Chapter 14 Chapter Twelve No Time

◆Simon's Narrative◆ I tossed my sleeping bag over to the side of the tent and went to hide from the sun under the rocks in the makeshift kitchen.The extreme exhaustion of yesterday was gone, and only the blackened fingertips remained to testify to my ordeal.In fact, I'd forgotten that my finger was hurt, and I still felt weird trying to turn the little latch on the gas stove.Richard took the stove and lit the fire.He said nothing while breakfast was being prepared.I guessed what he was thinking, but didn't want to talk to him.Last night he offered to return to Lima.There was no need for us to stay in the camp, and he had to renew his visa within five days.I told him I still needed to rest and recover.That reasoning might have been valid last night, but not now.I have fully recovered.My voracious appetite suggested this, and Richard must have noticed it too.

However, the pain has not eased.By leaving this place and not seeing what was in front of me, I would be relieved of the endless guilt I felt, and the silence that crushed me every time I was alone in my tent would be erased by the chaos and noise of Lima.I knew in my heart that I should go, but I couldn't make up my mind.These mountains trapped me.It was as if something was keeping me from leaving.I'm not afraid to go back and face the consequences.What I did was justified, I was as much a victim as Joe, no one can argue that.It's not a sin to be alive.So why not go?I gazed at the vast expanse of snow and ice on Sarapor Peak.maybe tomorrow

Feeling better?Richard interrupted my thoughts. Well, yeah, much better.Now only the fingers remained. I looked away and stared at my own fingers, avoiding his eyes uneasily. I think it's time for us to leave. I would have thought he would have brought it up later.His directness startled me. What?Yes, I think you are right.It's just that I'm not ready yet.I It's no use staying here.Right? Yes, probably not useful.I stare more closely at my hands. So be it.I think it's time for us to arrange a team of donkeys.Spinoza was down in the cabin.I can go down and get ready with him.

I didn't say anything.Why am I so resistant to leaving here?Staying here won't help, it's just stupid.Why? Hey, he's not coming back.you know this.If you still have a chance, you will definitely go up again yesterday.Yeah?So let's go.There is still much to do.We had to notify the embassy, ​​as well as his relatives, go through complicated legal procedures, book flights, etc.I think it's time to go.Richard said softly. Maybe you can go first and I'll leave later.You go through things like notifying the embassy and getting your visa.I will see you in a few days. Why?Come down the mountain with me.That would be better.

I didn't answer, he got up and went into his tent and came out with a concealed wallet. I'm going down to Spinoza.I tried to convince him to come up with the donkey.If we leave at noon, we will be in Huaialapa today.If he can't, I'll ask him to come early tomorrow morning. He turned and walked towards the cabin down the valley.As he was crossing the riverbed I stood up and ran after him shouting: Hey Richard!He turned to look at me. You are right, tell Spinoza to come with the donkey tomorrow, forget it today.We set off immediately tomorrow morning.okay?I shouted. ok, ok.See you later.

He turned and walked briskly across the dry riverbed.Two hours later, I had just prepared my tea when I saw him return.He brought me some cheese from the girls.We sat on the moisture-proof mat and ate while basking in the sun. He'll be there at six tomorrow morning, but you also know their sense of time. very good. I am very happy with the decision.The sullen heaviness at the thought of having something to do is gone.There is indeed a lot to do.We're going to be on the road for two days.The camp needs to be dismantled and packed into several packages of equal weight.How many kilograms can a donkey carry?Two twenty-kilo parcels on each side?It doesn't matter.We will lose half the weight.Spinoza had to be paid.Maybe we can discuss with him to pay for it with something.There are many things he wants here, rope, pot, knife.Yes, we can sell them to him at a reduced price.We then got to Cajatambo to book a bus and inform the police that we were going back to Lima.Here comes the problem!They would ask about Joe.You can save a lot of stress by not telling them.We can speak out in Lima, where the embassy will assist us.I have to call Joe's parents.God!What am I going to say?Just tell them he died in the crevasse, and tell them the details when you go back.Yes, that's the best way.I wish I could catch an earlier flight back.I don't want to make a stop in Lima.I will not go to Bolivia.Joe wanted to go to Ecuador and I wanted to go to Bolivia.Now we will not go to both sides, what a twist of fate.

