Ascending to the summit wasn’t so fun as far as I can recall. Several times I chided myself for being an idiot throughout the climb and I rested more than I did walk.

But, I had an awfully awesome guide to cheer me on, encouraging me to continue every single time I almost gave up. When I stopped, he stopped. When I sat, he took a break and smoked a few cigarettes. When I whined, he listened and gave me chocolates. And when I wouldn’t move, he pulled me along like a tug-boat.

There was a part of the climb that had scared the bejesus out of me. I can’t remember exactly at which point, but I remember having to hold on to a rope while climbing more than 45 degrees up with nothing else attached to me. There was nothing on my left or right and the only thing I could see was a ridge and a long, long, long way down. I remember the wind was howling and it was going at me so strong that the rope I was holding on to was swaying like there was no tomorrow. If I had forgotten to pray before the trip, I prayed like I was about to die. I was scared shitless. It was at that point in time that I was glad I had bought insurance before the trip.

And I remember having to negotiate a hop to cross over a wide and deep wedge, which at that time had seemed rather intimidating. That was also the point when the friend I was trekking with suffered massive panic attack and broke down. With the insistence of my guide, he urged me to move on as it was getting too cold to be waiting for anyone. As I found out later, it took her guide a good half an hour to 45 minutes to convince her to cross the wedge. At such altitude, catching up could get difficult.

It felt ages to get to the summit though. The last 100 meters up seemed to take forever, and every single step felt like such a huge effort. When I finally got there at about 6 am, the sun was already up, with a clear blue canvas painted across the sky. At the highest peak, the view was indeed breathtaking. Despite a very crowded summit where everyone started taking pictures, I felt serene. I felt small and humbled at the same time at the sheer grandeur and beauty presented by mother nature.

I sat quietly for a moment hoping to wait for my friend as my guide smoked his 28^th cigarettes. I took in the view, reflected a little bit of my life and at the same time wondering what the hell was I doing up there! And just as I was contemplating to ask if my guide could roll me down instead, he burst my bubble thoughts and told me that it was time to go. It was getting too cold and they don’t encourage climbers to stay on the summit for more than 10 or 15 minutes. I sigh; dreading the long way back down and VERY reluctantly agreed. After doing a 20 minutes descent from the summit, I ran into my friend whom I had to abandon earlier and cheered her up as she made her way to Lowe’s Peak.

It took me another 3 hours or so to get back to Laban Rata. There, I rested and patiently waited for my friend to turn up while I parked my butt on one of the chairs and refused to move an inch. When she finally showed up, we decided to rest for another hour before we started making our way down slightly before noon.

…to be continued…

Next: The Descent