Chapter 40 Part 3 North Col 39

The matter of exploration actually expresses a passion for wisdom.Let me tell you, if you have a thirst for knowledge, and it actually shows, go out and explore.If you are brave, you can do nothing: if you are afraid, you can do a lot, because only cowards have to prove their bravery. Eppsley.Apsley Cherry︱Garrard (Apsley Cherry︱Garrard), The Worst Journey in the World * February 22, 1924 Russell Square Central London, Bloomsbury * Ashley came out of the subway station, bought an evening newspaper from a peddler, folded it under his arm, and continued walking east.It's six o'clock, and the city is heading home, crowds in dark suits filling the sidewalks and station entrances.Ashley turned the corner and walked up Lambercondu Street.He arrived at the tavern half an hour early.

This is a very charming tavern.Large frosted glass windows face the street, and beneath the windows are walls covered with green tiles.Ashley entered the seating area, ordered a pint of bitter beer, and watched the bartender's hand pull the ebony lever three times with skillful movements, pouring the frothy beer into the tulip cup.The bartender's face is blocked by a mirrored partition, which is at eye-level and blocks the entire seating area, as well as the view from the public bar area on the other side. Ashley took the wine glass and sat down at a small round table.He took a sip of his first English beer in five years.He thought it would remind him of something, but it didn't.The taste suddenly became familiar and unobtrusive.After just drinking his first glass of wine, he felt as if he had never left.

it's over.Ashley trained hard, no matter whether the training was effective or not, it was over.The expedition is leaving on Friday.Ashley would face the Himalayas in his current state, his body had never been stronger, but he wasn't sure he could match that mountain.There are no criteria for judging this, so he can only train himself as best he can. It all started in the summer, when he wasn't even sure the Expeditions would take him.Although he had heard conflicting rumors from the start, it would be nice to be back in the Alps again, to leave the ascetic life of wandering Arabian peninsula and return to the solid granite terrain, thinking only of the rocks in front of him. wall.This is exactly what Ashley is good at and likes.It wasn't like that nasty coffee farm in Kenya, which he did well but didn't like; it wasn't like in Arabia, where he liked it sometimes but couldn't do anything right.Ashley is now twenty-nine years old, has thirteen years of climbing experience, and is probably at the peak of his physical fitness.Last season's trip to the Alps was proof enough.As exhausting as the climb was, it felt great, and by the end of August he had received the news that he had been admitted to the expedition: There was a telegram to Ashley at the counter of the Montclair Hotel, which he opened. The envelope, blushing with a smile, showed the telegram to the waiter, and translated the importance of the content in poor French.

I'm going to climb, Ashley explained: the highest mountain in the world. The waiter finally understood what he meant, and said what anyone would say after hearing that: Good luck. That telegram with only twelve characters on a piece of paper changed everything about Ashley.At first he planned to spend the winter in the Alps, training in the snow until the expedition set off in February.He lived in a small hotel outside the town of Hondelès, began to exercise seriously, climbed the mountain trails at dawn, fell and carried wood for two weeks, until his hands were blistered, the owner of the hotel It also said that there was no room to store wood.However, with the first snowfall in autumn, Ashley found that he really wanted to go back to England, the place he thought he was no longer concerned about.

Ashley hadn't been back to England since 1919.Only now, surrounded by snow-covered peaks, did he begin to imagine what home looked like: a sleeping kingdom, full of rain and leaves.He wanted to see the sea, circles of mist shrouded the coast, billowing water curtains rushed up and receded.And he knows he doesn't have to train for Everest.Other mountaineers told him that to climb that mountain required will rather than skill and that it was purely a matter of endurance. It took only one week for Ashley to come to London.He temporarily rented an apartment near Coram's Fields and wandered places he knew before, feeling like a ghost who had returned to live among the living.At night, he would skip rope on a Moroccan rug by the table, while the rain sprayed patterns on the windows and wet the sidewalk outside.He tentatively forayed into high society: attending meetings of the British Mountaineering Association; going to West End theaters; drinking at the Café Royal.He was ready for heavy fire from others asking about the past few years.Where has he been and what is he doing?What are your plans for the future?As a result, the city seemed to barely notice that he had disappeared.