Hey.I looked up and saw Richard bent over a boulder behind the big tent. What's wrong? Didn't you hide the money before going to Seurat? God!I've forgotten it all.I stood up and hurried to where he was standing.not there.I'm hiding under a rock near the gas tank. We searched around the gas tank for a long time but couldn't find it.I racked my brain to remember exactly where.I bundled two hundred dollars into a little plastic bag and hid it. It might be there.I muttered suspiciously.Richard laughed. This is wonderful!If we can't find it, it will be very difficult for us to go back to Lima.Come on, are you sure you remember the location?

Yeah, well, I think I remember correctly, but not sure.That was a week ago. As I spoke, I recognized a rock behind the gas tank.I lifted the rock up, and there was a bag of money under it. found it!I yelled triumphantly, holding my wallet above my head. Richard jumped up happily from the boulders. Thank God!I was still wondering if it was discovered by those children! Then he started cooking, and I ordered what was left: $195.enough.I wondered how long it would take to talk to the embassy and the police in the city, I thought.There must have been a lot of bureaucratic, time-wasting procedures to go through.

What about Joe's money?I said suddenly.Richard immediately stopped stirring the pot. what money? He hid the money too, did you forget? He didn't tell me. He did tell me.In fact he was quite persistent.He pulled me over and showed me exactly where he hid the money. Then go get your money out. no.I no longer remember. Richard laughed wildly.I laughed too, and was surprised at myself.During the last hours of my stay here, I had such a natural sense of humor that when I talked about Joe's money, I didn't think it had anything to do with him personally.I had burned his soul yesterday.Money is just money, no longer his, but ours if we can find it.

How much did he bring? Not a lot.Anyway, more than mine. Well, we better find it.I don't want to leave over two hundred dollars to rot under a rock. He stood up, walked over to the gas canister, and began to rummage through the nearby boulders.This time it was my turn to laugh out loud. What are you doing?You have no idea where he's hiding, there's a thousand damn rocks around here! So do you have a better idea?You are the one who forgot where the money was hidden. Let's get organized.Definitely not near a gas tank, I'm sure! I walked over to a place full of large boulders and tried to jog my memory.But every boulder looks alike.I walked back and forth until I was sure the money wasn't there, and then I walked over to another bunch of boulders.Richard stood quietly aside, smiling slyly.After an hour of searching and finding nothing, I stopped and looked at him.

come on.Don't just stand there, help me. Another hour later we sat morosely by the fire and drank our tea.Still not found. For goodness sake, I must be somewhere in there!I knew he was under a small rock near a boulder, not ten meters away from the tent. But as you said just now, there are thousands of stones here. And so we debated over tea and continued our fruitless search.At four o'clock the two girls showed up at the camp with two much younger children.We stopped searching and pretended we were making camp.They smiled at me, but with regret in their faces.I found their presence disorienting.Richard had already told them of Joe's death when he came down to Spinoza to arrange the donkey train.When I saw them mourn, it seemed like a cloud had suddenly clouded the otherwise light-hearted, sunny afternoon.They annoy me.What right do they have to grieve?I've been through the whole thing and don't want to be forced to recall it again. Richard made them some tea.They squatted by the fire and eyed me curiously, as openly as they had when they first met.They seemed to be watching to see if I was exhausted.I took their silence as sympathy.The two children stared at me with their mouths open, and I wondered if they were expecting some sudden feat from me.The older girl said something briefly to Richard.I couldn't understand what she was saying, but I saw Richard's face darken with anger. They want to know what we are going to give them!he said in disbelief. What? That's it.They didn't care what happened to Joe.They don't care at all! As we talked, the two girls chatted away, smiling expectantly at us now and then.When Norma reached out to pick out those cooking utensils.I couldn't help but explode.I jumped up and waved my arms.Norma dropped the frying pan and looked at Gloria in surprise. Get out!let's go!Get out!screw you.Get out! They sat motionless, bewildered, as if they didn't understand me, and looked very confused. Come on, Richard, you come and tell them.Don't make me do it! I turned and ran away from the tent.A few minutes later, I saw them helping the