Ice and light

I woke up to the refreshing green light coming through the pine tree canopies. The awaited thought of being just a few miles away from the base of the mountain. A mountain that had been calling me since I first saw her in my dad’s magazines when I was 6. As my mind colored with these memories, I monotonously packed my sleeping bag, put on my pants, and headed out of the tent. I took some water and gulped in a piece of bread and jelly. My partner, immersed in his own thoughts, was moving at the same pace as me. To the point that we had packed everything, like we practiced a million times, in less than two minutes. As we looked back at the camping area, it felt like I was leaving something invisible. Unaware of it yet, I was leaving an open box containing my innocence.

We walked for about six hours. Often silent, reviewing in our minds the endless possibilities of the mountain. Until, we got to a clearing. There, only a few miles away, stood the giant body of rock and ice. Leaning towards us as the clouds slid back. We froze before its majesty. Even if you can imagine and manipulate a number of more than three zeros, you won’t know its vastness until you stand at its feet. I felt like a drop of water landing in an ocean.

As we hiked up, attached to each other by a single rope, the vegetation started to fade. As if we were entering a different planet made of ice, rock, and wind. Our breathing also changed as the atmospheric pressure lowered. We were breathing through mental masks as if this new planet lacked oxygen.

In a moving meditation, I climbed up. Reading each crack, bump, and dip in the wall. Unaware of the moment my body became the mountain because it seemed like I wasn’t anything without it.

Higher and higher we went, reaching a new wall and a new glacier. It seemed like the ground was too far away to ever go back. Our bodies were exhausted. Stepping one limb at a time, analyzing the clouds and wind, the falling rocks and snow.

As the night approached, we started to look for a decent camping spot. We were hoping for a cave but only found a dent of rock and snow. We set up the tent. Digging it deep into the ground and attaching it to whatever rocks we found. A rush of wind started to form so we were extra careful on tying the tent. I then melted some ice to drink and, as I gulped it down I could feel my throat burning from the dryness. We had been climbing in water the whole day but were unable to drink as it was frozen. All I wanted to do was lay down and fall asleep but when we realized the power of the wind, we decided to take turns in guarding. I would be the first to do so.

Outside the tent, the freezing wind felt like a magic carpet that could easily pick me up. I walked around to maintain warmth but I could barely see beyond my hands. It was a new moon and fog had surrounded my body. The constant fear of walking a foot too much and falling off the edge, or losing the tent kept me awake. But the cold in my body was a constant pain that took my focus away. The hours felt like stretched-out days, unaware of their timing, they decided to stay longer than what any hour should.

By the millionth time I looked at my watch, it was finally my turn to sleep. Rave’s sleeping bag felt so warm that my whole body realized its numbness. I laid down, mentally unable to get up again, and fell asleep in seconds. Even though, the tent was roaring and shaking with the wind.

Glaring white light, shaking sensation, and the noise of windy snow hitting the tent.

Rave woke me up, startled by the turn that things had taken. What had started like a partially clear and windless day had become a snowstorm that threatened with dusting us off the edge of the mountain.

I got up and, in seconds, jumped out. We held the tent with our hands and tried to take it down but it was too late. It stumbled down taking a chunk of snow with it. There was no point in trying to look for it as we could barely see our own hands.

How had things taken such a turn? What mistakes had we made throughout the day that had lead us to this point of rushing for survival? No time to think.

We started to climb down in an effort to find a cave or any other shelter. I knew rave was there because I could feel him but I was unable to see or hear him. As we moved, we had the constant feeling of walking with our eyes closed on a slippery tight rope.

I felt a sudden loss, a feeling of being all alone on this harsh mountain. I had lost Rave. In a rush, I traced my steps backward, trying to figure out where he could have gone. I pointlessly crawled to be able to see further but my lenses were full of ice and the wind around me made a blinding curtain of snow.

I moved to the left screaming “Rave!” To the top of my lungs. In a blink, I slipped down a hill of snow. Stumbling and unable to distinguish between the floor and the sky. I swung my ice ax with all my strength, feeling it sink into the thick snow. My arms felt a big pull that stopped my momentum. I was hanging on the verge of a cliff. One foot moved sideways, then one arm, and slowly by slowly I was able to traverse onto a platform big enough to hold my whole body. I then crawled upwards, adrenaline being the only thing that kept me going, as my body and mind were completely drained out. I was moving without even trying to figure out where I was. Then, I saw a few rocks framing a fluorescent green cave. Like a magnet, my limbs dragged me inside this hole and I lost all sense of feeling.

