Chapter 8 06／Winter Rhapsody

In the end, I'm sick of people who don't think they can be anything, including myself, who only do what they have to do instead of what they can put their heart into doing.I catch from them the loneliness that radiates at the end of each wasted day.I know I can do better. mark.Twitter "I Hurt, Therefore I Am" * The next twelve months after I left the company were the luckiest for me. As a result of our 2002 expedition to Mount Denali, I was fortunate enough to join the marshall, charlie and tony line-up of stray dogs, the elite adventure athletes.I assisted Captain Gary with everything from early trip preparations, food ordering and flight reservations, to cooking, cleaning, shelter building, carrying cargo and climbing moment-to-moment decisions.In addition to being a resilient supergroup with the ability to learn super fast on high glacier climbs, the Stray Dogs also taught me valuable lessons about group dynamics.I learned from that trip that I love leading groups and teaching people all about the wilderness.

When I returned to Colorado after my trip to Alaska, my interest in mountain guidance solidified.I especially love showing off the unexplored wild west.I was leading a camping and mountaineering trip around Aspen with two less experienced friends from Chicago.Friends from Florida saw wilderness for the first time when I traveled to the Escalante Desert in Utah with me.Once I took the gear, and the famous Colorado landscape photographer John.Feld is on expeditions and John is a wilderness ambassador, taking people around the world through his photography.He gave me the desire to take people there myself.

I decided to return to Denali in 2003 to climb the West Arch with some friends from New Mexico, Colorado, and California.Our 2002 Captain Gary.Scott is the record holder for ascents of that mountain, climbing from the Cascina base camp at over 2,000 meters to nearly 6,200 meters in eighteen and a half hours in 1985. high peak.I knew I could move fast on that mountain, and after I'd climbed with Gary, his fascinating track record tempted me to go even faster.I made a plan, using the way our team tried to climb at a single speed in 2003, hoping to complete the first round-trip journey within 24 hours on that mountain.I spent the next year learning how to live my best life.

In November of 2002, I moved to Aspen and immediately got a job as a salesman at Ude Mountaineer.When I'm not doing Telemark skiing, cross-country skiing, mountaineering, or snowshoeing, I'm at work talking to clients about these outdoor activities (but I always share the best stories with my colleagues and managers).In addition to having a home that winter served as my headquarters for training and climbing nine of the most challenging 4,000-meter-plus mountains in Colorado, I was surrounded by a group of like-minded friends. ①Telemark: Telemark, the ski equipment produced by Backcountry Company, adopts ski equipment with unfixed heels, which can be used for uphill and downhill skiing.Using this ski allows skiers to change their kneeling posture when sliding downhill, allowing the skis to make turns in tandem.

One of the challenges I found interesting that winter was maintaining a balance between going out to town, going out to dinner parties, going out to concerts, and my training.I often squeeze in a three-hour cross-country ski break between shifts, so before work I'll be on my Telemark skis up one of Aspen's four ski hills, or after work, Go for a walk in the snowshoes, then catch some friends at the club and play until late at night.When there were no concerts in Aspen, my friends and I would head to Vail or take the long drive to Denver or Round Rock and then drive back overnight.There is no set pattern, so of course there are no monotonous, boring moments.

I fell in love with life in a ski town.My friends in town and I would write daily references to living our dreams.Although we lived on modest salaries in one of the most expensive places in the world, we used tricks, mutual favors and barter to ensure a high quality of life in Aspen.Our jobs gave us free ski passes two days a week, but we figured out how to ski five days a week and hike up to the lift above for free, where the passes wouldn't be scanned.When I'm not the first to ski on a powder day, I know where I can go to find untrodden snow.If you can't be the first to ski, then you must ski smart.Before I head out into the woods to find a favorite hiding place, I say this to anyone I meet on the lift.

②Powder snow: Powder day, the day when it has snowed or is snowing. Beyond the ski area, unlimited public lands give endless opportunities for outdoor recreation.It's hard to get free, but we get good discounts and deals anywhere in town: pro-level deals on top-of-the-line equipment, coffee shop pals who count on discounts for our nice people, friends who can throw fancy dinner parties, Bouncers and bartenders who gave us nods in exchange for free treats from familiar faces.We often had the best snow in those five years, which was a joy. As soon as winter officially arrived, my attention span narrowed, and I focused on my upcoming solo climb of a mountain above 4,000 meters above sea level.Both the routes and the mountains start at an advanced level, and the mountains get more treacherous as winter approaches.Aside from my good luck at work, my roommates, friends, and fun parties and concerts, I'm also lucky to have someone who doesn't mind the hours I put in when I travel to the backcountry guardian angel.

My mountaineering began the day after Christmas when I climbed and skied Castle Peak and Riddle Peak on two adjacent mountains above 4,000 meters. I did two backcountry walks.A journey through what Dawson called the Valley of Death. The chance of avalanches increased over New Years so on January 9th I decided to change my route when I was camping just below the beautiful North Face of the North Malan.Despite the blizzard blowing copious amounts of fresh snow into the steep west hill flat at 4,200m, I chose to climb the west side of Pyramid Peak instead.The chances of an avalanche are high, waiting for a human named Alan to set foot on the wrong part of the hill.

I descended from the summit ridge, twisting my body with my gloved hands, balancing on loose mudstone slabs, and descended deftly across a four-and-a-half-meter cliff band.When I let go of my clenched hands, I fell onto a rock jutting ninety centimeters wide.After stabilizing myself, I cautiously descended another three meters to the edge of the windy snow field.From the beginning of the snow field to the place where the trees grow, it is a thrilling downhill road all the way.When I climb, I have to take different and inefficient routes than I used to go up the mountain in order to avoid avalanche-prone areas that can be as thick as thirty centimeters deep.I finally descended safely, pushing the snow onto the slopes below me, letting it loosen and crumble like sea foam, all the way down.My winter climbs have never failed.I've always been lucky enough to land safely on the rocks. Every step I take back may quickly fall into the basin. If I am unlucky and trigger an avalanche, the chances of injury are high. range of potentially hazardous areas.

Pyramid Peak is just the beginning. I have climbed mountains over 4,000 meters in succession for a month, and I have a close experience on each mountain.I took a wrong route as I made my way up the Santa Croce crossing, and I was stranded at 4,200 meters in freezing temperatures after dark.I camped on a 60-centimeter-wide rock, which is just below the canyon that separates the two peaks of 4,200 meters above sea level, but above a deep valley that is more than 450 meters long.I squat down to fuel up with a hot sports drink and instant mashed potatoes.Nineteen kilometers had brought me to the northern summit of Canyon Mountain, but since there were no tents, I planned to reach a sheltered rock wall on the southern summit before dark.However, the deep pile of snow and the wrong manual to traverse the east (should be west) side of the summit on the south side slowed me down so I used up all my energy stores and water on the way.By the time I was sure I was going in the wrong direction, I was too tired to retrace my way to the canyon again.