child onto the mule and riding down the valley.I went back to the tent shaking with rage. As night fell, the first heavy raindrops slapped the tents.We ducked into the yurt and moved the gas stove to the entrance to cook dinner.The rain turned into heavy, wet snow, and we pulled up our tents.Tomorrow the team of donkeys will arrive and we will be able to leave this place.I feel relieved.About seven o'clock there came a strange wail from the cloud-covered valley. What the hell is that sound? It's a dog. Damn dog barking so weirdly! Of course you feel strange.When you were on the mountain, I heard all kinds of strange noises at night.Often scared to death. We blew out the candles after a game of cards and lay down.I remembered the snow falling on the glaciers below the Seura Grande, and the hollow agony flared up again. The sun blinded me.Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision.I close my eyes and feel my physical condition.I am cold and weak.It was still early and the sun was not yet hot.Sharp stones imprinted on me through the wet sleeping bag.My neck hurts.Sleeping with my head between two rocks.The night seemed endless.I was barely asleep.Repeated falls hurt my legs badly.The throbbing pain kept disturbing my sleep.Another time the hamstrings of my thigh and calf cramped and I had to bend forward violently to massage my injured right leg.The severe pain made me cry out.The constant pain prevented me from falling asleep, so I lay shivering on the cleft of the rock, staring blankly at the night sky.Countless star belts filled the night sky, and meteors flashed by in a hurry.I watched with disenchantment as the shooting star burst into light and then disappeared.As time passed, I began to think that I would never be able to stand up again, and this feeling engulfed me.I lay motionless on my back, as if nailed to a rock.Numb exhaustion and fear weighed on me, as if the starry night sky was pressing me down to the ground.I opened my eyes and looked at the unchanging stars, and spent most of the night like this.Time seemed to have frozen, and I clearly experienced the feeling of loneliness and loneliness, thinking that I would never be able to move again.I feel like I've been lying around for centuries, waiting for a sun that will never rise.Occasionally I would suddenly fall asleep for a few minutes and wake up with the same stars and the same thoughts in my mind.They spoke to me without authorization, whispering feelings of fear.I know that's not true, but can't ignore it.That voice told me it was too late, there was no time. Now, my head enjoys the warmth of the sun and my body is shaded by a large boulder to the left.I let go of the drawstring with my teeth, trying to get out of my sleeping bag and enjoy the sun.Every movement causes burning pain in the knee.Even though I had only moved less than two meters, the effort I had expended had already caused me to collapse on the gravel exhausted.I couldn't believe that in just one night, my condition had deteriorated to such an extent that propping myself up on my arms was exhausting.I shook my head back and forth, trying to wake myself up and drive away the feeling of being muddled.But to no avail, I lay back on the stone.I'm at a dead end.I'm not sure if the dead end was mental or physical, but it enveloped me in weakness and indifference and suffocated me.I tried to move, but couldn't.Even the simple act of raising one's hand to shade the sun is extremely strenuous.I lay motionless, terrified of my weakness.If I can drink water, I still have a glimmer of hope.You only get one chance.If I don't make it to camp today, I never will. Will the camp still be there? The question jumped into my mind for the first time, and with it the fear I experienced at night.Maybe they're gone already.It must have been two days since Simon was back.Moreover, it is already the third morning!Once he regained his strength, there was no reason to stay there. I sat up suddenly and effortlessly.The thought that they might be gone woke me up and I was no longer groggy.I have to get to camp today.I looked at my watch, it's eight o'clock.There are still ten hours of sunshine. I clung to the boulders desperately, stood up vigorously, my body swayed back and forth due to instability, and almost fell backward on the gravel.I felt dizzy from the sudden change of position, and for a split second I thought I was going to lose consciousness.I felt the pulse in my temples, and my legs seemed to be melting.I clung to the rough surface of the boulders.After regaining my balance, the rush of blood subsided. I straightened my body and looked back at the place I came from yesterday. I was disappointed to find that I could still see the top of the ice cliff in the distance.Turning to face the lake, I saw myself still far above the bomb trail.Efforts in the dark yesterday