-Vincent Bellow-

I wake up; silencing the alarm I set to ring every two hours. The storm raged on for half a day now, my tent being the wall that stops the wind while my sleeping bag is acting as my fortress of warmth. No stopping the noise though, as if it’s taunting me, daring me to continue, to climb on despite the conditions, a challenge. I laugh, remembering the last camping trip with my little girl before I drift on back to blissful sleep.

I dream of my younger days, of when I was first exposed to the wilderness, when I ran through the forests and spent my nights by the fire, the star filled sky covering the world as a blanket. I dream of my first climb with my father, my first dive with Sarah… I regretfully open my eyes as the alarm yet again fulfils its purpose perfectly.

I notice the absence of the howling which signifies the dominance of nature, according to my watch its 4am, normally I’d consider waiting until daybreak, but these past few days the weather hasn’t been accommodating in the least. My supplies are nearing the return point and I refuse to give up this chance, I’ve been planning this trip for years now, ever since Clementine was born I stayed at home, and passion was slowly replaced with responsibility.

But my little Clam is a woman now, she can take care of herself, I am no longer needed, I am free to my design… I’ve forgotten what it felt like.

I regain my focus, it’s been hard to do so lately, must be the altitude, it hasn’t ever been so bad though. I check and double check my equipment, quickly brew a small cup of coffee and eat an energy bar for a morning pick me up. Finishing up with my modest breakfast I pack all my gear into the pack while the tent goes on top, grabbing both of my ice axes I set off.

With my weight pushing me deeper into the snow with every step I can’t help but smile, it’s been so long… The Nanga Parbat mountain, an old friend, a forsaken lover, it didn’t work out between us on our last encounter.

I was with a new group at the time, we met in Astore-Valley while trekking, I joined their group and we continued to base camp together, cheery fellows, two Bavarians, Andrea Hintoisser and Tori Kurzav, the youngest of the party, and three Austrians, Willy Angerer, Edi Rainer and Eigor Weister, 5 in all.

We got just beyond the half way mark when the weather hit us, it wasn’t the ‘Holy shit’ kind though, just the ‘Oh shit’ one, not too bad I thought to myself, that’s when Eigor slipped on an ice covered rock and fell face first, he got up quickly enough and after making sure he was fine we were on our way to make camp for the day.

The next morning he wasn’t in good shape, high fever, blue lips, mild shaking, and coughing, the bad kind. The oaf fell on a jagged rock and broke two ribs, which in turn punctured his lung, thus collapsing it. His fully avoidable death was the end of my last date with Nangy here.

I gained almost a hundred meters of height by dawn, and the sight was yet again breathtaking, light making its way down the mountain as if claiming all it shone on as its own, the slight warmth of the sun when the light finally descended on me, truly unique…

Hours went by, climbing a few meters here, walking around a dangerous curve there, rewarding myself with an energy bar and a few gulps of water I yet again secure my gear at the bottom of a wall of stone and ice, take my rope and climb the bastard. One axe ahead of the other, securing each hold, no mistakes, no accidents, can’t afford any. Kicking the ice with the front spikes of my shoe to get a footing I climb on, minutes later I reach the top, pull up my gear and move on, still got some distance to cover…

By sunset I reached the edge of Bazhin Basin, shame to lose such good weather but exhaustion equals death here, and I refuse to be killed by eagerness. I set up camp, heat up a cup of soup, and as per custom begin a recording for my Clam, of course it’s not a video call or a live video, just a recording, at best it’ll be a live experience when I show it to her, and at worst my last words, anything can happen, best be prepared…

I turn off the recording, and take a moment to Pull in my infant tears and wipe my face, I then turn the camera off and put it back in the pack. Shit, I’m hyperventilating… getting emotional over a damn dream, c’mon calm down, okay… I’m okay… heh, some rest will straighten me up… almost at the peak and I’m not going to trek anytime tonight, a full nights rest is welcome indeed.

[ I’m running through a maze of trees, eager to reach my destination, specs of skin slip off as I’m brushing against bushes and thorny vines. No pain, just discomfort. Upon reaching the place I aimed for I feel empty, as if I just missed my chance… at what I don’t even know. As I turn around to walk away I am no longer in the forest, I’m standing on a frozen plain, stretching as far as the eye can see in every direction. The only anomaly besides me is a single small rock, little more than a pebble. I bend down to pick it up and find myself at the base of a mountain, not one I recognize.

I marvel at the view, as there is nothing but fog surrounding the oversized hill. I focus on the path forward, pushing on through the dirt and snow. The longer I walk the clearer the path upwards becomes. Clenching my hand tighter around the pebble I press forward, the wind doing little to stop me, sometimes even pushing me forward. The accent soon becomes mundane; following a clear path to the peak leaves no thrill to be had, no satisfaction.

Looking around I’m surprised to see nothing but my reflection in the surrounding fog. As if it’s tracking my progress. After finally reaching the summit I spot a chair. ‘Strange’ I think to myself. The chair feels warm to the touch, making me notice the cold air brushing against my bare face, the chair seems ever so inviting, almost enticing me to place myself in it. It doesn’t take long for me to follow my desire for warmth.