A fussy fuel bottle O-ring cost me even more.Without my knowledge, the rubber gasket got caught in the fuel line insertion hole, and when I opened the valve, the fuel leaked into the snow.I lost three quarters of the fuel without knowing it, no wonder the stove fire was so weak.As I quickly popped that sticky O-ring in my mouth and tried to get it out, I saw a blizzard coming from the west.I have to get to the shelter right away but I need energy and without water I can't eat anything I have to get the stove running right.At that time, I thought that there are many ways to present the moment of life and death.Sometimes it's obvious: the distance between you and a bolt of lightning, the fact that you were wearing your seatbelt when you hit a deer at 128 kilometers an hour, or a friend's quick reflexes saved you from drowning in the Colorado River inside.Sometimes it's subtle, or even imperceptible: Your DNA sequence fends off a virus you didn't even know you had, or you decide to climb a different mountain to avoid being hit by a stone on that route. arrive.We live our lives ignoring these little things, dodging millions of disasters every day, without realizing that we were once in danger.And then it's not until we have the experience of the nitty-gritty that we can clearly understand what that split second means.I knew my stove was my lifesaver on that rock, and most likely a big part of getting me down.I had to fix the fuel line seal. ③O-ring: Generally, it is a compound of synthetic rubber, and its main purpose is to seal and prevent gas loss. Pulling the three-millimeter O-ring out of my mouth, I carefully inspected the deformed part.While I was holding it, the condition of my body caused me to drop the important piece into the dark.That moment of life and death was just suddenly and startlingly apparent.I dread to think that the O-ring I missed has fallen off the rock.I lit the ground with my headlamp, and my ungloved fingers poked and poked in the snow until I found the little black rubber seal.Five minutes later, with the stove whirring as I melted the snow, I knew I had a fighting chance again. The longer I fought in the blizzard, the harder it became to cross the canyon mountain.The wind and blowing snow made it impossible for me to take off the goggles, but with them, the visible light from my headlamp was cut in half and I couldn't see well in the dark.I continued to wear the goggles and took them off occasionally to find the most efficient line.An hour into the steep traversing route, there was an invisible drop to my right, over a thick snowfield below a rocky cliff with visibility of just four meters.I tried to move up to that rock, but only got 12 meters forward, the difficulty of that rock formation overwhelmed my confidence.I backed off looking for an easier path.Although I was used to climbing difficult terrain in flex-toe Telemark ski boots, my skills did not allow me to challenge the vertical fifth grade in the dark with a heavy pack.I spent another hour scouring the cliffs for a proper exit up to the southern summit, and my strength was weakened again.When I got to the rock shelter and found it was full of snow, I was too tired to shovel.I spread out my sleeping bag, climbed in, and passed out. The next morning, the blizzard passed, but I doubted I would be able to cross the Harlow Ridge of Holy Cross twice.According to the design of the route, I have to climb three peaks each above 4,000 meters to reach the main peak, and then return from these same subordinate peaks.To get back to the shelter, I had to follow the same route back to the summit of Canyon Hills and back to my car.All told, I had to climb nine 4,000-meter-plus peaks before getting back to my skis, and then walk another fourteen kilometers downhill.Since I only had enough fuel left in my stove to melt two liters of water to prepare oatmeal and protein shakes for breakfast, I rationed my remaining five candy bars (that's the only instant food I had left, and it was just half the amount I need). The calm and sunny weather outside and the beautiful surroundings filled me with confidence.Five hours later, I had unexpectedly circumnavigated three peaks and reached the summit of Holy Cross, where I could easily observe the ski area and main summit of Moose Mountain near Aspen to the southwest.When climbing, I rely on good health, acclimatization, and pace adjustments to keep my energy needs in check.I found that if I could avoid unnecessary movement and maintain a consistent pace, my stamina would eventually get me through.An hour after summiting, I retrace my tracks along a gentle ridge, and I return to the boulders on the southern satellite summits of Santa Croce.About six meters from the windward side of the steep drop-off, at the horseshoe-shaped rock, I stepped into a shallow footprint I had made on my ascent. Suddenly, the snow in