yielded nothing.It was stupid to forget to act according to time. I lost the concept of time so quickly.Bomb trails became vague destinations rather than well-planned targets of action.When there's no timer, I just move forward, without purpose or sense of urgency.Something has to change today.I decided to reach the bombing trail within four hours, twelve o'clock was the deadline.I also intend to break up the four hours into shorter stages and schedule each stage carefully.I find my first landmark: a tall red rock column looming over a sea of ​​boulders ahead.Get there in half an hour, and then I'll lock on to my next target. I picked up my backpack, squatted down and started the first trial jump of the day.The moment I jumped up, I knew I was going to fall.My arms bent, and I fell forward.I tried to get up and try again, but found I couldn't get up with the ice axe.I hugged the boulders and stood up by grabbing the boulder surface.Fifteen minutes passed, and I still hadn't stepped out of my sleeping place.I swayed unsteadily, looking back at my progress.Falling over every jump, but the thing that frustrates me the most is not being able to stand up.The first fall was excruciatingly painful, and I lay face down on the gravel, clenching my teeth, and waited for the pain to subside.But the pain was always there, and it became stronger than ever. The burning sensation in my knee was unbearable. stop, stop, please stop Yet the pain is still there.I gritted my teeth and stood up, trying to force myself to ignore the pain.I felt the muscles in my face twitch and I grinned.I fell again.The level of pain never changed.Maybe it was because the knee had been hurt so badly that the pain was beyond normal boundaries; maybe it was because the pain had become ingrained in my mind. In those fifteen minutes, I lost all the fighting spirit I had left.I felt my fighting spirit ebb with each fall, and the constant burning pain gradually took over.I stood up and fell down again and again.Writhing, yelling, cursing in pain as they fell.Every time I stood up I believed it was one last effort and then I would lie down forever.I let go of the boulders and tried hopping on one foot.My feet never leave the ground.I fell sideways and couldn't even protect myself with my arms. The blow took me by surprise.The pain went away after a while, but I was dizzy, hovering between lucidity and blankness.The rock cut my lip and blood flowed into my mouth.I collapsed on my side between two large boulders.Columns of red rock stood in the moraine directly in front of me.I looked at my watch.Only ten minutes left.Impossible!I closed my eyes and pressed my cheek against the cold rocky ground.In a haze, I remembered how far I had to go, and how far I had already gone.Part of me cried out to give up trying, to go to sleep, and thought there was no way I would ever reach camp.That voice objected.I lay still and listened to their arguments.I don't care what camp or downhill it is.That's too far away.I had overcome many obstacles, and finally collapsed on the moraine ground.It's ironic and I'm outraged.That voice won.I've made up my mind.From the moment I escaped the crevasse, I made up my mind. I'm going to keep going and keep trying because I don't have any other options.After arriving at the bombing trail, I will take the high lake as the next target, then cross the middle moraine to reach the lowland lake, then walk along the lake to the tail moraine, climb over and descend to the camp.I tell myself it will happen, and I stop caring whether I can. I jumped towards the edge of a depression, fell, and rolled sideways down the depression.I heard the sound of water splashing on the flagstones from afar.My face is wet.The bottom of the water-polished rock is a layer of muddy gravel, cold and wet.I turned to the source of the sound and saw the silvery glint of melted water pouring down the golden rocks.I've reached the bombing trail.It's one o'clock.An hour past the scheduled time. The depression I was in was surrounded by a circular wall of rock.The swale was soaked with water.Muddy rubble piled up in a cone at the base of the rock, above which water cascaded down the flagstones.The sun shone down on the whole rock, melting the snow on it.I don't know where the strength came from, but I was able to climb to the pile of rubble and use the ice ax to sweep away the top of the cone.My mouth clings to the thin stream of water.The water was icy cold.After a few frantic sucks I catch my breath, then suck again.Water splashed on my forehead, flowed over my closed eyes, and dripped from the tip of my nose.I accidentally got my nose in the water, exhaled like a pig, and pressed my face against the rock again. After a long time, I gradually stopped absorbing water.The terrible dry burning in my throat has subsided, but I still feel thirsty.With