Wake up at
two in the morning in BC to climb to 6,000 m carrying ropes and my personal
equipment, believe it, it is very hard for me. The first 15 minutes I move as
a zombie trying to be lest dumb and trying not to put my socks inside out or
salt instead of sugar, in my tea with lemon cup.
At 3 in the
morning we leave, Hassan and I from our group, and Riki, Nacho and Martin from
the Aragon group. The danger of falling in a crevasse during the first part
of the trail wakes me up, crevasses that have been recently opened in the
glacier next to BC. At 5:15 we reach C1 (4,800 m), we hydrate and rest a
little before going to C2.
go away, I stay a little longer in my tent, because we are not in a rush
today, I have all day to reach C2. At 6:10 I put my backpack on my shoulders
and I am scared f the weight in it. I have voluntarily decided to collaborate
by taking, besides my personal stuff, 140 m of rope split in two rolls of 70
each. Mentally I repeat myself that I have to take these long hours with
philosophy, as my teammate Edurne uses to say, when she wants to refer to take
something easy, slowly and without a rush. I am going through this enormous
slope of snow, rocks and ice of more than 1000 m of length, the piolet in my
hand, the cane in the other and under the iron in my boots, luckily, the hard
snow that resists my steps. But I feel crushed under the weight of my
backpack, I climb very slowly, I donít ascend in an orderly way, very
frequently I step on my own feet. Damn! Time passes
and with such uselessness I recognize that the load is stronger than me.
decide to fight and I have the idea of taking out one of the rolls of rope,
open it, extend it and tie it to my waist though the harness to drag it along
the slope instead of carrying it. Letís do it! Thatís what I
do. The weight of the backpack is lighter, to my happiness. I start
ascending while dragging that plastic snake, but it is too hard; my torso and
my waist make an enormous effort to make that unmovable animal crawl. I fell
that the bands of my harness bite my waist and my thighs. I canít, I canít
take it anymore! And that pretty exercise of recognizing uselessness, I stop
again, I untie the rope, I leave it tied to a rock and I continue. What a
is big, but so am I, because I climb with enthusiasm and with happiness, even
joking with my teammates.
At 10 in
the morning, Riki and I stop at the bottom of the Kinshofer wall and we make a
line waiting for a turn to climb. While my colleagues climb, we eat a
chocolate bar and drink water. I did not do it well on the wall the last
time, the verticality and flatness of the wall defeated me in some parts, but
now I have promised myself to do it better and with elegance. When my turn
comes I leave the crampons, that was the mistake, and I start climbing.
Wonderful, what a joy to climb that way! My hands and the rock, my feet and
the rock, my agitated breath and my body that gains centimeters against
gravity. I even have the luxury of filming Ricardo. I rest a little, I grab
a candy and I go through the last part that is the flattest of all. One
second before I start I say again: You are going to do it nice and enjoying
it. And once again I am sticking to the rock like Peter Parker after becoming
Spider Man, trying to reach C2.
At 11 in
the morning I am once again in C2, we all gather, celebrate and get in the
shelter of the tents to escape the brutal heat. The tent, hanging in the
emptiness on the edge of a balcony; the little stove, in a path on the edge of
the snow, and Hassan and I inside, resting and rehydrating.
clothes on our bodies help lower the temperature, we have to change,
especially the socks. I do it first and when it is Hassanís turn, I donít
know why I get the memory of a deli exposing in the window the most mature of
the Roquefort cheeses. Luckily I am just at 6,000 m of altitude, because with
that aroma at 7,000, I would suddenly put my head outside the tentís door and
threw it all up.
saying anything and with a nice face I listen what Hassan says in his bad
English about Islam, the reason why he is, among other things, the father of
five children, one after another, like a rodent.
Since I am
not bad in the kitchen, you can ask Karma, I start to cook garbanzos with
chicken stew and onions rings on olive oil. All that at 6,000 m: I am a
Sir. Very good cooker Sir
afternoon dies, the sun is going to the other side of the world, a little wind
blows and it is cold. We close the tent, we sink in out sleeping bags and we
rest, but for Hassan, with his one meter ninety, the length of the tent is not
enough. He has to cross in diagonal and his legs, long like poles, go on top
of mine. What a night awaits for me!
I try not
to pay attention and I turn on my frontal lamp and I read the chronicles of
Rosa Montero before going to sleep. Tomorrow we will search for a place for
from Spanish by Jorge Rivera
Sport Everest Boot Expedition and mountaineering boot for high altitude
and extremely cold conditions. The Everest has conquered all 14
mountains over 8,000m and also the Seven Summits- and has now had a
makeover to ensure continued peak preformance. With a newer sung, Alpine
Fit, and even lighter
Expedition footwear for
mountaineering in conditions of extreme cold. NOTE US
See more here.