Spy chief, they said, grabbing him by the shoulders.Haven't seen you lately.Where did you hide? Ashley felt that it was unfair that the whole city could forget about him so easily and continue to operate, and that those who lost their lives could be so easily forgotten.Although he knew this emotion was ridiculous, he still couldn't help it.The grass in Regent's Park looked the same as it had looked in 1916, but he felt something else entirely.Ashley immediately recalled all the sufferings of five years ago: Gantt Tea House should continue to sell pineapple ice; magazines should respectfully print the famous lady Diana.Photos of Miss Diana Manners' wedding; "Zhu Qingzhou"1 should have drawn a huge audience when it was played at the King's Theater while Jeffreys, Ismay, Bradley and millions of others, but the bones Piles lay beneath the mud in France, bodies rotting in rubber body bags.In 1919, stonemasons all over Europe went to the village squares to build obelisks, and Ashley believed that the more monuments they built and the more hymns they sang, the faster the dead would become Groups without personal identity.

1. Chu Chin Chow, a musical comedy based on "Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves", premiered in 1916 and performed 2,238 times in 1921, a record until 40 years later was broken. Integrating Ismay with the honorable dead was the most complete way to erase him. It was in his nature to dislike such hypocrisy, and Ashley had never known this rough and brave fellow.Until later, in some fragmentary memories such as hitchhiking through the edge of the Nafud Desert in Arabia, the driver sang a repetitive melody in Arabic, or lying under an eiderdown in a mountain hut in the Bernese Oberland, Switzerland Ashley gradually understood when he was insomnia on the wooden plank bed. He thought he had forgotten Ismay's face, but suddenly remembered: the smile on the corner of Ismay's mouth, the green and brown eyes that seemed to be out of focus, and an old The tin cup gulped down the rum, followed him in the hallway and watched the snow cover the entire barracks.

Spy chief, do you know how we are different from them? have no idea That we will survive this war.Do you know why? have no idea. Because we're so fucking desperate.Adding insult to injury to someone who is down is a sin that would not be tolerated even if God were dead.You and I are not soldiers.This is not our end. At that time, Ashley could barely understand this passage, but as the years passed, he understood more and more.Ismay is much more afraid of death than anyone else, probably because he has seen enough life to know how worth living it is.Ashley knew how much Ismay sympathized with him, understood him, blind as he was.Ashley also understood that each of them, Ismay, Jeffreys, and all the young officers in France were just children, playing mime actors, barely aware of the importance of this scene, just like this in a critical moment. Progressing through an irreversible game of courage and death, they would pant and scream in waking or sleeping nightmares, but never speak sincerely to each other.

Only Ismay was different, but Ashley didn't know why, even to this day.They barely knew each other, but lately Ashley found himself thinking more and more of Ismay, wanting to ask him questions and apologizing for the slightest mistake. He had borrowed a military tie and never returned it.He thought of the day Ismay left the barracks, the water pipes froze and burst, and Ashley didn't say goodbye.He never saw Ismay again. It was these emotions that made London in 1919 gloomy. In the past five years, although Ashley had done a lot, the gloom still existed.Ashley's only friends in the city seem to find him strange and alien.They didn't know his life, and he didn't know theirs, and it must not be the effect of the war, because they had all fought.

Ashley is leaving London in the next week.He first went to Sutton-Courtney to see his mother, and after five years she was much older, more charming but also very frail.The housekeeper reminded Ashley that she only goes out on Sundays now, and only if the weather is good enough.At dinner on the first night, Ashley told his mother what he had done abroad, some of it was fact, some of it was pure fantasy, and he only said what he thought her mother wanted to hear, because even if he could express it clearly, There was no way to tell her all the facts.Ashley mentioned Mount Everest, careful to avoid any suggestion that the mountain would sound dangerous.Mother listened lovingly to all this.