front of me burst into pieces.Instinctively I jumped onto the solid ground to my right.The snow cracked along the inside horseshoe edge of the rock, the swiftly moving crack tracing a semicircle from the other side of the field to where I stepped a second earlier.When I jumped onto the rock and came to the safety of the tundra nearby, the entire snow field seemed to be torn apart and disappeared. The disintegration of the wall made no sound other than the initial rupture.I gaze cautiously down the cliff below, a hundred and fifty-two meters below the ridge, and the debris of the fallen wall is scattered on the snow slopes above the frozen shores of Lake of Tears Basin.I moved carefully, thinking of the disaster I had just escaped.The image of my crumbled body buried in a pile of snow rocks flashed through my mind.There was no way I would have survived that fall.I wonder.My head would be pounded, crushed under a thousand kilos of wall fragments.The scariest part about that avalanche is that I didn't know the wall when I went up the mountain, and the chances of the ledge collapsing are pretty high.Ninety-one meters up the ridge, I looked back and saw my footprints going straight into the abyss. With my repacked backpack and back over the middle peak and the two peaks of Canyon Mountain, I reached my stash of skis at dusk and slid the remaining fourteen kilometers and twelve hundred verticals under silvery moonlight. meter.About nine o'clock in the evening, fast down the wide trail of the Summer Entrance Road, I scare away a moose in the slopes.It jumped into the forest in a hurry, advancing a little nervously over a meter or so of snow, in stark contrast to my clumsy, slow pace, and it took me a moment to appreciate the moose's prowess. The Tuesday after the 48km trip to Santa Croce, my roommate Brian was in critical condition after a bad skiing accident.Not long after I arrived to visit Brian at Aspen Valley Hospital, I found my friend RobGuber was there too.He crushed his right arm, wrist and hand in a snowboarding session.Brian spent eight days in intensive care with collapsed lungs, crushed kidneys and broken two dozen out of six ribs.Rob was hospitalized for two weeks.After visiting Brian and Rob twice, I left on Thursday night to drive to Round Rock to climb Longs Peak.Longs Peak is a shorter but more technical route than Harlow Ridge.I care about my friends' health, but their accident also reminds me of how lucky I have been on my recent travels. On my list, Santa Croce is the last 4,200-meter-plus mountain in the Swatch Mountains; Langs Mont is my last peak in the Frans Mountains.Me and my friend Scott.Together, McLean and McLean attempted to climb the northern cable route (a cableway built in the 1930s to help hikers climb higher mountains in the most direct way).But blizzard winds blocked the passage, and we did not reach Pebble Field and our camp until evening.Unfortunately, the altitude of 3,840 meters made Scott uncomfortable, and a malfunctioning furnace made matters worse.I put a packet of stewed lentils on my stomach to warm up, but it wasn't enough to restore energy to our bodies.By the next morning, rest had done little to assuage Scott's discomfort, so we cautiously abandoned our journey and turned back for hot food. The next morning, Saturday, Scott drove me to the same trailhead, which he planned to return within ten hours.So I went up the trail by myself, ready to climb alone.Longs Peak is so unique that the exposure to the wind is so long that it is best climbed without skis.Up to 3,962 meters, I walked around the keyhole for the first time in eight years, and I saw that the stone slabs on the windward side, the tall towers on the west, and the ridge on the north were all covered with thick frost.The wind speed increases on the mountain peaks, and the air cools below the dew point ④. When supercooled water (water with a temperature below freezing point) is suddenly poured into the mountains, every surface exposed to the air will be frosted.The biggest feature of the pillow-shaped ice mushrooms on the ridgeline is that they are mostly exposed to the blizzard wind from the west, especially along the main vein of the rock all the way to the top of the deep valley and the west side of Narrows.The route I took this time was the same as the route I took to climb the first mountain above 4,200 meters above sea level. ④ Dew point: Dew Point, under a fixed air pressure, the gaseous water contained in the air reaches saturation and condenses into liquid water. Since I hadn't put on my crampons or removed my second ice ax from my pack, I chose a path that would allow me to avoid the freezing rain that was too thin for Homestreet, with sixty meters of steep slopes along the way. , and a chain of rocks, ending in a vertical tubular chasm.With my legs pressed against the right wall and my back against the left