each sip, I felt some strength regained.I sat on my side next to the rock, my wet pants soaking up the water on the gravel.After regaining my sanity, I dug a small hole in the remains of the rubble pile and watched the water fill it.The clear ice water filled the five-centimeter-deep pit, and I couldn't finish it in one gulp.The pit filled up again before I bent down for a second sip.I drink all the time.Drink until you get stomachache or continue to drink.I put my face into the sink to soak up the water, and the grit got in my throat, making me cough, but I was still drinking hard.I heard myself whimpering and moaning in pleasure and pain. Every time I stopped, I thought I was full, but I still had a strong urge to drink more.Mud and grit smeared my face, and I dug the pool again, widening some with my stiff, dirty fingers.I drank, rested, and drank again, fearing that the pool would suddenly dry up and disappear.Not drinking a drop of water for three days and three nights made me a little crazy.I couldn't bring myself to leave the rock, I could only close my eyes and drink water with a sullen face, feeling disbelief in my heart.There's more water here than I could have hoped for, more than enough to fill my blotting paper cravings.I stepped aside, drenched like a sponge.Contented, I collapsed into the hollow. I woke up from the trance of drinking water and looked around.The sound of clanging water was a comfort to me.This depression is somewhat familiar.I've been here with Simon and Richard and twice with Simon.How long ago was that?Eight days ago!It's unbelievable.I still remember this place vividly, when we sat on the backpacks, our hearts were full of excitement for climbing.That seems like only yesterday.Some small stones made a clattering sound and rolled off the flowing rocks.I dodged instinctively, and the small rock smashed into the rubble at the other end of the depression.Water has changed me amazingly.I feel energized, my previous depression is gone, and the empty, limp feeling I wake up in the morning is gone.I feel like I'm fighting again.The dead end I was struggling to break through in the morning was gone. I know it takes half an hour to walk from the bombing trail to the high lake and three hours to crawl.I decided to give it a try and figure out how to get there by four o'clock.I got up, jumped to the rock for a last drink of water, and turned to leave.I got to the other end of the depression and saw some footprints in the mud.I stop and look at them.I recognized the footprints of Simon's boots, and the smaller footprints of Richard's sneakers.I am very encouraged.They are still here.I skip those footprints. The moraine ahead was less messy.Smaller boulders replaced the large boulders strewn here and there like a carpet.Some boulders are dotted randomly.These little rocks move and slide away under my ice axe.I fell, but didn't hit the boulders, and got up with less effort.The water restored my strength, but the sun slashed relentlessly from the clear sky, sapping my concentration.I found myself light-headed, dozing off from time to time, then suddenly woke up, sat up from the fallen position, and shook my head to drive the drowsiness away. Progressive patterns take shape naturally.I didn't think about it.As natural as walking.The voice was still urging me on, but the tone was not as commanding as yesterday.The voice seemed to suggest that, since there was nothing else to do, I'd better carry on on my own.I found it easier to ignore the sound and just slump down to sleep.Well, I'll move, but let me rest for a while and the sound will fade away and become a hazy dream background.I heard conversations from the past, voices so familiar I could immediately recognize them, and the constant tunes and scenes from places in my memory were competing to emerge, floating in my mind like a broken, confused 60. era movies.Every time I approached a big enough rock, I swayed like a drunk and leaned against it, letting sleep snatch me away from the boundless landscape of dirty rocks in front of me. Only the watch keeps me connected to the world.Time slipped away imperceptibly.I remember only a few dreamlike breaks of a few minutes at a time, and nothing else.Whenever I fell and crushed my right leg, and the pain suddenly broke out, I would either cry or groan.As soon as the pain subsided, I resumed daydreaming.I've become so used to the pain that I'm no longer surprised by the pain that awaits me every time I fall.Sometimes I still think tediously, why didn't it hurt when I fell so hard just now?I asked myself countless questions, but couldn't answer any of them.But I never asked the question of what happened to me.The murmurs and arguments woke me up, but I didn't know who I was talking to.Many times I looked back to see who was behind me, but there was no one there.I stumbled down a