Chapter 4 Chapter 2 The Challenge of Fate

At five o'clock in the morning, on the glaciers of the Andes Mountains at a very high altitude, it was freezing cold.I zip up and tighten my leggings until I can't move my fingers anymore.I rocked back and forth, my hands between my legs were freezing and aching.It's never been this bad, I thought, the pain in my finger was burning like fire, it was so painful! Simon grinned when he saw my pained expression.I know that my fingers won't hurt as long as I warm them up, which is somewhat reassuring. I'll go ahead, okay?Simon said that he knew it was not suitable for me to play forward at this time.I nodded painfully, and he set off to climb the avalanche cone above the snow cave, toward the towering ice field that gleamed blue in the morning light.

Now is the time for the test!I watched as Simon leaned against the small crack at the base of the wall, driving his ice ax firmly into the sheer ice wall above.The weather looked good, with no clouds suggesting a blizzard.If the weather is good, we will make it to the summit and get down to the middle of the mountain before the next bad weather hits. I kept stomping my feet, trying to keep my boots warm.Simon hammered the ax into the ice, jumped up with both feet, and hammered the ax into the ice again.The shattered ice flakes made a crisp sound and fell on my shoulder.While dodging, I turned my face to look south, and the sky above the top of Sarapor Peak was slightly pale.

I looked up at Simon again. He was almost at the end of the rope, nearly fifty meters taller than me.I had to crane my neck to see him.The ice wall is just too steep. Hearing his cheery cry, I took out my ice axe, checked my crampons, and started climbing.It was only when I reached the crevasse that I realized how steep and precipitous the crevasse was.Confined by the angle of the rope, I struggled to maintain my balance until I dragged myself over the edge of the crevasse and onto the ice wall.At first I felt stiff and labored, and my movements were uncoordinated, and I struggled in vain for a while, then my body warmed up with the movement and the rhythm became even.At this moment, I feel a burst of ecstasy for being here, and this emotion drives me to continue towards the distant goal.

Simon stepped on the ice wall with one foot, hanging from the ice screw screwed into the ice wall, looking relaxed and casual: Steep enough, right? It's almost vertical from the bottom, but the ice is so bright!I bet it's steeper than Les Droites.I answer. Simon handed me the rest of the ice pick, and I climbed on top of him, sweating, and the morning chill gone.I lowered my head and paid attention to my feet, swinging, swinging, jumping; looking at my feet again, swinging, swinging smoothly climbed nearly fifty meters without any effort or headache, feeling like I was standing at the highest point in the world.I screw the pick into the ice, watch the ice crack and split, make sure it's ok, screw it in, turn it tight, snap the buckle, lean back, and let it go.that's all!

I feel something flowing inside me, it's heat, blood and power.now it's right.Yehoo echoes around the glacier.The snow cave on the glacier has collapsed and is getting smaller and smaller in our field of vision.From the dim shadow of the snow cave, you can see small and messy shoe prints, and a few lighter shadows, spiraling all the way up. Simon continued to climb.He hit it hard, and the shattered ice cubes fell one after another.Hit hard again, climb up on the ice pick, lower your head, tap, jump, surpass me and continue upward.There is no dialogue, only hard tapping, steady breathing, and smaller and smaller figures.

We climbed longer distances, 300 meters, 600 meters, and began to wonder when we would be able to get out of this ice sheet, and the pace of progress became chaotic because of monotony.When we keep looking up and to the right along the route we have chosen, the route appears very different.The rocky buttresses beside it stretched up into a messy gorge.The rock shed was covered with ribbons of snow and icicles were everywhere.But which one is the erosion ditch we want? In the middle of the day, we took off our jackets and tops and put them in our packs.I followed Simon, slowing down from the heat and thirst.As the angle of the rope eased, I looked to the right and saw Simon straddling the massive rock, unloading his backpack, taking a picture of me.I smiled at him, turned over the upper edge of the ice field, and walked towards him along a relatively gentle slope.

