Into the Mind

           It's post nombre deux! This is a story I wrote for my English class last year as part of out narrative unit. Please forgive the inaccuracies on the terrain, I used the "artistic  license" to distort details to my fit my story. The story was inspired by the view of Mount Hood we got while returning from climbing in Smith Rocks, the day after the first snow of the season. 

Enjoy!

Into the Mind

            Ever since I began climbing at the tender age of 9, I’ve wanted to make a first ascent, FA, on Mount Hood during the ferocious winter that takes hold of the mountain every year; leaving my mark on the world of Alpinism. The mountain is alive during winter its veins coursing with rock fall and powdery white avalanches; appealing to the alpinist in search of difficult, legendary, climbing in a spectacular setting. I’ve invested years of training, planning, and commitment into this dream of mine, sacrificing unsuspecting aspects of my life to make this happen no matter what.

            “Yes, Graham, I know it’s going to be busy this weekend, but I have to take the days off. I really need this!” I exclaimed.

            “Alex, I’ve already given you three weeks off this year! I can’t afford to let you go climb Mount Hood, especially this weekend!” Graham refuted.

“Fine, since you won’t let me live my life,”

“You’re fired Alex, I’m sorry, just leave,”

I stormed out of the CiloGear headquarters into the dry arid air of the Portlandian winter, slipping into my car and driving across the city to see my girlfriend, Steph. I picked her up from the Portland Rock Gym, where she teaches kids in the art of climbing, and went home to our four room abode on the outskirts of Gresham, Oregon, just close enough to gawk at Mount Hood’s volcanic hulk looming in the distance. As Steph and I discussed the coming day at home, she hesitantly discussed our intended route and the weather situation. It called for a storm but I stressed that it would not hinder our progress.

“Alex, I don’t think it’s a good idea to climb. What if there are avalanches?” she questioned.

“C’mon Steph, we’ll be fine, light and fast all the way up and down,” I calmly answered.

We finally agreed to hastily pack our climbing gear for the, hopefully, one day ascent and set out on the road at the ungodly hour of 3 am, bound for the quaint resort town of Government Camp at the base of Mount Hood.

Steph and I rolled into the climber’s parking lot in front of the historic Timberline Lodge in Government Camp, just as the sun broke over the vast desert to the east. We intended to procure our permits for climbing that day from the local ski patrol desk inside the lodge. 

“One day pass for climbing Hood, please,” I asked inside.

“Sure. You guys do know that a storm is on the forecast to hit the mountain in about 3 hour’s? You’re prepared for it right?” the weathered face of the male ski patroller manning the front desk inquired.

“Yea, we’ve done Hood and other peaks in storms we’re experienced,”

Steph turned and shot a dirty look in my direction, knowing that I had just lied to the man. I took the permit and thanked him; then we walked outside to grab our gear out of the car and started up the long muddy ski slope leading above the tree line.

Steph and I reached the base of the daunting black mass of the northeast buttress about an hour later. The sky was turning very fast from lovely fluffy clouds to huge monstrous cumulonimbus; then Steph started to hesitate.

“Hey Alex, the sky’s not looking too friendly all the sudden I don’t feel very comfortable continuing up, do you mind if we go down?” she said.

“Steph, I think you’ve been against this climb since I began planning it last year you don’t really want to be up here do you? Well I have news for you, I’m continuing on whether you like it or not!” I shouted.

“Apparently, you’re too stubborn and pig headed to see the dangers that are in front of your face! I mean just look at the avy danger, you’re crazy! I’m going down!” she yelled.

“Be that way, I’ll meet you back at the car after I’ve successfully summited”

Steph untied from our red rope, our special line, and descended into the sparkling white snowy blanket that had enveloped us. Alone and frankly extremely saddened, I started the technical portion of the climb, about 1000 feet of 55 degree ice ending at the summit snowfield solo.

The storm was quickly turning into a howling white blizzard when I reached the top of the first section of ice, about 100 feet off the deck. As I stepped off the top, I heard a tremendous boom and looked up to see a cornice had ripped and a very light powdery spindrift avalanche was careening towards me down the slope. It swept me up like a rip tide, throwing me off the wall and into the coursing flood, knocking me out cold.

I eventually came too buried inside the snow which had settled around me a winter backcountry traveler’s nightmare. The transceiver beacon that I wore under my shell was the only way I was going to live. Being buried in the snow means almost certain death from carbon dioxide poisoning, a fact that was racing through my mind as my life ebbed away. I lost consciousness again in a matter of minutes, my body fighting to stay alive.

I drifted off, cycling through my memories and dreams in a very surreal manner; it was nice and oddly peaceful, and my mind was still keenly aware that this could be it. I then saw a strange blue light in the distance as it began to draw me in, beckoning me to join it. I almost did, if not for the loud pinging that began wailing near my ear, jolting me back to consciousness inside my tomb.

The pinging became increasingly louder until I heard my name being shouted in the distance;

“Aleeeeex! Aleeeeeeex!”

I recognized that voice anywhere; it was Steph’s.

I heard the crunch of footsteps and a shovel digging into the snow, then I was blinded by a bright white light with an outstretched hand; soon enough I was out of my tomb and in an embrace.

“Oh my god Alex, I’m so glad you’re alright!” Steph hugging me tightly “I thought you were dead! We need to get you down right now! Here I’ll help you up and support your weight.”

I nodded and stood up, instantly leaning on Steph’s shoulder, and we started down the mountain.  I quickly began to sob, almost crying, after realizing what had almost just happened. I managed to articulate three coherent words in my state;

“I love you,” I tried to say.

“I love you too.” Steph assured.

We continued down in silence, to an ambulance waiting to sweep me off to an emergency room. My mind was constantly wracked by the realization that my blunt overconfidence and hollow desires had almost gotten me killed. I am content on never making that same mistake ever again, also on the fact that I was going to marry Steph; a very solemn thank you for seeing through my arrogance and ultimately saving my life that day.