Mount Denali. A summit of 20,310 feet above sea level. The highest peak in North America. And I was about to climb it. It wouldn’t be the first mountain I climbed. And it certainly wasn’t going to be the last. I know the drill. By the time you feel as if you can’t walk and breathe, you are probably only half way. You take breaks and often camp over night. But most importantly, you take an incredible photo when you are done.

Maintaining the final view in mind Grasping it, still nowhere in sight Sweat and tears payment in kind Harbouring small pockets of delight Amid bouts of epic self destruction Sabotaging opportunities at hand My faith in God my only protection One set of footprints in the sand They have not once been my own A gratitude beyond my articulation To be wholly loved and truly known Ever present help for every situation

Not mental or physical but spiritual To experience this summit called life Relies on a constant celestial miracle

Everyone at some point in their life has dreamed about climbing a mountain, whether it be Everest, or Snowdon or the Himalayas. It’s always viewed as an exciting, adrenaline filled adventure with lots of risks to your body, however, not everyone considers the psychological aspect of climbing lathe mountains.

Climbing mountains isn’t easy, trust me i know, I’m half way up Everest, and it is super f***ing difficult. There’s snow all around me, deep enough to cover up a body. There’s massive rocks and boulders all around me, sitting there watching my every step. My face is numb, to the post that I can’t tell if I’m talking or not.

Looking around me, all is see is just an endless expanse of white, something so white, hiding so much darkness. You can’t hear anything either, all i can hear is the wind slamming into me and my climbing crew. Their voices are so faint, it’s almost like their at the bottom of the mountain shouting up, but they’re standing right next to me. The mental fortitude you need to climb a mountain, especially Everest (which is what I’m attempting) is beyond compare.

The sheer will you need to carry on, knowing the worst is yet to come, and that there’s a decent chance you could die and be left up here is only put into perspective once you’re on the mountain. The feeling of continuously walking through snow and ice is draining, the constant leg strength needed to push yourself forward along with the painfully cold temperatures is enough to make you want to quit.

Not only that, but you’ve got to deal with the drop in air pressure and having to wear oxygen masks and gear and having to haul that as well. It takes all your resolve not to call it quits and turn back. The fear of climbing something so daunting even before you set foot on the mountain is enough to make you reconsider your life choices.

Having previous climbing experience really helps in the constant motivation and handling of certain scenarios you face. The constant battle between logic and desire is mentally draining as well, logic says to go back down as you’re unsafe and could very well die, however desire says to keep going and to reach the summit and work your way down, and even if you die, you’ve made it.

I highly recommend trying to climb a mountain, maybe start at something small and work you’re way up, or if you do go big at the start, surround yourself with highly experienced climbers and people who know the respective mountain. However, I strongly advise to be ready for the mental challenges of which ever mountain your choose, the physical challenges are tough, but mental fortitude is what is gonna either make you quit, or push you to glory.

Years of training went into this climb, I assured myself. You got this.

But I wasn’t so sure.

“One step at a time,” I said to myself. I wasn’t alone. I had a whole team with me! What could go wrong?

I was used to this: the cold, the wind, the blasting freezing air. But I was getting old. This would be my last climb. I wanted to make it a good one.

As we climbed past Green Boots, we saluted. Just one of the many lives lost here, conditions too dangerous to retrieve their bodies. His namesake boots sticking out of the snow, the rest of him lost to years of snow.

To the top. My lungs heaved from the thin air. I felt that I would crumble and suddenly I felt so tired.

“Hey,” a friend said. “You ready to go back down?”

“I’m ready,” I said.

Today is March 14th 2023, and I am making my mark, by climbing a beast of a mountain. This mountain is known to man all around the world. It’s killed many in its path way, Challenger after challenger. It has many names, the most common name is Mount Everest.

 My name is Carter, and I am a climber. I started climbing at the age of 10. My parents owned a rock climbing park. Since the first day I could walk, I was trained to become a rock climber. My father Jon climbed many different mountains. He had an accident that changed his life forever.

The reason where I am today, and who I became is all thanks to my parents. The year was May 8th 1978. Jon Armstrong had just began his journey to climbing. Young, adventurous, and ambitious was all he was. No other thoughts, like fear, or death. 
 The crisp air was inside his lungs. Taking small breaths became his guide. Weight from his backpack, stabbing him from side to side. Sweat pouring from his forehead as it chilled from the cool air. He pushed through, still climbing the mountain. Feet numb from the dense snow seeping into his boots. Two hours have passed, without a break. 

