Going your own way

July 19, 2017

Going your own way will always be very lonely. I do apologise profusely should this revealation about the affairs of life come as a great shock to you – but it is what it is.

Do not try to seek fellowship with others in the hope that they will understand why you have decided to commit yourself to this solitary path. Just draw strength from your conviction that you have good reasons to commit yourself to this path that no one else dares to tread…..above all smile and learn to be comfortable in your own skin while you walk all by yourself.

At the end of the day there is no such thing as kicking the can down the road….you have to take full and complete responsibility for the decisions in life that you once made…..it will always be that way for the frontier man….that you could say is his karma.

—————————————————————————–

‘I have never told anyone this before. There is a very good reason why my climbing boot was stored in a box and put under my bed for twenty five years.

It all transpired many years ago. By all accounts it should have been a routine climb. There were seven of us. We just tranversed the hardest section of the climb at sixteen thousand feet and the summit was just there right before us…it should have been a cinch stroll.

Then it happened. The rope tugged suddenly. It jerked so hard. I had barely time to dig my ice pick into the snow to arrest the fall. We were tethered to one another and eventually we all came to a sudden halt on the edge of a promontory. Two the last climbers were dangling in mid air. One them had a deep gash on his right leg. A part of the bone was sticking out…it was very bad.

Eventually we pulled them up to finally rest at the edge. We had only four hours of daylight left. The winds had began to pick up quite unexpectedly and from the wispy trails at the edge of the cloud formation. I knew right down to the marrow of my bones a hundred hour blizzard was headed straight our way…we had to get down fast. The temperature would drop like a rock. But there wasn’t nearly enough rope to fashion a rig. No way. Besides it was way too steep to lower the man who had broken his leg down. No way. No possible way. We had to get down. We had to do it fast.

They were all looking at me mournfully with imploring…pleading eyes. But I knew what had to be done….if we didn’t shuffle we would all certainly perish. The wind had begun to pick up in earnest. We needed to get down fast before that bitch curled her fingers like talons and start swiping at us. One of the boys screamed out – we can’t just leave him!…the wind tore his words into ribbons like a forlorn rag. Others had begun to fashion a rig of some sort with whatever little rope we had as if by dedicating themselves to some great act of futility they could somehow even out the lousy odds…or maybe they just wanted to do something…anything to stop them from facing the brutal reality of the incomprehensible odds. We were all young and undoubtedly stupid even when we all believed otherwise.then there were others who simply buried their faces into the cold abysss of the rock face and cried like children. While I looked on stoically.

I told the man who broke his leg. We would pluck him out at first light the following day…we no laterns..no tentage…I took off my jacket. While the rest began to dig out a make shift cavern to slip him in to weather out the storm.

Thereafter I rallied the others to make haste to descend in double quick time. When the rest of the boys were busy roping for the descent. I went up to the man and slipped him a razor blade. No words passed between us. He knew. So did I.

The following at first light we barely managed five hundred feet before the weather pushed us right back like a wall of ice. God damn it! I tried to so very hard to break thru. But it was just bloody impossible to even see beyond my hand. It was a full toss blizzard. We regrouped into teams of two and tried thrice to break thru and on every single occasion we were beaten back.

On the third day. The weather cleared somewhat and one of the teams managed to finally break thru with the much needed rescue rope…but it was too late.

No one spoke a word on the way down. No one even so much as looked at another. I knew what they were all thinking….but it was six to one.

No spoke me after that day…I knew what they were all thinking….but it was six to one. I had to make that fateful call….it was six to one.

Fucking six to one! Do all what to die. It was six to one.

Six to one.

Six to one.

Six to one…..I had nothing resembling a choice. I had to make the call.

Six to one.

Six to one.

Six to one….six to one. No rope. One hundred kilo blizzard closing in fast and furious. Six cry babies who can’t even get their minds to wrap around those odds because they can’t bear to call it for what it really was…a hopeless situation.

Who else was there to suck up all the shit and get us all down. No! Fuck you all! I had to make the call. I made with my eyes wide open…it is what it is!

Six to one.

Six to one.

Six to one.

You’re all here because I made that call! You have every right never to talk to me again for the rest of your life. But you don’t have a right to judge me! That you do not have a right to do.

I go thru it in my head every day….maybe for the six millionth time…and it’s always the same brick wall….no rope. No way out.

Six to one.

Six to one.

Six who would live on for only one who we had to leave behind.

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