When I got to the base of the mountain, It dawned on me that
maybe I had bitten off more than I could chew. The summit looked
insurmountable. My sherpa guide, "Jamjang" asurred me, in his
"Tibetan" language, that the climb would be a success.
After we set up base camp, we started out into the snow, even
though it was bitter cold, I was warm in my parka from the J
Peterman catalog, with six pockets in a brushed cotton canvas,
available in mens medium, large, and extra large. After crossing
many crevases over crumbling ice bridges, we set up for the night.
Perhaps tommorrow we will reach the summit.
In the morning, after "Jamjang" and I had wonderful breakfast of
roast foxbat and rice, we set out for the summit. It was very tough
going, it seemed as if every step forward was two steps back. The
winds were 60 mph +, but we kept on going. Jamjang and I were at
our limits when we saw the peak. We helped each other along,
pulling and tugging, ice caked to our beards. THEN finally we had
made the summit. Triumphantly we looked around, Thumping our chests
in pride, and saw in the distance, as the swirling snow was giving
way to the gleaming golden sun. A ..... a ... MACDONALDS?
My suggestion to any "new" climbers, would be to attack the
summit from the Western face.
