Rising by Sharon Wood

Author:Sharon Wood
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781680512632
Publisher: Mountaineers Books
Published: 2019-02-04T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 13

SMALL PLANS

TWO DAYS LATER, THE WEATHER CLEARS and Albi and I head up for a lead shift and to spend our first night at Camp Four. On that calm and sunny day we reach the camp in a record time of five hours. Rather than stay in the snow cave, we resurrect the tent.

Over the last couple of days we have resolved the radio call issue by altering our time zone again by yet another hour to make the best use of the daylight hours. During our call that evening, we learn that Dr. Bob has diagnosed Chris with sprained intercostal muscles from coughing so hard, and Dan with pleurisy. The news is a death sentence for their summit dreams. Despite their misfortune, our proximity to the summit shifts Albi’s and my mindset from the ground beneath our feet to heady possibilities. As we work together over the next several days, events and speculation shape a plan to go to the summit together.

I lie in my sleeping bag half asleep, 1,300 metres higher than the night before. The wind teases, pelting erratic bursts of snow against the tent walls. What starts as envy for Albi’s ability to fall asleep turns into resentment once he starts to snore. With the hope of distracting my busy mind, I turn my headlamp on to read, but I’m too addled by the altitude to concentrate and I give up by the second page. The drifting snow begins to build up, pushing my side of the tent inward and me closer to Albi. I toss and turn, and the combination of the shrinking space between us and the swishing and crackling of my sleeping bag in the cold soon wakes him.

He snorts and rolls on to his side. I whisper, “Albi, are you awake?”

“I am now.”

“Want to talk?”

“No, but why do I have the feeling you do?” I sigh, “I can’t sleep.”

“I can tell.”

“Remember when Charlie and I did that carry to Camp Four on Makalu? God, I felt terrible. I’m not sure how I’ll do at higher altitudes.”

“Well, we won’t find out any bloody time soon if you don’t let me get some sleep.”

A shot of white light flashes from his watch and he says, “It’s all-good-girls-should-be-asleep o’clock. Take a pill.” Soon after, he is on his back and snoring again.

I’m too tired to rein in my thoughts, and the memory of my first time near eight thousand metres plays through. My teammate Charlie Sassara and I had carried a load up to our high camp. We were surprised at how strong we felt after a strenuous day of climbing fixed ropes up six hundred metres over steep rock. Although the plan was to turn around once we’d delivered our loads, we decided to stay because it was our first time at that altitude and we wanted to find out how we would do sleeping that high. I woke the next morning with a pounding headache. I threw up after the first brew and couldn’t stop retching.

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