wall of the tubular opening, I removed my pack to squeeze myself to the top of the tubular opening.My climbing skills can go up, but my basketball skills let me down. I flung my pack over the ledge of the chasm and onto the summit.But that's not a good idea.I didn't drop hard enough and my pack hit the ledge and fell towards my left.The backpack fell 30 meters, made a pothole in the snow to my left, and continued to slide down, heading towards a 600-meter-deep canyon at a fast speed.I watched in disbelief as the pack stopped suddenly, caught in a sixty-centimeter-wide crack in the middle of a rock slab. My surprise at this luck faded away when I remembered that my crampons and ice ax were in my pack.I ascended the ledge first and walked to the highest recognizable point on the nearby plateau to take a few photos.Then my feet dangled from a huge boulder on Longs Peak's famous diamond face, putting my frustrations aside and enjoying the amazing drop beneath my feet.But in the back of my mind, all I could think about was how to get my backpack back. A few minutes later, I arrived at Homestray.With my lips pursed and my brow furrowed, I took the first five steps, facing outside, from the mountains into the storm clouds.I soon encountered smooth ice covered by loose snow that had turned the only usable foothold into slippery goo.I turned to face the slab to my right, my left foot searching for a grip.I watched my feet, trying to ignore the menacing canyon behind me, and slapped some of the snow off the little protrusions holding up my boots.Three more steps down, tapping my ice ax into the centimeter-thick icy goo, while my hand reached the insertion behind a rock.I turned out again, keeping my lower body in contact with the slab, and hurried down to another small snow-covered rock. I had to descend another nine meters onto two thin sheets of rock that were separated from their adjoining sheets.I have two options: face down on the rock sheet, move to the left, I can move a few steps carefully, then I have to traverse the four meter long rock sheet to go back to the right, so I will have no shelter, there No snow or ice; alternatively, I could just go down to the snow trough to the right of the slab and follow the normal uphill/downhill route, skipping the unsheltered slab traverse. (Follow the snow; there's no handhold on that slab; it's too dangerous.) I managed to find firm footing as I moved my feet down into the ditch.I was still facing outward, with my back against the snow, my arms outstretched to the sides of the ditch, my hands pressed against the taupe granite, palms down.My ice ax dangles from a chain near my left wrist, jingling as it hits the rock every time I swing my upper body forward to reposition my hands further away.After moving about three meters effortlessly, the heel of my left boot skimmed some ice hidden under the snow.I lowered my body until my right foot was fully under my butt and extended my left foot further into the ditch, but it would slip every time.I really should have put on those crampons. With the head of the ice ax in my left hand, I drove the pickaxe part into the snow, driving it into the rock.Weighing the weight of the ice axe, I can extend my left foot another fifteen centimeters, although I can't find a foothold that is free of ice.Just when I blamed myself for dropping my backpack, I made a mistake.My right hip moved so far forward it caused my right boot to lie flat on the snow causing the snow to peel off the grass and I fell. Instinctively, I rolled onto my stomach, clutching the handle of the ice ax with my right hand.I'm in the anti-fall position, but my body slides under the ice ax, my feet slip on the rock, my weight falls on the ice ax and the ice ax suddenly displaces, and I slide down to the forty-degree slope rock slices.The speed of the slide picked up, and I could feel the crystals of granite sucking into my waterproof pants just below my knees.In my closed eyes, I seem to see the abyss of the canyon behind me, and I gasp.The time has come.I wonder.I am dead. I tried to stop myself by driving the ice ax into the rock, rotating my shoulders until my full weight was on the ice ax, and I squeezed it so hard it made a horrible, steely screech against the rock.I squinted hard as I gripped the ice ax; I couldn't take it all: seeing the rock slide faster and faster, and I fell backwards down the steep face, bouncing like a rag doll Into the 600-meter crack. The ice ax screeched for a long time, and suddenly it caught something and I stopped with a jerk.No further fall left me flabbergasted and paralyzed.Still holding my breath, I opened my eyes cautiously, convinced that even a twitch of my eyelids might end this brief salvation, causing me to plummet to my death.I first saw that I was still on the ordinary rock slice, only sliding down the rock for about two body lengths.What