Muscles giving in. Body exhausted, drained without rest. Jon, pushing through one more minute. Then he’d take a short rest. If he were to rest now he’d lose heat in his body, and freeze to death. For the cold temperatures rising and sun setting soon. He would have to make camp soon. Setting up a tent as harsh winds blow, wasn’t easy. Fingers frozen and numb, paralyzed for the time being. Panic starting to set in. No time to worry what was to come. Eyes weighing heavy. Breath becoming shallow. Heat leaving his body. Awoken suddenly by the sound of the hallowing screams of the wind. Sitting abruptly, Jon realized he had slept to long. Quick on his feet, packing everything up. Sun starting to rise.

Day two: Jon starting his journey once again. Now at the height of 1000 ft. What a mark for him. What an accomplishment to hold. Jon was proud of himself. Three hours had set in, water nearly depleted. Was this the end of his journey? No. Jon kept going. Suddenly Jon’s foot was caught on something. He couldn’t move. Being quick he started shoveling the snow away. Minutes felt like an hour to free his foot. A crack started to appear. His foot slipping in deeper. Was this the end of Jon Armstrong? Before he could panic his whole body dropped into the sink hole. Having quick reflexes, he stretched out his arms. Grabbing onto whatever he could. Slowing sinking, Jon used all his strength he had, to pull himself out. It was working! He had done it! Now lying on his back, breathing heavily. Eyes shut closed from the frozen tears in his eyes. A million thoughts rushing in his head. Slowly getting up, and onto his feet, his legs gave in. A rumble from the mighty mountain turned into an avalanche. Frozen in place, Jon had no choice but to slide his way down the mountain, using his backpack as a sled. Waves of snow moving faster down the mountain catching up to him. Maneuvering using a makeshift sled from his backpack. Tears became bigger as he was losing stuff left and right. His backpack vanished before his eyes. He had no where to run. Hope was lost. He knew it was the end of him.

As the waves of the avalanche grew closer to him, he closed his eyes. Hoping he’d be saved. Crash! The wall of snow hit him, like a ton of bricks. Sending him flying into the air. Tumbling down the mountain, until he came to a stop, crashing into a covered rock. His spine snapped like a twig, paralyzing him. A scream of agony left his exhausted body. 

By the grace of God, rescuers had found him. Lying frozen nearly dead. He was brought to the hospital. Doctors and nurses rushing to save his life. He was alive and recovering. His family patiently awaiting for him to wake up. A few days had passed and he had finally woken up and out of his coma. His family relieved.

Everest the cold killer. Like a mass murder awaiting its victims. Inviting them to a challenge knowing they’d fail. Burying them in his blanket of ice and snow.