Lunch.As he spoke, he handed me the chocolate bar and dried fruit.He put his backpack next to the gas stove to block the wind, and the flames turned to one side, burning vigorously.Drinks are almost ready. I sat down against the stone, sunbathing comfortably, and looked around while resting.It was past noon and very warm.Cracks of ice crashed down from the steep walls more than 600 meters above us, but we were safe for the moment.The top of the rock where we dined was slightly raised, dividing the space above the ice sheet, and the cracked ice rolled down the side of the terrain without hitting us.From our vantage point, the slope of the ice field is extremely steep, like a vertical wall extending down from the rock we are on.I felt dizzy, and my body unconsciously leaned forward, as if I was going to be pulled down with the snow and ice.I got closer, my stomach began to constrict, and I felt a strong and dangerous breath. I was both terrified and obsessed.

Our footprints and snow caves have been lost in the dazzling halo of white ice and glaciers.The wind tonight will erase all traces of us. A buttress of yellow rock bisects the mountain face, and the upper layer of rock blocks our view.When we bypassed the giant rock and climbed to a height parallel to the giant rock, we realized how huge the giant rock is, which is more than 300 meters high. This height is enough to form a mountain by itself in the Dolomites.Stones whizzed down from the top of the buttress continuously, fell to the right side of the ice field, and then bounced and tumbled all the way to the glacier.Thank God we didn't take the route closer to the buttress just now!From a distance, those rocks seem small and harmless, but falling from hundreds of meters or even higher, even the smallest rocks are as deadly as rifle bullets!

There is a steep trough across this buttress, and walking along the trough leads to the wide and overhanging trough we saw from the northern peak of Selia.This gully is crucial to the summit, and we had to find and climb it within six hours, then dig a comfortable snow hole high above.A huge ice cliff sticks out from the edge of the eroded ditch, with icicles six to nine meters long hanging from the bottom of the 60-meter-high mountain wall.Our goal was to climb that ice cliff, but it was impossible to climb directly along the wall and through the icicles. How high do you think you have to climb to get to the gorge?I saw that Simon was observing the rock intently, so I asked.

Pointing to a row of steep icicles next to the left side of the ice cliff, he said: You have to climb a little higher.Impossible to go up from there. It might work from there, but it's certainly not the way we see it.You are right, it should be on the patch of land 1. Note 1: Climbers used to call the area where snow and rocks are mixed as mixed ground.Editor's note We don't waste any more time.I put away the stove, took out the ice pick and ice axe, got up and crossed the slope, gripped the ground with the front claws of the crampons, and climbed up the steep ice face.The ice here is more crunchy and crumbly.I looked down between my legs and saw Simon dodging chunks of ice I'd chipped off with the ice axe, occasionally cursing in pain when he couldn't dodge enough to get hit.

