The Art of Misadventure: the Outtakes and Mistakes of an Adventurous Photographer by Dave Brosha

The Art of Misadventure: the Outtakes and Mistakes of an Adventurous Photographer by Dave Brosha

Author:Dave Brosha
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: RMB | Rocky Mountain Books
Published: 2022-07-12T00:00:00+00:00


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It was 30 minutes later, and I’d been making almost no progress. I was inching upwards like the slow spread of sticky molasses. I was sweating buckets and panting. Looking up again, I estimated that at my current pace I probably still had — at minimum — two more hours of climbing left. A sense of dread was building in me. I realized that I had a major problem. Water.

To get through that first 30 minutes I’d gone through almost my entire 1.5-litre bottle of water. Our route up Big Daddy to the camp consisted of two near-vertical climbs. You start with one steep climb up an initial slipcase from the bottom of the dune at the floor of the pan; once you finish this first huge vertical, you hit a ridgeline and then a plateau and then start up another giant wall.

By the time I finally got up and over the first vertical, hitting the first plateau, I was more exhausted than I’d ever been in my life. For me, that’s saying something. You remember my experience on Baffin Island? The time I got the kidney stones during the two-week hike? To be honest, I was even more shattered than on that hellish day.

As I walked a few steps along the ridgeline, my body was shaking and I couldn’t catch my breath. I was sucking hot, impossible air into my lungs, but it was as if it wasn’t recognized by my body. It was foreign and it had no impact. No matter how hard I sucked air, I felt I was suffocating. I lifted my water bottle to my lips and realized — with horror — I was on my last drops of water. These last precious drops gave no relief. My body literally started giving out. I let my camera bag fall from my shoulders and I just collapsed into the sand, straddling the spine of the ridgeline.

I couldn’t move. My body spasmed as I gasped for air and pain shot through me. I lay there in the sand with burning, parched lungs. All I could do was close my eyes and try to bring my breathing under control.



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