saved me?In this unlikely position?I turned my head to the left, peeked under the handle of the ice ax and saw nothing.From the looks of it, I squeezed the ice ax into the granite reasonably hard, and I just blended it with the bare rock.There is no other explanation.There were no rock outcrops, no humps, no ledges, no rocks, no cracks; only granite, rough as unfinished cement, pulled me back from the brink of death.I couldn't believe it, and gasped for a while because my body needed oxygen.It took a full minute before I dared to move, and only my head, as I stared at the escape route to my left rear. I don't know how I'm going to change my grip and get to the rocks behind a boulder to my left.But soon, I stood up and carefully inspected the rest of the descent.I'm sure I didn't look at the canyon, but kept concentrating on the rest of the traverse below the two rock sheets.Shortly after arriving at the first rock sheet, I discovered more ice beneath the eight-meter snowfield.I desperately grabbed the top edge of the slab with my right hand and swung the ice ax in my left, using it to carve the toe of my boot for footing as I descended across the ice.Ten minutes later, I crossed Homestray, the final hurdle, and retook my path up the mountain, finally arriving at the crack where my pack had stuck.I immediately removed my crampons from my pack, strapped them to my boots, and resumed climbing the slab.I was finally ready to go down the mountain, and when I got down, I went to meet Scott. In four weeks, I arranged two technical routes and three long-distance routes, including skiing in the northeast basin of Snowmass Mountain (Snowmass Mountain, another mountain above 4,000 meters above sea level in Moose Mountain). To face the biggest challenge in my project: climbing Congress Peak solo.According to experience, Capitol Peak has the most difficult section of climbing among all the mountains above 4,000 meters above sea level. (Deadly Bells)) are just as dangerous.But I know the method, I know the snow, and my fitness and adaptability are at their peak. This mountain is famous for its blade-shaped ridge: 4114 meters high and 90 meters long ridge descends 457 meters eastward, down to the steep snow cornice ⑤ groove, at Peel Lake Ends above the basin; descends 762 meters west to Capitol Lake.While this orientation gives bladed ridges a bad reputation, the hardest part of the climb is after the ridge, in the higher triangular portion of the mountain. ⑤ Snow eaves: Cornice, the snow that usually appears on the top of a mountain or on a ridge, protrudes due to being pushed by the wind, showing frozen waves like hanging. On February 7, 2003, I woke up from sub-zero temperatures in my camp near the frozen rocks of Moon Lake.I went up the mountain in freezing conditions, and despite my alpine touring gear, the slope was so steep that my ski straps couldn't grip the slope.I was still at 3,962 meters, so I took off my skis, piled them on my pack, and lumbered through the unfathomable snow.Cut trenches one to two meters deep on the 40-degree snow slope, all the way up, and finally come to the 4,145-meter-high secondary peak, known locally as K2.Leaving my skis on K2, anticipating a long snowy descent, I continued on the blade ridge with snowshoes and crampons.Halfway through, I came to a disturbingly steep ridgeline with a clear cornice to the left.Since the wind is predominantly westerly here, the snow has solidified into a cantilevered overhang extending east of the ridge. At the apex of the ridge I've been in a straddle position in order to traverse it.But in the cornice, I had to use my skills and change positions quickly to keep moving forward with my ice ax tethered to the pillar.While my weight was balanced on either side of the Knife and safely perched, the cornice continued to break under my left foot, making room with startling silence.Each collapse shakes to the edge of the knife-edge in my crotch.I didn't need to look to know that the coffee table-sized chunk of solid snow was falling silently from just below my left hip.I focused on the rhythm of putting my right foot into the crevasse, then arched and moved forward fifteen to thirty centimeters.In no time, I was over the Knife, happy to finish the daunting traverse quickly, I pulled my digital camera out of my jacket to take a selfie, and the big smile on my face said it all. For the last 152 meters, I dug my way up.At 12:45, I climbed to the summit of the National Congress and fulfilled a five-year dream.My whole plan is only to the day when I reach the summit of this mountain safely.I have soloed forty-three mountains over 4,200 meters in winter, and that was just the test part of the project.On the descent I had to traverse the blade for the second time, so after an exhilarating video I quickly descended from the high point and got back to my skis on top of