Simon catches up to me at the surety point to give his thoughts on the bout of bombardment I just started. Well, now it's my turn. He passed me and climbed to the right along a sloping line, over some bumps and a few areas of thinner ice and rocky outcroppings.I dodged some large chunks of falling ice, and then more flashed by.I noticed something was wrong, Simon was indeed above me, but to the right!I looked up to see where the ice had come from, and it turned out to be from a ridge cornice quite high above me.Some snow cornices actually protruded more than ten meters from the west wall, and we happened to be on the falling route of these snow cornices.Suddenly, the day is not so casual and easy.I noticed that Simon's progress had also slowed down.I hunched up and climbed, horrified at the thought that the cornice might collapse at any moment.I followed him as fast as I could.He was also aware of the immediate crisis. God!We have to leave now.He said while handing me the ice pick. I set off in a hurry.A waterfall of ice hangs down the steep rock face above, forming a steep 15-meter-high, approximately eighty-degree step.I got to the bottom of the icefall and chipped in an ice pick.I'm going to climb up the icefall in one go and move to the right. Water flows under ice.Several rocks were sparked by my ice ax.I slowed down, careful not to make a big mistake.Near the top of the icefall, I gripped the ice ax on the left, tiptoed, and climbed with the front claws of the crampons.Just as I was swinging the ice ax in my right hand, a black object suddenly rushed down towards me. There are rocks!I yelled and dodged.The rocks whizzed down, thumped first on my shoulder, then on my backpack, and fell.I saw Simon look up after hearing my warning, and a large boulder with a diameter of about half a meter fell directly on him from under me.It seemed like a century had passed since he began to react, and the movement was so casual it was unbelievable.When the stone was about to hit him, he leaned to the left and lowered his head.I closed my eyes and arched my body harder against more stones falling on me.When I opened my eyes, I saw Simon put the backpack on his head, and almost hid himself under the backpack. How are you? Well enough!he shouted from under the pack. I thought you were hit! Just some little rocks.Come on, I don't want to stay here. I climbed the last meter or two, onto the icefall, and quickly ducked to the right under a rock for shelter.Simon catches up to me and asks with his trademark smile: Where did that pile of rocks come from? have no idea.I also found out at the last minute.Damn, it's so close to us! Let's get on the road.I've seen the ditch. From the corner of the buttress, the steep erosion trench can already be seen.Simon raced forward, fueled by adrenaline.It was already half past four, and there was still an hour and a half before dark. I advanced another full pitch past Simon's foothold, but the gully didn't seem to be getting any closer.The flat white light makes it difficult to visually measure the distance.Simon made one last sprint towards the ditch. We were supposed to camp here, it was getting dark soon.I said. But there is no rock shed here, and it is absolutely impossible to dig a snow cave. I know he's right, it must be uncomfortable to spend the night here, but it's almost dark. I want to try turning over before dark. It was too late and it was already dark. Oh, I really wish we could have climbed another pitch.Stumbling across the steep ice and looking for safety points in the dark is not pleasant at all. I sloped to the left, advancing a short distance to the bottom of the trough.God!Here is the overhang!The condition of the ice surface was terrible too! Simon was silent. A five or six-meter-high ice wall rose before my eyes, its surface etched like a honeycomb.Above the ice wall, however, the terrain softened a little and the slope was less steep.I slammed the ice pick into the solid ice at the foot of the wall, threaded the rope through the ice pick, turned on my headlights, took a deep breath, and started climbing. At first I was a little nervous, the angle of the ice wall forced my body to bend backwards, and the honeycombed ice surface also creaked under my feet, breaking into pieces of ice and falling from time to time.But the ice ax was very strong once it penetrated the hard ice, so I began to concentrate on climbing.After a short effort, I was out of breath, the ice wall was under my feet, and Simon was out of sight.I stand on tiptoe on the glass-bright ice, which curves upwards and turns blue in the headlamp until it fades into shadow. There was silence in the dark night, only the sound of the ice ax cutting the ice could be heard, and the flickering cone-shaped beam of light from the headlamp was the only light in the darkness.I was so engrossed in the climb that it was as if Simon wasn't with me. Hit hard, hit again and that's it, now for the ice hammer.Look down at your feet.can not see.Kick hard and kick again.I looked up into the shadows, trying to make my way.The glassy blue ice curves to the left like a bobsleigh track.Under the icicle area on the right, the angle of the