I opened my eyes to a ceiling of green crystals and volcanic rock. Although dimly, the crystals emanated warming light. Probably the only reason why I didn’t freeze to death. Slowly by slowly every part of my body recovered feeling. Although my toes and fingers stayed completely numb as they were probably frozen.

I felt my armpits burning from the pull and my back and legs as if they had just been hit by a car. But the worst pain of all came all of a sudden, the pain of losing Rave. Maybe he had been able to safely get down from the mountain but something inside of me told me that he hadn’t. That I had lost my best friend to this unforgiving storm.

With a body, heart, and mind that felt alien to me, I crawled towards the wall. But, as I touched it, I felt a wave of sudden burning anger. As if somebody had punched me with a fist of heat. I quickly backed away and rushed towards the exit but the wind and snow prevented me from going out. I stayed still for a minute. Thinking about where that anger could have come from. But I couldn’t identify with it. I felt every emotion from elated by the beauty of the crystals to saddened, fearful, and, disappointed by the way things had turned out. But no anger.

Unable to go out, I decided to explore deeper into the cave. I walked for about an hour in the deem green light until I reached a widening. An underground world of ice. With a lake of ice surrounded by walls of even clearer ice. Ice that seemed harder than the rock itself. It was as if I had entered a palace that reflected the light of a forest. In which the crystals were the trees and the sun at the same time, with their emanating heat and brightening light. A flashback to what seemed like years ago but had only been a couple of days; waking up surrounded by canopies of trees.

I leaned forward to touch the ice but unexpectedly slipped. Sliding down for the second time in that day. Only this time, it was a smooth gliding across miles of ice.

Just as I was thinking that I would slide on forever, I crashed onto a pile of fresh snow. Where could snow come from in the middle of a cave? Realizing my thirst, I reached for a fist of snow but was unable to separate one. I tried again but it was as if this snow could be pressed, like my body did to it when crashing, but could not be separated. I tried again and again, feeling desperation enter my body, which had already realized its thirst with this tempting snow as a constant reminder. I leaked the snow but no water would come out. I held it, hugged it, punched it and nothing. My body heat could not even melt it. I decided to look for something that could help me dig it out. I walked around this dessert of ice but could see nothing that could help me out. Suddenly, I thought about the heat of the crystals. What if they could somehow melt the snow?

I carefully crawled on this slippery surface until I reached a wall of crystals. Instantly feeling that unwelcomed anger burning through my veins. I grabbed a cam from my harness and started hitting the crystals until one popped out. I quickly grabbed it feeling a warm sensation and threw it against the pile of snow. As if it was the sharpest knife, it cut through the snow leaving a hole in its path. I couldn’t understand how it didn’t cut through my hand. It was as if its sole purpose was to only cut through this snow. I walked over to the pile of snow and, using the crystal as a knife, I took a piece of snow. It was just like cutting through an apple. I then melted the snow onto my hand by placing it next to the crystal.

Drinking from it felt like the purest honey-like water had just entered my body and, in instants, rejuvenated it by melting all the pain on my throat. It is beautiful what the little things can do when you have no expectations of reward.

I had gotten to this point in the day when I could only do through my impulses and feelings, I could not act or think rationally as my physical self was exhausted. So, with a feeling of being snoozed by the elixir of life, called water, I laid down to sleep.

When I finally woke up, unknowing of where I was, I stayed staring at the twinkling green roof until I slowly recovered the notion of desperation. I was inside a cave that extended for miles, jailed by a snowstorm, on top of a mountain, and without anyone to turn to. I couldn’t think of any way to get to civilization but I anyways began to walk. I reached the narrowing exit from the ice castle. Not without looking back to stare at its beauty. As I continued to move through the cave, I started to see the glaring light of the outside world. It looked as if I had traveled back in time to the day before. When the sky was blue and the mountain clear. Afraid of going out, but more so of staying in, I stepped outside the cave.