Moving from “If” to “How”
2:00 am, pitch black but for the twinkling headlamps. Crampons on my boots, ice axe in my hand, inexorably tethered to a team of four. I’m scrambling up the aptly named, Disappointment Cleaver, despair creeping into my consciousness. This is where I learned the meaning of Commitment. Though I’d trained hard and felt great on the climb the day before, I was laboring mightily in the higher altitude. While we charged passed other rope teams, I felt as if I was barely hanging on, I’d never been so completely spent. (What made me think this was a good way…
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