its weight.
But the higher we climbed, the rougher the terrain became. We put on our crampons, and the climbing sections grew more challenging. I had to stay fully focused—hands on the rock, feet on small footholds, the mirror like a silent companion on my back.
It went well. Until we reached the ridge. And the wind.
The Wind: When My Mirror Almost Blowed Me Off the Mountain
At around 3,200 meters, everything changed. The wind picked up—not gradually, but with full force.
What had been a handy mirror suddenly turned into a sail. I could feel it pulling at me. Every gust knocked me off balance. At one point, I had to throw myself flat against the rock because I thought: You’re about to be lifted off your feet.
The mirror fluttered menacingly; I clung to a ledge. Felix shouted something at me—I couldn’t make out a word. Just the wind. Just the thought: Don’t give up now.
Despite everything, I kept going. Inch by inch. Counting my hands, feet, and breaths. I blocked everything else out—except for the next hold.
The Moment: The Summit, Goosebumps, Mirror-Like Shine
Around noon, we reached the top. Not a soul in sight. Just silence—and wind.
I set up the mirror and secured it to a boulder with carabiners. I checked everything one last time and stepped in front of it.
📸 Click.
A selfie. No filters. No posing. Just me, the sky, the view—and my reflection at 3,400 meters.
What I saw wasn't just my face. It was the whole story: the climb, the battle against the wind, the arrival. And the elamirror? Unscathed. Not a wrinkle, not a crack, not a trace of the storm.
Looking back: Why this selfie was more than just a picture
The descent was quieter, more relaxed—at least in my mind. I was tired, but satisfied.
Back at the cabin, I checked the photo on my phone. And I knew right away: This is it.
✔️ The elamirror passed the ultimate endurance test
✔️ No damage, despite contact with rocks, climbing, and strong winds
✔️ A selfie that’s not just impressive—it tells a story
But the most important thing wasn't the photo. It was the feeling.
💡 Knowing that we’ve built something that doesn’t just shine—it lasts. Even when you think you’re about to fly away.
The next time you look in the mirror, ask yourself:
🪞 Has yours ever been to 3,400 meters? Mine has.