K2.As the hours wore on and the higher parts of the mountain cast cryopreservation-like shadows, I had to occasionally remove my gloves to knock the ice off their linings.Cutting trenches in the snow and lumbering forward on the mountain have already wetted the gloves. As the temperature gradually drops, the snow in the gloves quickly freezes into ice. Down the K2 with the skis on, I no longer worry about my hands, I worry about the stability of the snow. The K2 turnaround and Harvard Hill's first slope are some of my favorite ski downhills in the few backcountry areas.However, when I got back to camp at Moon Lake, something was wrong with my hands. No matter what I tried, my hands never warmed up again.I put my hands on the stove and let the flames melt my gloves, but my hands still didn't feel any warmth.Remove the melted fabric, I know something is wrong. I hurried out of camp without eating any food.I am not afraid of frostbite; I accept what has happened and just hope to minimize any further damage.I have climbed each peak in my own style, and for the past thirty hours I have satisfied my mountain climbing craving.Eight of my fingers, including two thumbs, were partially or completely frostbitten as part of that adventure.I didn't understand the extent of the injury at the time.I put on dry-lined gloves to protect my nearly useless hands from the cold for the eleven kilometers downhill. When I got home to Aspen, I didn't go to the hospital (I should) and chose to treat the frostbite myself.First, I took four pills of specific pain relievers to prepare myself for the next steps.I waited half an hour for the medication to take effect, then filled the kitchen sink with hot water.I put my hands in the sink for an hour and watched my fingers turn from white to black, red, orange and green, and the throbbing pain made me scream.Sometimes I have to put my left hand on my right wrist to keep it from jerking off the hot water and my hand is more damaged and I'm in more pain.The roommates weren't there, and my neighbors must have been either, or they might have called the police thinking there was a murder.An hour later, I prayed repeatedly for blisters to form under the skin of my fingers.The presence of blisters means that the tissue under the skin has had a chance to recover, although not completely back to its original shape; the absence of blisters, on the other hand, means that the frostbite is severe and I may lose parts of my fingers.One after the other, excruciatingly painful blisters emerged from the end of each finger, mostly spreading to the first joint, painful as it was, but I was grateful for the fire-burning bumps. Although I still have two peaks in the Moose Mountains, I have not climbed Malangzhong Mountain.I decided that I would take five weeks off from climbing alone.Before my fingers grow new protective cortex, I have a lot to do: The Fish Orchestra is touring out west for the first time in three years; a few friends and I from New Mexico are planning a trip to the cabin; and , Telemark skiing with my good friends from Aspen.Even during downtime, my life has never been less adventurous. Two weeks after I climbed Capitol Peak, I headed to a mountain range east of Santa Croce with six friends from the Albuquerque Mountain Rescue League and five of their relatives for our annual backcountry ski trip. This year's destination is Fleuria's Lodge on Resolution Hill above Camp Hull.We met in Leadville and distributed food and drinks to be taken to the lodge in backpacks.The 10th Mountain Division Lodge is named after the ski infantry regiment that fought at the Battle of Riva Ridge in Italy during World War II.Their main training camp for those two years was Camp Hull.Many veterans have returned to Colorado, where their passion for skiing and familiarity with the area helped advance the post-war development of the ski area.The ski areas of Breckenridge, Vail and Aspen are the largest part of Tenth Mountain's Veteran Enterprises.However, the huts in the backcountry were not built until the 1980s to commemorate the love these people had for their country, and that love led them to go overseas to defend freedom, which I consider to be the most glorious thing on that mountain . Sixty centimeters of fresh snow fell on the nine-kilometer passage to the hut.前進五個小時之後，我們抵達我們週末的家，然後吃了牡蠣、辣味魔嘴豆芝麻沙拉醬、蛤蜊和燻鮭魚餅乾等美食開胃小菜，還喝了三回的熱可可和杜松子酒。我望向小屋的方形窗外面，渴望在小屋正前方的決心峰東邊盆地走幾回。當言語化為行動時，我和兩位山區救援聯盟的同事，馬克．比佛利以及查德維克．史賓賽，一起扣緊雪靴，為短途登山做好準備。 我們三人從迎風的東北山脊往決心峰前進，啟程時間是下午四點五十分，剛過了五點十五分就順利登上三千六百四十二公尺的頂峰。天很快就黑了，馬克和我在等待查德維克抵達時，我們有五分鐘的時間，環視東邊分水嶺的山脊線，還有西邊的老鷹河流域以及聖十字峰。越過懷特河國家森林遊樂區再走四十八公里（但是從登山口開車要三個小時），就是我在亞斯本的家。我把我在冬季時單獨一個人攀登聖十字峰的經歷，還有滑下三千六百五十七公尺的鞍形山脊時看到駝鹿的事都告訴馬克。我也講到在前往岩石避難處途中，我所經歷的緊急露營地那段冒險故事，還有在登上哈洛山脊時所感受到的截然不同的喜悅。 這是我們第一次一起旅行，我知道馬克是我們救援小組裡最棒的登山好手之一。我欣賞他的登山技術和救援索具技巧、專業的醫療訓練和領導經驗。跟馬克分享我最近的登山細節，我承認我想要讓他留下深刻的印象，就像他曾以加拿大冰攀之旅讓我留下深刻印象一樣。他用一種認同但冷淡的回覆回答時，我感到訝異。