You have done some great things.She said: Being a soldier makes you so strong. The next day Ashley paddled his single scull on the Thames from the afternoon until he was alone in the dark, unable to see his submerged oars.All around were the whoosh of his oars, the stars overhead, and a passing barge with a lantern on it and its bow bobbing alone.He spent two weeks at Sutton-Courtney, and the more he felt alienated from his country and his fellow countrymen, the more important training became.He had become a man without a country, no longer British, and not an expert on Africa, Arabia, or any other place.The only thing he is good at is climbing mountains, which seems to be the only thing he can control. Ashley bought an Austin Seven Series Saloon.He drove to Snowdonia, checked into small hotels, and walked briskly on the paths he had just begun to learn about the mountains.He walked throughout the day, sometimes for longer periods of time, and found that he could overcome fatigue and even regain strength as he moved, simply by continuing to move.He intends to use the special breathing method he developed at high altitude to breathe regularly and efficiently in a way that matches his pace.He needs every advantage.He wanted to know the secrets of the strength of wild animals, the musculature of animals like the Swiss ibex, the saber-eared oryx, the Arabian gazelle that he had seen traveling through binoculars or by moonlit lakesides. As the new year came, Ashley drove south to live in a cottage on the Pembrokeshire coast.Every day at dawn and dusk, he sprints along the coast, striding through the sand, water, and flickering foam, racing the seagulls that hover above his head.He would raise his head, step forward across the ground, and the birds in the air would circle and dive, and then fly ten yards in front of him with a flap of wings, always a little farther than him, and Ashley could catch up Getting more and more out of breath, I had to stop and pant, and run a thousand yards along the bank.He sucks in air.The icy waves crashed over his calf, and seagulls floated above him. Ashley races against everything.He raced the sailboats nearly two miles from shore; he raced the breeze and his own shadow.He raced Price, T. Howard Somervell, and the strongest mountaineers in Europe, chasing them neck and neck on imaginary ridges, or imagining, angrily, that if he slacked off even a little bit, he would be in Everett. The North Col of Les Peak was overtaken by Price.Later, Ashley thought that these people were not fast enough, so he and Paavo.Rumi (Pavvo Nurmi) or Eric.Race famous runners like Eric Liddell, or any runner you hear on the radio. Most of the time, though, he ran because of her, or because pain drove him, for pride was as cruel as pain.He raced against imaginary rivals, faceless phantoms who were always faster than he, tall and lean, with limbs and muscles like athletes.Ashley could only defeat them through sheer willpower. He knew that although he was physically weaker, his willpower was stronger, and when he was in a good mood, Ashley would let him win.Because he wants her more than they do.He almost has such a longing for the mountain. It is you. Price patted Ashley on the shoulder, then pulled the opposite chair and sat down.He hung the briefcase on a hook under the table. Sorry for being late.Price went on to say: Just had another fight with Hinks 2. 2. Arthur Hinks (1873︱1945), Secretary of the Royal Geographical Society and Everest Committee in 1924. What's the noise? Money, same as before.That guy thought I could just keep risking my life with the same gear I had two years ago.what do you drink?Bitter? Price went to the bar and returned with two glasses of ale. How strange to see you in England, Ashley.You look great.Where do you live now? Rented a few rooms just around the corner. So you're finally settling down here? No.Ashley smiled.Not at all. It seems to be too beautiful.How about Wells?I heard about your training.You've become more serious as you get older.Did you actually hire a trainer?Farrar 3 tell me 3, should refer to J. P． Farrar (1857︱1929), British mountaineer, member of the Everest Committee, and chairman of the British Mountaineering Association from 1917︱1919. Nothing like that.Ashley interrupted.But my physical fitness is better than before. Great.Be as prepared as possible. I know. Price patted Ashley on the back. I said, it's great to see you back home in England.How are you doing here? Well enough.I'm in a bad mood. That's normal.You have been away for a long time.But the committee has a lot of faith in you.In fact, the progress of this year's mountaineering team is much faster than last time.Those old fools all agreed that this was the time to set Mount Everest. What do you think? Price hesitated.He took a swig of beer. You know what, I hope they don't let me go.Regardless of the committee or any organization, any reason is fine, just don't let me go back. You can refuse. I can."But when Everest has you, it's not that easy to give up," Price confessed. Price frowned, scratching the wood grain of the table with his nails.He looked up at Ashley. You must have seen that mountain with your own eyes.So you get the point.The Himalayas are not the Alps.Mount Everest is not as simple as being 13,000 feet taller than Mont Blanc.It's impossible for a guy like Hinks to understand.We shouldn't be staying in cozy hotels in the first place, or being chubby like pink-cheeked schoolchildren.The trip through Tibet alone was scary enough.By the time we get to base camp, half of us will be in bad shape.And height.We can't be sure how uncomfortable that will be, but it should be somewhere between dizziness and nausea and death.Finally there is climbing.The