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.