他說：我沒辦法為你感到興奮，艾倫。我不會那樣登山。不過我想對你來說，那樣很棒只要你開心。 是啊，很開心。我正在實現我的夢想。 馬克的意思是，他並不嚮往冬天一個人登山，而且他想要確定我是為了正確的理由登山不是為了吹牛，或者得到別人欽佩的眼光，而是因為登山讓我感到開心。那是個檢驗。我很久以前就認同這理念，但是我仍感謝他的提醒。 查德維克一加入我們，我們就立刻擺好姿勢，和我們後面的駝鹿山脊一起拍了一張團體照。離開佈滿岩石的頂峰，馬克帶領我們由颳風的山脊往下走，由於覆蓋著薄薄的雪的關係，是條安全但並不吸引人的滑雪下坡路段。當我為了避開一個暴露在外的樹根而摔一跤時，我大聲對馬克說：嘿，這真令人討厭！我差點就在雪地裡倒栽蔥了。我向亞斯本的烏德公司借了一套新的滑雪板，很想在沒有人跡的盆地裡試試它們。打從我第一次解放我的腳跟，開始泰勒馬克滑雪，已經一年了。查德維克曾給我一些技巧上的指點，所以我很興奮地想秀給他看我進步了多少。離開山脊，我滑向我右邊，比較軟的雪地，我愈向四十度的盆地頂端滑去，雪就愈來愈深。 馬克停在我下面一點的山脊上。查德維克跟在我後面，到我右邊，和我平行往上滑。我們當中沒有一個人想挖一塊雪來檢查看看雪的穩定性，還有雪崩的可能性，但我整個冬季都在偏遠地區登山和滑雪，我有信心。成功登上海拔四千二百六十七公尺以上的高山，加上我在一連串九死一生的情況裡幸運生還，一種面對雪崩的傲慢態度早在我心中發酵。我們在潛在的雪崩區域裡散開來，因為一次只能有一個滑雪者出現在這樣的危險地帶。This is standard procedure.我抵達最低角度下滑線的最上方，這條線從三十八度開始，慢慢移到大約三十二度，在一簇大約二十株的成熟松樹之上。 我要在這裡滑雪。你要下來嗎？我跟查德維克說，他在很近的地方，我們可以用正常的聲調講話，馬克還在九十公尺外的山脊上。 I have no idea.你要如何回到小屋？看起來像是你必須往回滑。 我不要超過那些樹。我會停在那裡，然後從左邊回小屋。 馬克大聲說他不要滑到盆地。他要滑下山脊。我回他說：好！look at me!讓我的夥伴們知道我要滑進盆地裡了。我感到緊張，但我不確定是因為擔心雪崩或是因為想在這麼深的雪地中滑得根好的關係。過了一會兒，當我做第一個三次連續轉彎時，在起伏的雪地裡開路前進的愉悅感取代了我的膽怯。我加快速度，在較低角度的坡面做出短的半徑轉彎，當我經過我右手邊最高的樹時，我還對它發出輕蔑的聲音。樹下方另一段四百五十七垂直公尺的盆地引誘我繼續滑，只是我腿部的疲勞讓我停了下來。我轉身，回頭對查德維克大聲叫，他正在我上方九十垂直公尺：呀呼！marvelous.這雪太妙了！come down! 查德維克順著我的足跡，東倒西歪地在雪地中前進，在靠近頂部比較陡的地方跌了兩次，而馬克則從山脊上看著。我拿出相機，當查德維克來到比較緩和的坡面，順著我的足跡轉彎時，幫他拍了照。查德維克辛苦地喘著氣，勉強轉彎，然後停在我旁邊。哇，不簡單耶。我轉彎轉得很勉強，雪好深。 是啊，不過很棒，對吧？最後那幾個轉彎你看起來很厲害。我拍了幾張你的照片，你看看，我們的足跡像那樣一路往下滑。我大聲對馬克吼叫：快來，很棒！ 查德維克和我站在樹林的邊邊，看著馬克在我們足跡下方的盆地來回移動，還在他的滑雪板上彈跳著。馬克用滑雪板切割著雪，試著在轉彎時使出全身的力量一扭，搶先在所有人之前做出漂亮的滑行。馬克似乎滿意雪的穩定性，在上面的坡道上做了三個轉彎、下降、旋轉、站起來，仍然在滑雪，但在滑雪板上稍微休息。馬克接著又面帶微笑地完成他的連續演出。馬克精疲力竭後，突然在距離樹林大約九公尺的地方，撲通一聲跌坐在雪上。一聲空洞的轟隆聲從馬克下方的雪傳出來，我們都嚇了一大跳，聽見轟隆的聲音往往表示：你已經觸發了一場雪崩。但是我們周遭的雪仍在原位，沒有要崩塌的跡象。查德維克鬆了一口氣，開玩笑地說：你聽見了嗎？馬克的屁屁剛剛轟隆了一聲。 ha!查德維克，你往前跪在地上，我想拍一張你在雪地裡的照片。 我們上方響起柴油引擎的聲音或許只是一架噴射機的隆隆聲。 當我用相機對準查德維克，準備按下快門時，我注意到他的頭頂上有一團濃濃的空中飛沫，不停旋轉的雲狀物。接著，柴油引擎的隆隆聲進到我的耳朵裡，同一時間，我明白這轟隆隆的聲響和飛沫是怎麼回事了，我被一股從右後方來的力量重重一推，我的腳被擡起，接著被猛然摔到我左邊的坡道上，世界頓時陷入一片漆黑。 彷彿被卡車撞到，速度由零加速到三十，我張開眼睛，眼前一片雪白。我立刻知道我是頭往前滑下山坡，被埋在一堆雪裡，但過了好幾秒，我才想到自己是被雪崩帶走的。我一張開嘴就吸進一坨雪，雪卡在我喉嚨裡我快窒息了。我把雪吐出來，等著，直到透過雪看見一小片天空，我深深地吸了一口氣，然後屏住呼吸。我抵抗雪流動的拉力，試著反轉身體，讓頭部朝著山上方，那樣我才可以逆著正在攪拌的白色洪水游泳，但是我的滑雪板被不斷湧來的碎岩層拉住，我的雙腳被卡住動彈不得。我只能放鬆，好節省我的氧氣。在令人窒息的浪潮中出現一扇希望的窗之前，我默默地想著我的一生什麼時候會開始從我腦海閃過；幸運的是，這件事始終沒有發生。我接下來想的是：所以這就是身在雪崩裡的情形了。我希望自己能翻個筋斗，但是我卻貼著地面不住地往下滑。又過了幾秒。我必須呼吸，我倒抽了一口氣，滿嘴都是雪。 接著，當雪崩的速度慢下來後，我使勁拉扯雙臂，想把雙臂伸到雪的上方。由於雪杖腕帶拴住我的手腕，只有我的右手伸了出來。我手上的手套被扯掉了，前臂和手肘被埋在變硬的雪裡，身體其他部分也一樣。當我停止滑動時，我把頭往上一扭，臀部用力往前推，像蠍子一樣拱著我的背。我盯著山坡看，眼睛對著碎石子。我腦海冒出一個念頭：我活著耶！ 我喘著氣的身體止不住地起伏，被埋在雪裡的情況和滿嘴結實的雪讓我的身體急需氧氣。我吐出雪，繼續大口呼吸，但疲憊地喘氣之餘我仍想辦法大叫：我沒事！我沒事！崩塌下來的雪迅速和岩層結合在一起，把我包在一個堅挺的模子裡，壓迫著我的胸部，使我的身體除了右手和頭部之外，全都無法動彈。我推掉我面前的小碎石，往我的左邊看，看到小屋；往我的右邊看，是山坡。雪崩的碎石到處都是，但我找不到我的夥伴。查德維克！mark! 查德維克在我上方大聲回應。艾倫！mark! 我盡量把我的頭往左邊伸，瞄到查德維克大約在距離我三十公尺的上坡。我沒事！How are you?馬克呢？ I have no idea!查德維克的聲音聽起來像是被嚇壞了。 你脫身了嗎？ 還沒有，我正在挖我的雙腳！查德維克在崩塌的雪裡滾了好幾個筋斗，好不容易才重新站起來。當我繼續大叫馬克時，查德維克已經從他的背包上拿下鏟子，挖他的靴子和固定滑雪板的裝置。 查德維克，你看得到馬克嗎？ 看不到！ 我的護目鏡、鏟子和相機不見了，混亂當中被扯掉了。我的雪杖和右手手套也不見了，被埋在碎石裡。我希望馬克也掉了一些裝備，裝備的蹤跡會暗示他所在的位置，但是我們在這碎石堆裡都沒有看見任何屬於他的物品。 把你的發報器轉到搜尋模式，然後過來把我挖出來。我們需要兩個人都去找馬克。我大聲叫。理論上查德維克應該試著自己去找馬克，可是我無法把我自己挖出來，然後再把我的發報器轉到搜尋模式。到我可以轉到搜尋模式之前，除了馬克的之外，查德維克的發報器也會收到我的訊號，那樣就很難精確找到馬克的位置。 兩分鐘內，查德維克來到我身邊，挖出了我的左手。撐著點，艾倫！查德維克的情緒受到相當的震撼。我向他保證我沒事，並要他盡快挖出我的雙腳，然後把我的靴子從滑雪板上鬆開。 我站起來，看著巨大雪崩的範圍，我一時語塞。Oh, my god!查德維克。you see.我們上方垂直一百五十公尺，一個巨大的斷裂削過盆地的頂端，右邊看來有兩層樓那麼高，冰箱般大小的塊狀物亂七八糟堆在山邊，少數幾塊甚至像火車車廂一樣大。乍看之下，雪崩綿延好幾十公尺。接著，我看到它如何繼續延伸到左邊，延伸到我們遭到襲擊那裡的樹林後面，幾乎八百公尺的弧形直達遠處東南邊的山脊。數不清幾千公斤的雪垮下山坡。雪崩的規模令我的雙膝感到軟弱無力。在這大規模崩塌把我們掃到山下後，我們還要條理清楚地動員救援，幾乎是不可能的任務。但是馬克在哪裡呢？ 查德維克還在搜索盆地時，我跑到我們下方九公尺的一處臺地。天翻地覆後我們看不到雪原的下方。我仔細察看碎石，尋找任何可能的線索，但什麼都沒有雪崩已經把盆地掃到我們所在位置下方三百公尺遠，一路到小溪那裡。我的發報器設定在搜尋模式，我瘋狂地希望收到訊號，但是卻未能如願。我回頭對查德維克大聲叫，他已經開始移到右邊，距離我三十公尺遠。你的搜尋範圍有多大？ I have no idea. 把你的發報器轉到發射模式。我想確認我們可以分開多遠並正確接收傳送。靠著查德維克發射而我的發報器接收，我們可以建立我們的工作範圍。 你收到了嗎？he yelled.我可以聽見我們兩個人聲音當中的絕望。 not yet!正在傳輸中。 good!I am coming!I am coming! 那裡，三十八公尺！我的發報器在三十八公尺的地方接收到查德維克的頻率。可以了，轉回去到搜尋模式！我們以三十公尺多一點的範圍在一個超過六百零九公尺寬的雪崩區域裡搜索。最起碼，我們要在這塊雪崩地區裡上下五回，才能搜索完全部的碎石區域。但已經沒有時間了。 （快想想，艾倫。快想想。） 查德維克！看看你和我最後所在的這個地方，我們在一條線上。馬克應該也同樣在那條線上。他在我們上面還是下面？ 查德維克沒有回答。大部分被埋在雪崩當中獲救的人都是在十五分鐘內被找到的，超過半個小時，成功救活的機會非常渺茫。我們沒有時間上下來回尋找，只能選擇一邊。我大叫：我什麼都沒找到！下面這裡沒有線索。他在我們上面！let's go!我也不確定，但是我們必須做出選擇。就算此刻馬克還活著，幾分鐘的優柔寡斷都會害死他。 查德維克和我之間有三十公尺，我們迅速上到另一個延伸十五公尺地勢的坡面。查德維克停了下來。他衝口而出：四十八公尺！有訊號了！ 是馬克！我們用力推，大腿在燃燒，肺部刺痛，雙腳往下沉，在碎片當中踉蹌前進。mark!沒有時間喘氣了。我的發報器也響了起來三十八，三十七，三十四二十八，二十四。我在接近當中。這時我看見一個小東西滑雪板的前端。我認得K2徽章。 我找到他了！我看到一個滑雪板的前端！查德維克負責的搜索範圍比我廣，所以他在碎石堆前進得較慢，漸漸落後我愈來愈遠。我大叫：馬克！we are coming! 查德維克大叫：艾倫，鏟子拿去！ 我在接近中。十八十五我沒辦法轉身去拿鏟子。No!你快過來！當我朝著滑雪板前端靠近時，我的發報器嗶嗶作響的聲音愈來愈快，聲音愈來愈高，就像即將爆炸的炸彈。十一八四刺耳的聲音中，我聽見一聲微弱的呻吟聲，接著又一聲。 馬克，我在這裡！我沿著滑雪板前端往回走一公尺，從呻吟聲音那裡擡起一個公事包大小的雪塊。在一堆水泥般的雪裡我看見一團亂亂的黃色頭髮還有一塊紅色的布料。 mark!你聽得到我的聲音嗎？馬克沒理會我，我得小心處理我接下來的工作。我擦掉他臉上的雪時，也粗野地撞了他的頭幾下，很快地幫他清出一個呼吸的空間。當我把紅色的手套摺起來放在他的嘴巴前面時，馬克蒼白的皮膚色調讓我停下我的動作。我正盯著一張極蒼白的臉。我這輩子所看過的四位死者的臉色，都比那個時候的馬克要好。 我把馬克的頭擡起來，把他嘴裡的冰塊挖出來。雪崩停下來到現在已經過了十二分鐘了，而且大部分的時間馬克都缺氧。他仍然活著，但身體的靈活度降到最低。當他回覆我的問題時，我大大地鬆了一口氣，但他告訴我，他很冷、很累。 我跳了起來，跑向丟鏟子給我的查德維克，在空中接到鏟子後我轉身快跑回到馬克身邊。馬克的氣管通了，他可以自己呼吸，我現在該擔心的是他身體的溫度。失溫會讓馬克隨時失去意識，停止呼吸。我先挖馬克已部分暴露在外的左手臂，接著是他的背部，然後是左腳。我挖掘的進度過度緩慢因為馬克被埋得比我想得還要深。