colonel thought we should climb up in his way, but I wanted another way.We should address this when crossing plateaus.But neither of us actually knew the above situation. Price pauses, doubt clouding his face. You already knew what I said. I know to be afraid. Price said with a surprised expression: Scared?Are you afraid?Half of the reason the committee didn't let you in last time was because they thought you were going to bring disaster to everyone.They say you're too bold, so when judging I know what they said.Ashley interrupted him.But I'm still afraid.Like you said, that's not the Alps, and I've never been there.No matter how much I read about Everest or the Himalayas, it's still a big secret to me.Not just height.Everything is different there.the way glaciers flow You can do it.Your intuition has always been strong. There is another thing.Ashley said: I keep dreaming about that mountain. Price waved his hand nonchalantly. Everyone has had that dream. Maybe.But you tell me, Hugh.I know why I'm going, but what about you?Why go back if you don't want to?If it's so scary there, why go back? Price took another sip of his drink.He shrugged. Let's talk when you get there.You'll find out in due time. They had a second beer, and Price said he had to go.The two shook hands on the sidewalk.After Price's taxi left, Ashley walked back to the tavern and ordered a double shot of Vat 69 whiskey.Although the bartender didn't see Ashley's face, but he recognized his voice or clothes, he poured whiskey and said, "Don't you want to go, sir?" I guess so. Ashley opened the newspaper and put it on the bar.When the bartender brought the wine to him, Ashley pushed away a panel above the bar; after the board was opened, Ashley saw the bartender's eyes.The other was older, bald, with a bushy gray mustache and a thick red neck.The bartender's collar button was unbuttoned and his tie loosened. You know, said Ashley: Tonight is the first time I've been in the little bar in five years. Then I think you have the right to make up for wasted time. The bartender was wiping glasses with a white cloth.Through the opened panel, Ashley saw the guests in the popular bar area, some of those men were wearing flat hats, some were not wearing hats, all of them turned their backs to him.A woman's voice came from the other side, but Ashley couldn't see her face.He flipped through the newspaper and noticed a column. ▲▲▲ Mail from Mount Everest How to Get Letters Affixed with the Peak Special Stamp ∮ A completely different avalanche threatens everest, who is leaving england next friday Member of the Peak Expedition.They are specially designed and printed a beautiful postage stamp, and I've can be announced through authorization, anyone who spends For a few pennies, you can own a card from Egypt Forrest Peak stamp.snowflake letters has begun to float.Expedition dedicated photographer Captain Knoll's description of the plan is as follows Ashley patted the newspaper triumphantly, pushed it towards the bartender, and smiled mischievously. I ask you one thing.Have you heard about climbing Mount Everest in the Himalayas? certainly.It was written all over the papers. Then you may be interested: the man sitting with me just now is the mountaineer Hugh.Price.In fact, he is the best mountaineer in Britain.It was he who found the way to Mount Everest and was the leader of the next expedition. Price.The bartender repeated his words.Is he the one who killed all the porters last time? 4 4. In 1922, the second British expedition to Mount Everest attempted to reach the summit three times, but they were all unsuccessful.Among them, an avalanche occurred during the second summit attack, killing seven Sheba porters. There was an avalanche, yes.some porters got swept away They didn't climb that mountain, did they? right. If you ask me, it sounds like a waste of effort.Go climb a mountain and say you did it.Is he going to try again? he wants.The expedition departs next Friday. The bartender shrugged.He has his own choice. indeed. Ashley read the rest of the article, which was to promote the expedition photographer's feature film for Mount Everest, which would be shown when the team triumphantly returned to England.Ashley ordered a double shot of whiskey again, and the bartender pushed the drink in front of him. Are you going too, sir?You will climb that mountain too. That's right.how do you know? I guessed it when you mentioned it.I think I saw your picture in the paper too.I remember your face.Very serious.And you haven't been to the cantina in years. certainly.Are you the boss here? It has been in business for eleven years. Ashley nodded and took a sip of whiskey.He watched absently as the bartender wiped his glass.Ashley took out his wallet from his coat pocket. My name is Worthingham.I live just around the corner, at the Lansdowne Apartments. Ashley counted five ten-pound notes and placed them on the bar. Watch out for my news in the papers.Ashley continued: Because I'm going to climb Mount Everest.The first thing I'm going to do when I get back to London is go to this pub and use the money to buy champagne for everyone here.People on both sides want it.do you have champagne no sir. Well, never mind, I'll pay for whatever they want to drink.But if I don't climb that mountain, I'll come back and get the money back as a consolation prize.You have nothing to lose anyway.How about this? You are very generous, sir. Ashley pushed the money forward, then shook hands with the boss. One more thing.If I don't come back you'll hear the news and you'll spend the money on all the people in the public bar area drinking all night, the night you know I'm dead.Remember, it's all going to buy wine until it runs out. The boss is a little