Each step i take the tighter my chest goes , it is like a snake suffocating the life out of me but i must continue, stepping over rocks on this warn out path , that's a run-way for the wind as it whips past me shooting ice arrows through my body. I am not cut out for this but i must prove to the other mothers i am much more than a stay at home mom, i live on the edge and take risks! Another shot of arrows is plunging down the mountain freezing me mid stride , why didn't i start with a smaller mountain ? WHY! what i will give right now to be back in my own home in my dressing gown and slippers , eaten up by my arm chair watching some good old T.V. you would think the view would make it worth it, i am surrounded by a white cloud , a blank canvas - i try not to think of it much as claustrophobic will kick in and that's all i need ! so all i can see is this dirty old path and old droppings from a sheep - that's what the countryside smells like to me. The smiles and comments from the other climbers who have already made it to the top and now are walking back home , lucky devils. they say " keep going your half way there!" i wouldn't mind but i have been half way there for the past two hours so am i stuck in a loop to keep rewalking this same path? it would explain a lot , like I'm sure i have seen that shrivelled up dead bush before... what would i say to my daughter ??? " sorry mommy is stuck in a constant loop to walk this same bit of path for the rest of my life" even my 5 year old will think that i have gone mad, well that's what no air does to you. "Good afternoon , is this your first time?" said a chipper man, by the look of him this was not his first rodeo , head to toe in the climbing gear , he had on a hat with a bobble on that was bigger than his head ! i guess it works as a helmet if he catches his foot on a stupid rock. he uses his poles (skies poles i would call them but there is no snow , so is he expecting snow? I hope not that would just be the icing on the cake !) He catches up with me . " good afternoon" i puff and try and do a kind smile but i think its just a plea for help. " Don't worry your..." "half way their yes i have been told but i feel like i have been walking this mountain for years!" i exaggerate waving my hands around hoping that it could move some of the clouds , no luck. the man laughs and strokes his grey beard " Newbie , we can always spot you a mile off , you have this aura that surrounds you." i laugh , well it sounds more like a cough at this point. " how many times have you climbed this one?" i say trying to match his pace. " this will be my 10th time on this one!" he says proudly as he lifts his head a little higher you see the question i really want to ask right now is WHY ?WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? ? but what i really said is " wow that's incredible!" i hope sarcasm is not heard. "ha its better when the clouds have gone but that's nature for you , no two days are the same , every time i come up here i see something new." he rattles on you can feel the passion he has for climbing just from that sentence . i look around again trying to feel what he feels looking at the smaller bushes , that are dotted around on the uneven grass that has been flattened by the wind. i look at the couple who are just ahead of use , laughing every minute of it. i try to soak it all in , just for a second i begin to feel the joy , the pride of getting so far , that's when the mountain had other plans the wind does a battle cry as it runs at me - howling for people to move out of his path so i can get the full power of the mountain . its like the mountain is trying to stop me reaching the top. "look there is the top just a few more steps!" the man eyes sparkle as he looks ahead , like a child in a sweet shop. he done this many times before but he still has the child face and that bubble of excitement to reach the top , to be honest I'm feeling something like that or it could just be relief , i hope there is a lift down , if not i think this kind man may have to carry me down , or this will be my new home . to tell you the truth the top is nice , its quite open , mounds of grass that's grown around the rocks , then their is this small wooden cabin , placed off centre where most of the walkers aim for like moths to a flame. i joined in " what in there?" i turn to the man who looks to be listening to the tunes in his head. " UH HM?" wide eyed and a apologetic smile " what's in the cabin?" i repeat slowly pointing my red frozen hand in the direction it stud. " some where you can have a nice up of tea and put your feet up before the journey home"" his gaze was now fixed on the cabin i was enjoying that sentence till he said " journey home" is there no shuttle bus , lift , plane , portal , anything? " after you " the man pulls open the door and stands to the side to let me in. the room is full of tables and chairs and knakered walkers chatting away hugging their mug of tea. i sit at the first table i find , which is placed beside the window to watch other walkers fight against the wind , their faces light up when they see the hut b. " tea or coffee?" the kind man stands behind the chair in front of me " i myself will have a nice warm cup of tea " he continues " make that for two please" this part isn't so bad after all , i did it! and i still have all my limbs , for now who knows how long it takes for frost bite to kick in but the journey down should be easier , i hope but for now i shall enjoy my hot cup of tea with this kind man.

Her words keep replaying in my head, over and over again. The words seem sharper each time I replay them, cutting into me like knives. I reach a hand up and grab the next ledge while shaking my head to rid my thoughts of her. But how could I?

I ignore my racing mind and try to concentrate on my feet finding the small, rough edges and pushing myself further up the mountain. I take a deep breath in and a feeling of tranquility washes over me. Up here, all alone, I feel free.

“Stop pushing me away!”

Stop it. Stop thinking about her.

“Just listen to me!”

No. This is my moment of peace. She will not ruin it.

“Why can’t you just trust me?!”

Pressure builds up inside of me as her voice echos in my head.

“I’m done putting up with your shit!”

My head pounds and I reach up to grab it. A moment too late I realize what I’ve done. And then I’m falling. Down, down, down. A scream erupts from my throat as I flail my arms and legs, trying to grab hold of a ledge. It’s no use.

Her words play through my head one last time: “I’m gonna leave, and you will die alone. No one will be there to mourn you.”

I guess she was right. Because here I am, plummeting to my death, truly and forever alone.

The legs fell off the stone, Luc tried her hardest to pull herself up but she messed up twice. How could this be the end? With another hard pull, she was up again. Maybe it isn’t as bad after all.

Wind burst through the ears as she ventured her way through the ice roads. Miles were traveled, and Luc was reaching the end of the mountain. The snow went ballistic and the wind was hollowing.

As the wind howled around me I just think about how much longer I have. My mother always said that you would have to face extreme obstacles in life, but she never said anything about this. Every step I take up this mountain I feel like I am getting farther from the top less than closer. I never liked hiking or climbing up things like this but my fiancé begged me to do this with him. “How are you doing honey?”,my fiancé, Ben, yells. “If it wasn’t 20 below I would be doing a lot better.”, I said out of breath. Nothing could beat this view though. Even though I was freezing and my hands were numb, the sunset was so beautiful.

The pressure is almost too much from below, the pressure is almost too much up above. Eyes icy, face cracked, beard frozen. Snow and wind ceaseless. No end, no sight.