As soon as I sat myself in the chair the fog in front of me clears and the night sky can be seen, the stars being much bigger than I remember, some shine brightly while other twinkle and flicker. ‘marvelous’ I think aloud. I feel so small… so brittle under the lid of the earth. Consciousness wrestles itself from my grasp as sleep overtakes me, the last feeling I register is the pebble escaping from my weakening hold.]

I wake up frightened, my eyes rapidly bulge open. Grasping as much deep and heavy breaths as my lungs can manage. Focus, need to focus... it was just a dream, just a dream... calm down. I try to even out my breathing, frightened I grab for the flashlight and turn it on, that’s when I notice a strange shadow, an incline in the tent, “heavy snow fall?!” I blur out between two breaths. Not good, the forecast didn’t mention this! I check my watch, 7:31am... No sunlight... Definitely not good.

I quickly exit the sleeping bag, taking the flashlight with me while I slowly open the tent entrance, pushing through my flappy door I notice that the snow level has risen by at least 15 centimeters, using my flashlight in front of me only serves to once again quicken my breath. Avalanche, Fuck me...

I gather that I was covered by a huge pile of snow from the avalanche, strange I didn’t wake up. I don’t even know how deep I’m buried, from I can tell I’m stuck in a rapidly depleting bubble of air, with no way to call for help… hyperventilating again, need to get myself together, don’t have much oxygen in here, won’t help to suffocate because of stress.

I munch on an energy bar to calm my nerves, this is bullshit… why was there an avalanche, and near the peak no less… on second thought the cause could be anything from someone who reached the peak and pulled a stupid stunt to a falling satellite crashing in my direction, no use thinking about it now.

I gather my thoughts, I have one oxygen bottle with my gear, the others I left 400 meters and 1600 meters down my path for resupply just in case, seemed reasonable to leave unneeded weight for later use at the time, shame. Well no use dwelling on it. One bottle should last me about 6 hours at most.

Now I could melt a path in the snow with my gas stove, but I run the risk of collapsing more snow, unstable snow is the reason for avalanches after all… I could dig along the rocky mountain face, but there’s the risk of reaching an incline and slipping down.

I could wait for help, but judging by the size of my little safe heaven I have little more than a days’ worth of air left, about 16 hours after counting my oxygen bottle in. there’s no telling what level of damage the avalanche had caused down the mountain, so no hope of rescue in my time frame.

I could use my ice axe and try to climb to the ledge, but I have no idea how deep the snow is, and even if I manage to reach the top of the ledge, it could still be covered in an unknown amount of snow.

Or I could just try to dig my way out horizontally and eventually reach the outside, I would still be at risk of course, collapse for example… and being tightly surrounded by snow is like inviting a stranger named hypothermia to your house.

Not many options and not a lot of time equal a shitty mood. Making a decision is critical though, as the oxygen levels decline so will my reasoning capabilities, hard to survive if you can’t trust your own decisions.

Alright… some coffee and noodles and we begin attempt number 1; Make like a Hare.

I take my ice axe and test out the sturdiness of the snow, starting at the bottom and making my way upwards. The bottom layer is sufficiently compressed, indicating that it has a lot of weight on top of it. That means a shit load of snow. My breathing thickens again, relax…. The top layer of my bubble isn’t much different from the bottom one, just a little more compliant to fall under force.

I deem it reasonable to try and dig my way out of this cave, picking up simple supplies like a little food and water, one ice axe and my camera, placing the flashlight in my mouth I start shaping my little tunnel, carefully cutting layer after layer of snow.

Don’t hurry, breath, relax. The height of the tunnel is about 80cm, don’t want to dig too much into the upper layers, and crouching isn’t that bad. Every two meters of progress I leave a column of snow, 20 cm thick in hope that it fulfils its purpose of support.

After about a 20 meter distance I am no longer certain of my relative elevation to the rock face of the mountain, I should have reached the outside by now; I’ve been progressing in a straight line…

Seconds later my ears twitch, a sound, like that of breaking lumber could be heard for a moment, I stop moving, for an uncertain length of time I listen, just listen… my eyes open as if I’ve seen death itself, and my mind is filled with dread as I notice a crack forming in a column I built only a few meters behind me, I drop the flashlight in a moment of panic and just run back in a straight line, as fast as I can.

The sound thunders through my mind again, resupplying me with a dose of fear. I run and run when finally my feet get tangled, running in total darkness while crouching is no easy feat, and if you add to it the fear of death… I think I got the point though…. As I lie there on my belly, with my hands covering my head while leaving little room for air to accumulate, I hear it… the roar of the mountain.

In that moment I felt so insignificant, I felt like my life is no longer my own, I tried playing with nature thinking it my playground only to find out I was never wanted here, I don’t belong here. It was then that I felt anger boiling my blood while sorrow was cooling it down, and fear was whispering in the background. I was awakened, betrayed and abandoned. With that I let go of my consciousness.