hesitant, and may not be too happy with the final agreement.But in the end Ashley convinced him. When Ashley left the bar, he only felt a little unsteady.He stopped on the sidewalk, testing his balance, looking up for the moon.Long clouds glide across the night sky. Ashley touched his coat pocket.He'd left his wallet somewhere, perhaps at lunch in a club, or on the bar in a bistro.not here.Ashley took the wallet in his hand and walked across Gilver Street to Lansdowne's apartment.With some difficulty he unlocked the front door and went upstairs two steps at a time.In the living room, he slumps into a large armchair in the corner, which is not his chair, since the apartment was originally fully furnished.Next to him was an electric light with a mica shade, but he didn't turn it on. (I don't need light,) he thought. (I can go all night without light.) Arc lights flickered outside the undrawn window, bright white enough for Ashley to see the newspaper.But the above content could not attract his attention.He is not tired at all.He could read a book from his bedroom, but he knew it wouldn't distract him.Ashley thought about taking out the fifty pounds at the counter on Cannon Street today, and now the banknotes are stuffed in the pocket of the thick-necked boss.He will go to the bank tomorrow to get some more cash.He'd find another clerk, or the same clerk, but no one would know he was spending the rest of his cash on a stupid bet with some tavern keeper. Ashley dropped the newspaper on the ground.He thought of the five years he had been away from England.Now he's back, so that time is nothing, even if he's gone for ten years, the result will still be the same.So is training.Now that the training is over, those hardships have almost become fictional. All that can be proved is his strong body. No matter what strenuous things he does now, he hardly even catches his breath. Ashley thought about his current physical state. He sat on an armchair in a dimly lit room, looking at the Cologne Playground. His suitcase and travel bag were still in the corner and hadn't been opened yet.Bet: fifty pounds.Also, why did he leave for five years.Why did he fight against what he felt was unfair.Ashley didn't dare to think about it directly, because it was like viewing a solar eclipse through smoked gray glass. You can only see it indirectly, so as not to damage your eyesight. (It can't be just for her,) he thought. (Must have been there long before we met.) But even if it wasn't because of her, something was tied to the memory of her, because no other force could have given him such adaptability.And the ability to do stupid things.Risking your whole life for a boring challenge, thinking you can conquer the Drang, Rub Khali, or Mount Everest, when in reality you are just a child to them, and you need them to show mercy now and then. escape.It doesn't really accomplish anything except monkeying with your self-esteem.Go climb a mountain and say you did it.Ashley tries to think back to the early days when everything was different, when he simply loved being out in the wild and not needing to compete with nature.Did the war change him?That's superficial, because he's always liked to win, yet this obsession with conquest seems to come after the war and it's not even conquest, but wanting to avoid defeat, refusing to submit to a greater power, this mentality has been hanging over him. This was a big mistake, Ashley knew it well.But if it doesn't go on he can't stand himself if he loses his nerve or withdraws.He was most afraid of this kind of thing happening, even beyond death.It was as if a desert was waiting for him. At first he only cared about the goal he was pursuing, as if a city lost in the sand was waiting for him.Later, when he knew he would never find that ghostly city, the remaining question was how long he could endure without giving up, and what it felt like to last for a small thing.Yin Mozhen is not a trivial matter.Yet he became even crazier because of her, and after the war he spent months searching in vain, begging her family and friends to give him answers, but he knew they would tell him nothing, and he suspected they would. have no idea.When Ashley went to Kenya, he had given up on this matter because he knew she didn't want to be found, so he didn't want to look for her again. Ashley remembered his first night with Emmaine, when they went to Regent's Park to find the keys.They walked through the entire West End until the sky above the roof of the Haymarket Hotel turned dark blue, and Emmogen wrapped her arms around Ashley.He saw their reflections in the dark glass of a tobacconist's shop, with Emmozhen close to him, clutching his arm.For the first time in his life, Ashley felt that he was being seen with the woman he loved when a boy appeared on the street on a bicycle with a newspaper and stared at them for a long time as he passed.He thought this feeling would last for the rest of his life.The results lasted less than a week. What made Ashley different?Why wouldn't he settle down in the Berkshires to write poetry and prune rose bushes, or eat lamb chops at a club in Palmer Street for lunch every day?Was it his own strength, or was it his stubbornness and stupid pride that made him like this?No matter what it was, he always felt that he was one step away from the satisfaction in his heart, and he guessed that Yin Mozhen had been happy long ago, she didn't have to risk her life to feel alive, and she didn't have to know who she was.And what would he be without this love for her, without this desperate passion that made him brave, back down, brave again? Ashley turned on the light and opened a Nepali teaching book.He will study until he falls asleep.Everything will be answered soon.