ice surface suddenly becomes steeper. Will there be another way up the mountain?I moved up, to the edge of the icicle.A few icicles broke and came crashing down like chandeliers clinking in the dark.A faint cry came from far below and I had no time to answer it.This line is wrong.Damn it!damn it!Go down, back up.No!Another ice pick. I fumbled around on the harness, but couldn't find an ice pick, let's go back under the icicle. I reached the gorge again, and called down to Simon, but there was no answer.The snow powder was blown up by the strong wind and suddenly burst down from the sky. I was so scared that my heart was pounding. I don't have an ice pick in my hand anymore.I forgot to take Simon and used my only one at the bottom of the ice wall.I was at a loss. The ice wall was nearly forty meters high and extremely steep.Do you want to go down again?I thought about the drop below me, and I was unprotected, and I shuddered inside.If there is no rock to use, ice picks must be used to ensure it.I shouted again, still no answer.Take a few deep breaths and keep working hard! I could see the top of the trench about five meters above my head, but the last three meters were tube-shaped and steep, with solid ice gradually turning to soft powder.I spread my legs and put my feet on the soft snow on either side of the tunnel.The only ice cone was more than seventy meters below me, which terrified me.I swung the ice ax vigorously, checked my surroundings repeatedly, inhaled quickly and sharply, and dragged myself hard to the gentle snow slope above the gully. When my breathing returned to normal, I climbed a rock wall, securing points between loose cracks and boulders. Simon finally joined me.Panting heavily, he said sharply: You are really not in a hurry. I was pissed off: it was so fucking hard, I was literally soloing without ice picks. Forget it, we have to find a place to camp. It was already ten o'clock at night, the wind was blowing harder, and the temperature dropped to minus fifteen degrees Celsius, but it felt much colder than that.We were all exhausted and distraught after fifteen hours of hard climbing in a day, and the thought of digging a snow cave that would take about an hour bored us. Not here, not deep enough to dig a snow cave.I glanced at the slope in Simon's picture and said. I'll try it out there. Simon pointed to a large golf ball-shaped snowdrift, fifteen meters in diameter, stubbornly clinging to the vertical stone wall nearly ten meters above our heads.He climbed up, digging carefully with an ice axe.I stood wobbly on the sure point, thanking him for his caution. Once the snowdrift broke off the wall, I too would be swept away. Joe!Wow!You won't believe it!I heard the sound of pitons hitting the rock, and Simon screamed happily, calling me up again and again. I dubiously stuck my head into the little hole he had just dug. God!The snowdrift is hollow, with a spacious interior, almost high enough for a person to stand, and there is a smaller cave next to it.This is simply a ready-made palace! I said you wouldn't believe it.Simon leaned comfortably on his pack, tied the safety line to a sturdy piton, and waved triumphantly over his new territory.There is also a bathroom!He said happily that all the fatigue and irritability were swept away. However, as we packed up and tucked into our sleeping bags, my usual distaste for camping returned and I tried to assess whether the place was safe or not.I have every reason to be wary of this precarious situation, and Simon knows why, but there's no point blah blah blah, there's no better option here. I still vividly remember that when we climbed the Bonatti Pillar on the southwest face of Les Petits Drus two years ago, we also had no choice.I was with climber Ian.Together with Whittaker, we climbed up the 600-meter-high golden-red granite spire, overlooking the scenery of the Chamonix Valley.The sunlight paints the dazzling outline of the valley, which looks more majestic against the soft background of the Alps.We think this is really one of the most enjoyable and beautiful climbing routes in the Alps.The climbing that day went smoothly. Before night fell, we had reached a hundred meters below the summit, but the terrain was still steep and complicated. It was impossible to climb to the summit that night. However, due to the clear and stable weather, we will definitely be able to reach the summit the next day. So there's no need to rush to find a raised spot to camp.That night was also very warm. Looking up from an altitude of more than 3,600 meters above sea level, the sky was full of stars. I stayed in a narrow foothold with a large, high, steep face at my feet, and Ian was above me, climbing a corner that was so steep and poorly lit that he had to slow down.I waited, shivering in the cold evening air, hopping on and off my feet, trying to recirculate the blood in the small space.After a long day, I was very tired and just wanted to lie down and rest comfortably. Finally, a faint cry told me that he had found it.Cursing, I struggled to climb the corner he had just passed.It was getting darker.Before dark, I realized we were a little off course.We climbed straight