查德維克來了，我需要他幫忙把大量的雪移開。挖出馬克的後背包之後，我解開他的鏟子，把它扔到查德維克面前。快幫我挖！ I have no idea.我的雙手凍僵了。我什麼東西都握不住。查德維克的兩隻手套在雪崩當中都掉了，加上把我挖出來、費力地從碎石地裡爬上來，他的雙手變得無法使用而我只剩左手手套和襯裡。我把手套外面的那一層扯下來，交給查德維克，卻遭到他的反對：我的手已經沒救了，留著救你的手吧！ 拿著！把它從裡面翻出來，套在你的右手上，我需要你幫忙挖。接下來，我拉起馬克的手套，把左手手套給了查德維克，自己則拿了右手手套。 第一次，我看到小屋那邊有動靜。當我們看著上坡時，小屋就在我們右邊越過山腰約三分之一公里的地方。我高舉雙手，對著我可以看到的人們盡全力大聲吼叫：救命！Help!Help!Help! 我隱約聽見有個聲音回覆：我們來了！ 救援在路上了，但除非我們能把馬克從雪裡弄出來，將他包在隔熱層裡，否則他無法擊退低體溫症。我們揮舞著鏟子，把雪鏟出去，鏟子互相撞擊時傳出鏘鏘的聲音，但查德維克連續兩次完全沒有鏟到雪。 查德維克，慢一點。你連雪都沒有碰到。他顯然很恐慌。從高點開始，往下鏟，這比往上鏟要容易些。即使我們兩個人埋頭苦幹，馬克仍然悄悄地昏了過去。他一直重複他很冷、很累，然後，大約有一分鐘的時間都沒有出聲。 查德維克再次檢查馬克的狀況。他沒呼吸了。查德維克施行兩次人工呼吸後，馬克又開始呼吸了。我從滑雪板的固定裝置上把馬克的左靴使勁拔出。耗了五分鐘、鏟了四十立方公尺的雪之後，我們終於把馬克的左腳拉出來了。 Help!Help!Help!我們一起對著遠方的朋友們大叫。我們已經竭盡所能，而且我們需要補給品讓馬克暖和起來。半個小時的救援讓我們精疲力竭，加上我們的朋友因為謹慎地採取一些措施，以確保他們不會被第二次雪崩掃到所以來晚了，我生氣地抱怨：什麼事讓他們搞那麼久？ 我們把馬克從左側翻過來，讓他坐起來。他突然往後傾，噴出查德維克吹進他肚子裡的氣，由於馬克的頭呈現往前的姿勢，人工呼吸時部分空氣從他的肺改道跑到肚子。我們用我們的身體包圍馬克的背和身體兩側，查德維克和我激動過後全身顫抖，坐著擁抱馬克和彼此。我們嗅到恐懼的氣味，混合了牡蠣、蛤蜊、魚和辣味鷹嘴豆芝麻沙拉醬的味道。我們有信心馬克會活下來，所以爆出一陣大笑，並鬆了一口氣，我們全都沒事了而且救援幾分鐘內就會抵達。 和我們一起旅行的其他四名阿布奎爾克山區救援小組成員史堤夫．帕契特、湯姆．萊特、丹．韓德利和茱莉亞．史蒂芬生一個接一個，在黑暗吞食山腰時，滑到我們縮成一團等待救援的凹處，帶著一個羽絨睡袋、泡沫墊、手套和頭燈。我們把馬克包在羽絨睡袋裡，等到查德維克和我找回我們的滑雪板和其他裝備時，馬克已經醒來而且可以活動了。三十分鐘裡，他從失去意識到靠自己的力量滑回小屋，證明他的能耐和求生的渴望。 我們回到小屋後吃了一頓嚴肅的晚餐，然後重新講了一遍傍晚發生的事。好幾位我們的朋友看見雪崩，知道我們身陷其中。他們從穿著長內衣和襪子在煮晚餐，到完全準備好做救援努力，並安全抵達現場，只花了半小時，令人欽佩。查德維克在拯救兩位夥伴的恐懼壓力下努力保持鎮定。我為他的行動力，還有馬克的恢復力感到驕傲。雖然我們是各自決定滑那面山坡，我仍對自己的決定感到愧疚：我以主觀意識、傲慢的態度、自負和野心做了這個決定，且不顧我們團體給我的訓練和經驗。 我們在五級的雪崩裡存活下來，就像他們在科羅拉多碰到的雪崩一樣大。我們在不應該存活的機會裡死裡逃生，但是馬克和查德維克怪我強迫他們在盆地裡滑雪，那個週日，我失去兩位朋友；馬克和查德維克第二天早上就離開了，而且他們從那時開始就不和我講話。 與其懊悔那些選擇，我自己發誓，我會從中學到教訓。簡單地說，我了解到自己的態度並不夠安全。例如，沒有完全評估一個決定的潛在危險，我是在賭博。我想起一位雪崩指導員的忠告：當你在賭博時，你即使不能賭贏，也要想辦法存活下來。在盆地雪崩之後，我發現我比較容易放開那些將我推向危險而不是令我感到自在的主觀意識和態度。那種主觀意識和態度也常使我匆忙做出決定，導致我忽略搜集和評估資訊的重要步驟，對潛在危險的不安感並不是我需要克服的弱點，不安感其實是做決定前的提醒，我是否能夠安全前進？或是應該選擇改天再回來的決定。 接下來三個星期溫暖的氣候和更多的暴風雨造成一連串天然崩塌發生，減少我完成最後冬季計畫的可能性攀登馬朗鐘山。它是科羅拉多山脈裡最多人拍照的山，如同明信片般完美的雙金字塔很適合用來裝飾月曆。兩座山峰的峰面和小峽谷都有嚴重崩塌的危險。沒有危險性較低的路線；唯一比較安全的方式是在雪堆穩定的狀況下前去攀登。到了三月初，冬季即將結束。 由於我的冬季攀岩，三月十五日的亞斯本週報刊登了一篇有關我攀登國會峰和遇上盆地雪崩的文章。為了附上照片，我和我一位攝影師朋友丹．拜爾一起到高地山健行。那天天氣晴朗，馬朗鐘山的景色一覽無遺。我曾在受訪時說過，我並不認為在冬季過完之前，馬朗鐘山的條件適合一試。但我拍照期間所看到的情況使我重新思考攀上它的可能。從高地山上三千六百五十七公尺的地方看馬朗鐘山，可以看到主要的坡道將兩座山峰的東面切開鐘索深谷曾多次崩塌。有時候，最安全的登山路線是那些已經塌過的路線。我推測，若氣候持續溫暖，風也很平靜，且不再下雪的話，深谷就能保持來自前一次耗盡雪崩的穩定性，我準備稍後來個兩天一夜的旅行。 在亞斯本週報刊登封面文章那一天文章篇名為《為誰鐘響（For Whom the Bells Toll）》我穿著我的登山雪鞋從馬朗溪道路封閉處滑了十四公里到火山湖的三千一百零八公尺處。我在鐘索深谷正下方越過一處一公里寬、已經變硬的崩塌地區，那裡是長達一週的強烈崩塌活動的證明。到了下午一點半，我抵達我要紮營的地區，當我仔細察看碎石邊的樹林，想找一個較安全的地點時，三百零四公尺長的雪塵像瀑布一樣灑在南馬朗峰東拱壁較低的懸崖上，就在我前面不到四百公尺處。我迅速拿出相機，拍了一系列雪崩覆蓋森林，從谷底揚起一朵一百五十二公尺高的雲的照片。聲波後來才傳過來。當雪猛然從較上面的懸崖衝到二十四公尺高的樹林上，這些樹在毀滅性的衝力下突然斷裂，分裂的撞擊聲不時打斷雪的咆哮聲。雪崩的時速最快大約一百公尺，由於懸浮在空中的雪，其密度是空氣密度的四倍，且它的風速高達四百公尺。以如此強大的能量撞擊，松樹和冷杉木當然無法倖免，我也一樣。 當雪逐漸飄入山谷裡時，我選擇樹林裡距離碎石堆邊最遠的地方紮營，然後開始規劃我的上山計畫。由於之前的釋放，雪崩的威脅對深谷本身來說是微小的。但是兩個側面倒斜著進入這低谷，太陽方位在幾近垂直的岩石上方，而五十度的鐘索深谷兩面的雪面會讓我陷於危險之中。左側面會從太陽的第一道光開始一直接受日曬到大約中午，而右側面則會到下午。由於右側面擁有較長的陽光暴曬時間和較向南的方位，它早已流失大部分的雪，所以和左側面比起來，較不令人擔心。我研究過後，了解日出之前以及左側面在中午一過剛進入陰影時是危險性最低的時間。到了下午稍晚，右側面會開始滑動，就像我坐在我的帳篷裡準備晚餐的湯時，它就滑動了三次。 我在清晨三點醒來，穿上我的禦寒衣物，收拾水和食物，穿上靴子，綁上冰爪。我迅速喝了一碗燕麥和蛋白質粉之後，在清晨三點半動身前往碎石地區。 攀不到一個小時，我就遇上麻煩了。我前一天下午做觀察時，發現一條陡峭的捷徑可以讓我直接上到一座狹窄的小峽谷。而這座小峽谷可以避免我在比較不穩定的雪裡向右橫越，讓我可以在三公里處進入鐘索深谷。我的腳尖在我頭燈孤單的照明之中往上爬，爬到一半時，一個保齡球大小的冰塊從漆黑的天空中掉下來，往下掉到通道裡，咻地一聲從我的頭旁邊過去。它墜落的速度之快，我只看到它一閃而過。恐懼令我感到寒冷，但我繼續攀爬，希望那九公斤的冰塊沒有其他朋友。然而，幾分鐘後，另一塊從我右肩飛過，以同樣驚人的連度，打在小峽谷的右壁上。我得盡快離開這死亡峽谷。爬上頂部是最好的選擇，因為冰塊似乎是從一處岩石掉下來，而岩石可以當作掩護，直到我離開這裡為止。當我接近頂端時，小峽谷變得更陡，接著，我的冰斧打到雪下面堅固的冰。我擡頭看著一處十二公尺高的陡峭結冰瀑布，環繞著這座小峽谷。 What are you doing?那究竟是從哪裡來的？我之前怎麼沒看過這個？我能爬嗎？我該下去嗎？ 我不想冒險攀下小峽谷我不知道冰塊轟炸是否結束了而且我也沒有時間再爬一次積雪的斜坡。我必須在兩個小時後，在陽光照到山面時抵達四千一百四十五公尺處，如果我必須放棄半個小時的攀爬然後原路返回，我會無法準時抵達。如果我想要順利結束今天的攀爬，我必須用我不是很喜歡的單冰斧和一般的登山冰爪攀爬這座冰簾。我右腳冰爪上的釘子卡進瀑布結冰的光滑表層，我像揮舞比較短的攀冰工具一樣揮舞著我右手裡的長柄斧頭，直到它插入十字鎬的第三個齒裡。指頭寬的裂縫、淺淺的岩石，我把立足點插入我左邊的岩壁上。我左邊的岩壁和冰形成一個直角，讓我可以進行煙囪爬法的策略；運用反壓力，我可以比較有信心壓在我右腳的冰爪上，讓釘子嵌在冰裡。我用這個基本技巧克服了岩石裡三公尺的距離。我試著不去理會身後致命的黑洞，繼續又前進了三公尺，我的右邊快要沒有冰了。我幾乎到頂端了，但現在出現一小塊雪崩造成的結冰凍土地帶。一個五公分高的水平裂縫給了我一個合理的左腳立足點，因為冰爪前面平的釘子可以在那裡平衡。我的右腳仍然用頂著的方式刺穿冰瀑，但是我左邊的岩壁也在逐漸消失，讓我兩隻手都沒有可以好好握住的地方我卡住了。 往下攀回冰和岩石混合的平面等於通往一座死亡瀑布。我不能往下；我不能停在這裡。我得往上，但似乎是不太可能的事。我把冰斧從冰裡拔出來，用力將它砍進草丘上方結凍膨脹的土裡。我幾乎不相信那泥巴能承受我的重量，但我的左手搆不到最後剩下的岩石邊緣我的手套太滑了。當我左靴的冰爪越過平衡點時，我用力將右手伸長到冰斧之上。冰爪的釘子很快抓住被霜覆蓋的凍土地帶，但我這麼做根本是孤注一擲；如果我的腳離開平衡點時，我的冰斧碰的一聲斷裂了，我早已經死在小峽谷底了。 伴隨著壓力跟恐懼，伸長脖子，我把頭往左靠，用牙齒咬左手手套的邊邊，把手套扯下來。手套掛在手腕腕帶上，我的手指頭捲在岩石邊緣，同時雙臂一起拉，看著冰斧尖端刺入泥巴裡。那就像任何我所做過的難度五點八的攀岩動作一樣難。這個動作是我嘗試過最困難的自由單人動作。加上高度、偏僻，還有我四周一片漆黑的事實，應該很容易了解為何我癱在我能找到的第一個平面上。我流汗流得很厲害，但我能做的就是用牙齒打開能量包的同時，伸出手穿上我的左手手套。 我的手套不在那裡！我的手套並沒有掛在我的手腕上。 這時，我才想起那天早上並沒有把我的腕帶繞在我的手上。當我把我的左手手套扯下來做最後那個動作時，它已經一路掉到小峽谷裡了。 Damn it!我再次盤算是否要下去，但那表示我要放棄攀登，去拿回我的手套。我能承受更多凍傷嗎？不能，但我確實有額外一套襯裡以防止在國會峰上的結冰情況再次發生。我拿掉我的右邊手套外層，將額外襯裡從裡面翻出來，將它套在我備用的左手手套內襯上，將我備用的右手內襯加在我已經套有內襯的右手上。 好了，艾倫，和你剛剛所做的比起來，這剩下的部分應該很容易。 我的心在接下來兩個小時都砰砰作響，在我攀完剩下的七百公尺，抵達深谷頂端時，正好及時看到太陽從東邊五公里外的金字塔峰峰頂升起。馬朗鐘山的影子涵蓋了到地平線前大半的範圍，站在這裡，我看見斯諾馬斯山和國會峰在戲劇性的黑色天空下採集它們第一道曙光。對於我在黑暗中所做的吃力攀爬，這日出是個早期的獎勵，也是我在接近海拔四千二百六十七公尺以上高山山頂所看見的第一個冬季日出。我休息了很久，以一些條狀乾糧和水重新補充能量，接著動身上到第四級的厚岩層和積雪原。早上八點十五分，我帶著歡呼聲和微笑抵達南馬朗峰峰頂。一個小時後，我回到鐘索上的鞍狀山脊，準備攀上馬朗峰。科羅拉多海拔四千二百六十七公尺以上的高山中，雙鐘山山脊是四條技術性高處連結橫越路線之一，其他路線是布蘭卡小熊