Waking up I lay there crying, waiting to be embraced by the weight of the world, thinking that my time with Clam was too short… why did I ever want to leave my baby girl behind to chase some long forgotten dream? It wasn’t fair to her. I’m her family… then I think of Sarah, how I wasn’t what she wanted me to be, how I was demanding and unsupportive, but she still held her loving gaze towards me… her smile was made from all the best in the world, made me forget…

Nothing… there’s nothing, no pain, am I dead? Probably not, I can still feel my tears rolling, freezing along my face. Must have made it huh… “haha…HaHaaahaa” I laugh aloud, feeling ridiculous for tearing up like a school girl at my age… can’t see anything though, total darkness.

I try to find my way to my tent, there’s a flint striker in my pack, I could use it to light my gas stove and use it as a light source. I feel my way around and find a snow wall, going along with it I slowly start to succumb to fear yet again. What if I caused a chain reaction? What if I made another avalanche happen? What if I don’t find the flint striker? Those questions went on a wild looping rampage inside my mind, spawning guilt and doubt. All I could hear was my ragged breathing and how the snow submitted to me beneath my feet, with every step I made…there was only me in the embrace of the dark and nothing more, truly frightening.

Keep going, don’t stop, no point in stopping, I won’t achieve anything that way. Keep going and find the flint striker… keep going… keep go…. I fall down.

My breathing is merely a wheeze, like trying to drink the last drops of soda with a straw, difficult.

Can’t breathe… I glance at my watch and note that its 4:52pm, already in the danger zone, if I black out again I’m dead… can’t let that happen… I start crawling along the snow, desperately searching for my gear, only luck can guide me in the right direction…

Suddenly my right knee bumps into something, slightly buried in the snow, my earlier stunt must have kicked off a layer of snow near the rock face. I turn to my right and soon enough I find my tent, quickly entering inside and grabbing my pack, my hand finds the much needed oxygen bottle. Pulling my mask in place I secure the bottle to the tube and press the switch.

Taking a few deep rapid breaths proves to be a mistake as I almost black out again, taking a few moments in order to steady my breathing to a reasonable tempo and fight the dizziness, I partly regain my rationality. I check my watch again, 5:13pm. I won’t last long…

I rummage through my pack for the flint striker and gas stove, turning the stove on and grinding the flint I finally manage to light it after a few tries, getting my yellowish flame as confirmation. Now with a light source I breathe out a long and stressed sigh…

This will be my grave huh… how fitting.

I pull out my camera and set it up, pointing the lens at my face I start speaking… I wave my hand

I did try to make it out if it makes any difference to you, didn’t work out though. So here I am recording this tape in hope that someone finds me before it becomes useless. Heh this is probably going to be weird, with me being dead by the time you’re watching this and all… but I’d like to ask for a favor, a dead man’s wish if you will…

I have a daughter, her name is Clementine Schwartz, she’s a medical intern in Germany, berlin. Her contact information can be found on my body, besides the camera, I can only hope you would be so kind as to deliver her this camera, without this specific recording please, this recording is relevant only to you, the one who found me. In no circumstances must it be left in the camera, destroy it as soon as you finish watching please… I won’t let the mountain take me. May you have a pleasant life whoever you are, goodbye.>

Now for the last message for Clam… I sit there smiling at the camera, the yellow light from the gas stove flickers across my face at random intervals…

You know… when Sarah died, I thought I lost myself, I was a broken man, shattered by guilt and grief. I thought I lost it all, I felt no sunshine hit my skin, no light reach my eyes… You brought me back Clam; when I was at my lowest point... You cried, it made me irritated, and I held you up so you would quiet up. You pulled your voice in, your eyes met mine, and it felt as if you were studying me…

And then you just laughed… a laugh so innocent it left me dazed, a laugh so pure I couldn’t help but join in with you. The worst of all days just got so much lighter with you in my arms. The pieces of my broken self were being slowly put together, with every minute I held you to my chest…> I wipe some stray tears from my eyes, and clear my throat.

I tried making my way out, but the snow collapsed and I was almost buried alive, well prematurely I guess heh. Then I lost consciousness and nearly suffocated, barely managing to find my pack in total darkness and reaching an oxygen bottle. And before you start cursing at your Pa, remember that I had and probably still have Hypoxemia, not the light kind. So here we are…

I want you to know that while I am devastated at what I must have caused you and at the whole situation, I am not afraid anymore. I accept this. I wish you could answer me right now, you have no idea how badly I miss your voice… don’t hold this against me.

I love you, my little Clam.>

… I turn off the recording. My chest aches and my mind is splitting apart. The façade is over and I can finally show despair on my face, I can never see my little girl again, that’s the worst of it, not the loneliness, no, that I’m used to by now.

I take the last of my noodles and heat them up, no use in dying on an empty stomach right? Having saturated my body I glance at my second ice axe which I left at the tent. The shadows dancing on its metallic surface make it look so surreal. I take a long hard look at it before taking it by the handle.

“Can’t let you take me Nangy, you know that… honestly, It was a pleasure seeing you again old friend, shame it had to end this way.”

I point the pick of my axe towards me while steeling my resolve… “My terms”… I remember my first climb as the pick enters my throat and exits to the left of my spine. Missed huh…

My back presses against the cold stone of the lover as my body slowly goes limp; a final breath escapes my mangled throat…

My terms…