road by instinct, not paying attention to the scenery around me, forgetting in an instant where I had just walked.Behind me, there is only a hazy memory of falls and boulders.I keep thinking about what I've done so far, and memories and thoughts are jumbled together.What was waiting for me ahead was the same thing. At three o'clock I came upon a steep ditch of rock shaped like a funnel.The ditch was deep and covered with yellow clay, and a stream snaked along the bottom.The moraine ends here.I knew that the eclipse descended and widened towards the lake, and finally cut a flat clay track from the end of the moraine.I couldn't hop down on one foot, so I sat down and moved my legs in front of me.Two ditches towered above me, with boulders overhanging them that seemed ready to fall at any moment.It is shaded and cool here.Sometimes I lay there on my back, watching the walls of the eclipse enclose the sky, and muttering songs from memory.The water seeped through my clothes, and when I sat up, I felt the water running down my back and seeping into my wet pants.When I want to drink water, I turn over and lie on my side, and suck the dirty water from the bottom of the erosion ditch vigorously.More often I am in a trance, just dragging my legs and moving down. I looked ahead at the widening yellow ditch and imagined other people shuffling along the bottom of the ditch.I imagined a mass of cripples going down the yellow path to the sea, and then thought of food, and the visions crumbled.Whenever I saw shoe prints, I wondered idly who had made them, then remembered the footprints of Simon and Richard on the bomb trail, and I was sure they were not far behind me.I smiled, happy to think that I had someone by my side, someone who would come to help if needed.If I yell, they'll come, but I'm not going to yell.They fell behind, out of my sight, but I knew they were not far away.They were embarrassed by my condition, and I was ashamed of myself.I tell myself so.Drinking so much water made me want to pee, but I couldn't undo my pants in time.I believe they will understand.So I kept going until the bubble of fantasy burst and the comfort of them being there for me was gone. I stopped blankly, and suddenly came back to reality, I was shocked and scared.Not long after, another song rang through my head, overcoming my sense of dread.Looking ahead, I saw sparkling water on the lake.I grinned and picked up the pace. Four o'clock, all the best!I yelled at the lake, laughing foolishly. A flat gravel plain extends from the gully to form a crescent of sandy beach on the lake's edge.Now I can no longer move with the pull of my falling body, I can only try to stand up.When I stood up unsteadily on one foot, the lake swirled before my eyes, and the blood rushed to my head, thumping.Nauseous, I fell hard on the gravel, and at the same time I heard a cry of pain that seemed to come from far away.I tried again and fell again before I could get up.My legs became limp. At first I thought it was because I dragged my legs down for too long, then realized it was because I was too weak to hop on one foot anymore.Hot, wet piss poured out from under my thighs and my face tangled up.After peeing stopped and started to cool down, I tried standing up again.The best I could do was bend and kneel like an arthritic, wobbling on the handle of an ice ax to support my weight.I swung my injured leg forward and almost toppled over for no apparent reason.I didn't even have the strength to stand still, I could only crawl on the ground. The water of the lake was exceptionally clear, with a copper-green glimmer in the depths.On the other side of the lake a cliff of ice jutted over the water like a huge gray mound.A waterfall splashed down from the ice, and the breeze sometimes ruffled the surface of the water, and the silver and green reflections flickered, as if jumping towards me.I fell asleep on my stomach, with my head sticking out of the small rocky slope, facing the lake.I woke up staring at the lake for a while, then fell asleep again.The sun dried my pants.There was a warm stench of urine floating all around in the breeze.I have slept for an hour.Now I'm looking across the lake and wondering if I should try standing up again. The lake stretches toward the camp like a slender ribbon.In the distance I saw a tangled moraine cutting the lake in two.I remember the smaller circular lake on the other side of the moraine, and at one end of the lake was a dam formed by the moraine, and the camp was under the dam.The ground is mostly flat except for a short trail through the moraine.The beach-like gravel stretches to the dam, and beyond the dam it's all downhill.These surfaces are not difficult as long as I can stand up and hop on one foot, and the hops will be much faster.If I get to the top of the dam before dark, I'll be able to see the tent