In the last few days, we followed the glacier on foot. It’s been a complete whiteout.
The wind is blowing snow onto your mask. You can’t see. The weather is deep into negative temperatures. The feeling in your extremities is biting pain. You can’t feel your digits. You start asking questions.
“I don’t belong here?”
“Is it time to die?”
“Why didn’t we do Kilimanjaro instead?”
The mountains answered us. “You dare to pass at our feet?” “How else would you expect it to be?”
After much postponement, we made it to the base camp alive. There were signs of human life – a cluster of igloos with USB drives providing electricity.
We set up a solitary camp. Maybe our soliloquy will be heard one day. Or maybe the weather will blow over, and we will see K2 in the distance.