up a steep crack in the vertical rock wall without sloping to the right, and finally came to a huge overhang about 40 to 50 meters below.There is no doubt that tomorrow morning we will have to use the more troublesome rappelling to climb over the hanging rock.But looking at it now, this location has its own advantages, at least we can avoid falling rocks at night. I saw Ian sitting on a ledge about a meter wide, long enough for the two of us to lie down head-to-toe.That's enough for one night's sleep.I climbed towards him, and by the light of my headlamp, I found that this rock shed has a huge base fixed on the vertical mountain wall, and the bottom of the mountain wall is the corner we just climbed. It is very stable, and we have no reason to doubt the safety of this place. sex. An hour later, we fastened the safety line between an old piton and a long, pointed rock, hung the buckle, and got ready for sleep. I will never forget the next few seconds. I lay in my waterproof sleeping bag, half asleep, as Ian adjusted the safety line one last time.Suddenly, without warning, I felt myself descending rapidly, and there were deafening roars and cracks in my ears at the same time.My head was still in the sleeping bag, and my arms were sticking out of the opening in my chest, flailing wildly.When I fell straight into the abyss of more than 600 meters, apart from being at a loss, there was only fear in my heart.Amidst the great roar, I heard a scream of fear and felt a rebound.The safety rope grabbed me.When I fell, I accidentally caught the safety line, so the weight of my body was on the armpits.I swayed gently with the rope, trying to remember if I was on a safety line, and hugged my arms, just in case. Masses of granite fell, a thunderous noise echoed through the mountains, and then everything fell silent. I am completely at a loss.The dead silence around him felt terrifying and ominous.where is ianI thought of the short cry I had just heard, and the thought that he might not be on the harness at all terrified me. hell!I heard someone nearby speaking viciously with a Lancashire accent. I struggled to get my head out of the tightly zipped sleeping bag.Ian was hanging on the V-line, next to me.His head sank to his chest, and the yellow light from his headlamp fell on the surrounding rocks.I saw blood on his neck. I fumbled the headlamp out of the sleeping bag, carefully pulled the elastic strap off his headlamp, and inspected his wound.He could barely speak at first because he hit his head hard as he fell.Fortunately the wound was small.But falling down in the middle of a half-dream in the dark really scared us out of our wits.It took a while before we realized that the entire base had come off the pillar and had fallen straight off the face.Gradually, we began to realize how dangerous we were, and could only utter neurotic expletives and hysterical giggles. Eventually, we fell silent.Faced with this unexpected accident, our initial reaction was quite panic and excitement, and then it turned into deep fear and anxiety.We looked up with a flashlight and saw that the extra parts of the two safety ropes were still hanging on the ledge, but they had been cut to pieces by the falling rocks.When we turned to check the safety rope, we were horrified to find that the piton we were hanging from was moving, and the long, pointed rock to which the rope was attached was badly damaged.It seems that both fixed points may collapse at any time.We know that if any one fixed point fails, we will all fall into the abyss together.We quickly rummaged through our gear to see how we could secure the anchorage, only to find that almost all of it, including our boots, had fallen with the rock shed.We were so trusting in the safety of this rock shelter that we never even thought of tying our gear to a safety line.There is nothing we can do now. Trying to climb up or down is killing yourself.We looked at the shadow of the huge hanging rock overhead and gave up all thoughts of climbing.And we have no rope, just socks on our feet.The vertical wall below was lost in darkness, and to surmount this obstacle we had to abseil by rope, and the nearest rock shed was 60 meters below, and we would have been dead before we could even get close. We hung on that flimsy rope for twelve agonizing hours.Eventually, someone heard our cries for help, and a rescue helicopter managed to pull us up from the wall.I will never forget the experience of that night.For what seemed like centuries, we could fall at any moment, laughing hysterically one minute, then falling silent, stomachs clenched, utterly petrified, waiting for something we didn't want to think about to happen . Ian returned to the Alps the following summer, but his will to climb had been destroyed.As soon as he got home, he vowed never to set foot on the mountain again.I've been lucky, or stupid, to have overcome my fear, except when camping. what do you want to eat?Bolognese Pie or Turkey Sandwich?asked Simon, holding two foil packets. casual!Both are disgusting! Good choice.Then a turkey sandwich. After drinking two glasses of passion fruit juice and eating some dried fruit, we lay down and fell asleep.