below if it's still there.If I yelled, maybe they could hear me and run up to get me.but if they're gone I turned my head to look at the lake.What would happen to me if they were gone?It's very likely to happen, and I'm apprehensive.Because I know the answer all too well.I can't accept that they might have left.After all my efforts, I couldn't accept such a result.Could there be anything more cruel than this?When I climbed down the ice cliffs and passed through the entrance of the mountains, I should have escaped such bad luck, right?A part of me began to hesitate, blocking every thought of moving forward.I don't want to be there before dark.If I see that the tents are gone, I'll be devastated. The voice said: Don't be silly, hurry up.Only two hours of daylight left. I stare at the lake.Too scared to move.When I stood up, it seemed that I was carrying a heavy weight, and an unshakable fear spread all over my body, and I felt that I could no longer move forward.I hopped twice and fell hard both times.Then I crawled forward, dragging my legs across the gravel, my knees bouncing and shaking.I sat up, facing the way I had come, and shuffled back as I do on a glacier.I made my way to the second lake very slowly, but I didn't stop.I watched myself getting closer to the goal.I moved along the edge of the lake, falling into dreamland as I listened to the sound of the water lapping on the shore.I remembered that when I accidentally fell while climbing a mountain, I was trapped in the mountain by heavy snow, and I also heard the soft murmur of the lake water patting on the gravel beach.I thought I was dying then, and now the same melody keeps pace with me. The lake was much shorter than it looked, and an hour later I crossed the moraine that divides the lake and began to follow the shore of the second lake.I recognized where I had wanted to fish for trout, and stopped, looking ahead to the moraine dam.It takes fifteen minutes to walk to the campsite from here.I guessed how long the crawl would take, then began to feel helpless at the thought that an easy hour's walk from camp would lead to the Bombing Trail.The descent to the second lake took me five hours, and it was difficult for me to judge how slowly I was moving.However, as I looked at the dam, I was sure I could reach it before dark.I have another hour. A thick layer of cumulus clouds billowed in from the east, obscuring the sun.Dark cumulus clouds seemed to swell after pouring into the valley.The blizzard is coming again.I reached the moraine dam just as the first raindrops were falling and the wind picked up, sending icy gusts across the lake.I shudder. The dam body is composed of dense soil and gravel.I remember slipping and falling off a dam before.The dam is tilted at forty-five degrees, and some rocks protrude from the soil on the surface.Some boulders were strewn across the top of the dam, shaped like a crown against the low-hanging clouds.Snow flakes mingled with rain and whizzed past me.The temperature dropped rapidly. Using the dirt as ice, I held my ice ax high, hacked the beak into the wall, and lifted myself up on my arms.I tried kicking my boots into the slopes, but that didn't work.My boots slid up and down the slope until they caught on the narrow edge of a rock.I swing the ice ax again, and then I have to repeat the whole dangerous process with my injured leg hanging down.The higher I climbed, the more nervous I felt.I thought I was terrified of falling and having to start over, but there was a deeper reason: I was afraid that climbing to the top of the dam would see unbearable truths.In fact, this worry has been with us from the very beginning.In the crevasse, fear covered it; on the glacier, loneliness covered it.Yet once all dangers are passed, it quickly grows into a powerful void.I felt something huge swell in my chest, rolling in my chest, squeezing my throat and hollowing out my guts.My nerves twisted and twitched, thinking that I might have been abandoned and not just for a second time, but forever. Crawling among the tangled rocks at the top of the dirt slope, I finally reached the highest point of the moraine dam.I stood upright and leaned against a large boulder.Can't see anything.雲層填滿了下方的山谷，陣陣落雪在風中打轉。就算帳篷還在，我也看不到。天色近乎全黑。我把雙手圍到嘴邊，大喊： 賽門 回聲從雲層傳出，隨即被風吹散。我對著雲層高聲呼喊，只聽到詭異的回聲從不斷聚攏的黑暗中傳出。他們聽到了嗎？他們會來嗎？ 我靠著漂礫跌坐下來，一面躲避風雪，一面靜靜等待。黑暗很快就吞沒了雲層，寒冷也吞噬了我。我專注傾聽是否有回應的呼聲傳來，心裡卻清楚那是不可能的。我顫抖得無法繼續靜坐，就挪動身體離開漂礫。前方還有很長一段下山路，坡面覆滿雜草和仙人掌。我考慮要不要拿出睡袋，在冰磧上休息一晚，但那個聲音說不要。我同意，太冷了。現在一睡著，就永遠醒不來了。我縮起肩膀抵禦寒風，面向前方沿著山坡挪動下去。 黑暗中數小時過去了。我喪失所有方向和時間感，一邊緩緩下滑，一邊瞇著眼望向四周的黑暗，心中十分迷惑。我早已忘了自己正朝著營地下攀，也不清楚自己在做什麼，只知道不能停止動作。陣陣寒風不時吹起飛雪撲上我的臉，把我從長眠中喚醒，促使我繼續爬行。有時候我會開啟手錶上的照明，瞇起眼睛看錶面。九點，十一點，夜晚不斷延續。從冰磧水壩開始的五個小時爬行沒有任何意義。我隱約記得應該只需十分鐘就能到達營地。五小時可能就是十分鐘。我再也無法思考。 鋒利的仙人掌刺扎進大腿，我停下來檢視身下的地面，幾乎無法理解是什麼刺傷了我。夜晚吞沒了一切，我陷入譫妄，滿口囈語，無法理解自己身在何處，又在做什麼。我還在冰河上嗎？最好小心點。我想，末端的冰隙很不妙。岩石怎麼都不見了？沒感到口渴挺好的，但我真想知道自己人在哪裡