WalkFaster
New member
Near the summit of a jagged peak and part of a team that measures snowfall and studies the atmospheric trends in proximity of a distant mountain, I am observing the progress of an unusually harsh winter storm through a pair of tall, thick glass windows from inside the lab.
It must be nearly 7;00am on the south face after a long, unusual night of pounding snow and ice fall. The 850ft. cone provided a precarious, wind whipped ledge composed of solid basaltic andesite just beneath an ice cornice that stretched toward a cloudy oblivion where the 900 square foot observation lab was constructed.
On a good day, the summit was another grueling 600ft above us. When my eyes weren't locked onto the majestic tower of rock we were sent to evaluate, they were working not to steel a glimpse of Kirstin's fire-red hair and fair skin. We had been a thing once, but that was nearly three years ago. After drifting apart in the final years at university, she took another direction but oddly, fate had brought us back to this foreboding ledge where we agreed to keep the focus on our science.
Today I was scheduled to crawl back up the side of this monstrous peek once more to take a group of measurements, never knowing what to expect.
At its highest perch, the lenticular cloud that had settled just above the summit revealed the impossible. Like a mirage, there was another station! Right there on top of the world, but where did it come from? As I continued to climb, eventually I began to hear snide remarks and a competitive sarcasm coming from three men inside, they were laughing about something, but I didn't hear enough to understand what it was about.
Outside and feeling the stinging cold carve into my neck and shoulder, I was in a death grip posture, white-knuckling past a perch up on a final outcropping of exposed rock. Working through a traverse and into position for a final blitz to capture the summit I pushed with my last ounce of strength.
What I was about to see and experience would prove a bitter test of resolve that felt like it would break me and send me over another type of precipice. There in this hidden station I saw Kirstin, in the arms of one of the men. I was close enough now to hear that they were laughing about my tremendous loss. She forgot to tell me she was involved with one of these guys that I didn't know existed.
As more snow and frozen sleet fell on my pack and summit suit, I came to a hard preference to be alone and face the brutal punishment of descending from this nightmare back to the warmth inside the station. One of the men spotted me and in another minute a loudspeaker switched on. "Come on up" he said, half laughing in a mix of spite and cynicism.
I shouted back in the same direction asking for the key measurements I had come to collect. After my reluctant reply, I saw Kirstin with two of the men now standing above me. They were hurling chunks of ice on top of my head. I turned back and made my way down the frozen basalt edifice. I could have had the observation lab to myself when I came to it, but nothing was left inside of me that I could use to take those dozen steps over to it.
I was lost to another storm, one even more frightening and just as threatening as the vision back up on that summit face. I wanted to live, but something half dead inside of me was hoping to take hold and conquer the broken pieces of my heart. I woke, shaking in a pool of sweat before I could determine my fate.
It must be nearly 7;00am on the south face after a long, unusual night of pounding snow and ice fall. The 850ft. cone provided a precarious, wind whipped ledge composed of solid basaltic andesite just beneath an ice cornice that stretched toward a cloudy oblivion where the 900 square foot observation lab was constructed.
On a good day, the summit was another grueling 600ft above us. When my eyes weren't locked onto the majestic tower of rock we were sent to evaluate, they were working not to steel a glimpse of Kirstin's fire-red hair and fair skin. We had been a thing once, but that was nearly three years ago. After drifting apart in the final years at university, she took another direction but oddly, fate had brought us back to this foreboding ledge where we agreed to keep the focus on our science.
Today I was scheduled to crawl back up the side of this monstrous peek once more to take a group of measurements, never knowing what to expect.
At its highest perch, the lenticular cloud that had settled just above the summit revealed the impossible. Like a mirage, there was another station! Right there on top of the world, but where did it come from? As I continued to climb, eventually I began to hear snide remarks and a competitive sarcasm coming from three men inside, they were laughing about something, but I didn't hear enough to understand what it was about.
Outside and feeling the stinging cold carve into my neck and shoulder, I was in a death grip posture, white-knuckling past a perch up on a final outcropping of exposed rock. Working through a traverse and into position for a final blitz to capture the summit I pushed with my last ounce of strength.
What I was about to see and experience would prove a bitter test of resolve that felt like it would break me and send me over another type of precipice. There in this hidden station I saw Kirstin, in the arms of one of the men. I was close enough now to hear that they were laughing about my tremendous loss. She forgot to tell me she was involved with one of these guys that I didn't know existed.
As more snow and frozen sleet fell on my pack and summit suit, I came to a hard preference to be alone and face the brutal punishment of descending from this nightmare back to the warmth inside the station. One of the men spotted me and in another minute a loudspeaker switched on. "Come on up" he said, half laughing in a mix of spite and cynicism.
I shouted back in the same direction asking for the key measurements I had come to collect. After my reluctant reply, I saw Kirstin with two of the men now standing above me. They were hurling chunks of ice on top of my head. I turned back and made my way down the frozen basalt edifice. I could have had the observation lab to myself when I came to it, but nothing was left inside of me that I could use to take those dozen steps over to it.
I was lost to another storm, one even more frightening and just as threatening as the vision back up on that summit face. I wanted to live, but something half dead inside of me was hoping to take hold and conquer the broken pieces of my heart. I woke, shaking in a pool of sweat before I could determine my fate.
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