From climbing up mountains to jumping off them
Below the tip of my toes is a 300-metre drop onto the glacier below. My foot is curled over the edge of the rock. Gaining maximum purchase as I push off at a perfect angle, pre-determined by a thousand other jumps. Ingrained into my muscle memory. Practice doesn’t necessarily make perfect, but it does make permanent so I’ve made sure to practice perfectly.
Some times I think to myself why the fuck do we do this. I sat in the helicopter swooping around the sharp valley ridges. The pilot would drop me in Saas fee so I could pick up my car and drive to the hospital. Although everything was now ok, this is when the flood of thoughts and emotions hit.
DAY 1
We drove for 5 hours over rough tracks, through rivers and over makeshift bridges. Heading deeper into the valleys of the Tien Shan mountains. Each valley led to another, branching off again and again until finally a wide river stood between us and our base camp. We had driven hundreds of kilometres but as the crow flies we were only 50km from our hostel.
James and I went to school together, where I remember the first time I found out he climbed and I asked if my trainers where good enough to climb in. 10 years later having never climbed a single route together, we are bivied out at the base of the North Face about to attempt the infamous Heckmair route.
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