What's His Passion 2 - Climbing the Savage Mountain (11 page)

“You know I’m not Jensen’s biggest fan. Probably never will be. I hold grudges like no one’s business, but that’s not the point. You forgave him and you love him. I can see how much he loves you every time he looks at you. There won’t be any breaking apart this time.”

Toby hoped so, and to be honest, he didn’t have any doubts that their life together would be forever—or until one of them died. He was just hoping it wouldn’t be Jensen in the next month or so while he was away.

“His climbing bothers you, doesn’t it?”

When did his best friend get so perceptive?

“Of course it does. Would you be happy if the woman you loved routinely climbed twenty-six thousand foot tall mountains with only ropes and bits of metal to keep her anchored to the rock?” Toby paced again, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he talked. “I guess I don’t get why he does it.”

“It’s a rush and he’s a junkie. Brockhoff used to get his high from drugs and alcohol. Now that he can’t get it that way, he had to find some other way. I’m guessing that once he gets these last two out of the way, he’ll do his best to find a less scary way to get his fix.” He chuckled. “Hell, adopt some children. I bet that’ll give him the pulse pounding fun he’s looking for. From what I’ve heard, they scare even the most laid-back person.”

Toby grinned. “We talked about it, but we’re going to wait until after he gets back from his K2 climb. You ready to be an uncle?”

Simpson blinked. “Holy shit! I never thought about that. I will be the world’s greatest uncle, you know.”

“Yeah. I can’t wait to watch you spoil them.” Toby glanced at his watch. “Let’s go grab something to eat. I have to work late tonight on this new client Abramson gave me.”

Simpson jumped to his feet then slung his arm over Toby’s shoulders. “I’ll buy. I’m getting an amazing bonus for pulling off a huge buy earlier today.”

“Good. Then we’re going somewhere expensive,” Toby teased, making sure he had his phone in case Jensen ended up somewhere he could get a signal and call.

Chapter Ten

Despite all I’ve seen and experienced, I still get the same simple thrill out of glimpsing a tiny patch of snow in a high mountain gully and feel the same urge to climb towards it.

—Sir Edmund Hillary

Jensen stumbled into Jigger when his friend stopped suddenly. “What the hell, Jigger?” he groused as he grabbed a hold of his shoulder to keep from falling over. He shifted his backpack to even out the load again. “Warn a guy next time.”

“We’re here.” Jigger pointed to the city of brightly colored tents that had seemed to appear out of nowhere.

Jensen glanced around and couldn’t help a little touch of disappointment from taking hold of him. He’d read the articles about the trash strewn around the base camp, left behind from hundreds of expeditions to the summit. Yet reading about it hadn’t prepared him for the reality. Empty oxygen tanks and broken climbing equipment lay in heaps, along with discarded food containers.
No wonder the Nepalese government instituted the rule about climbers having to carry out so many pounds of trash. Humans can’t help destroying even this most sacred of mountains.

Yet when he looked back at the tents, his heart lifted slightly at the sight of the Buddhist prayer flags that decorated several stone cairns. He knew previous climbers had built them in homage of lost comrades and to lift prayers up to the spirits that haunted the slopes and crevasses of Everest. Whether most of the people in camp believed in God or not, they all believed in the mountain as a real entity. Superstition convinced them to place offerings to Everest in the hope for good weather and an uneventful climb. Jensen would be placing his own offering at the foot of the mountain and hope it accepted it.

Even with the intrinsic danger of the climb, the odd cheerfulness of the flags that seemed to point to the summit gave him hope for a successful mission. While the mountain held all the cards, he and the others trusted in their own abilities to weather the roughest patches and triumph in the end.

He laughed. There was always so much optimism at the beginning, but by the time they pushed for the summit, they’d all be worn down by the very object they wanted to conquer.

“Welcome to Everest Base Camp, everyone,” Hightower, the head guide for their expedition, called from where he was at the front of the line. “Our tents should be up and ready to go. Follow me and I’ll show you where our camp is.”

“It looks like half of the other groups are here,” Jensen mumbled to Cat as they shuffled along the trail.

“Well, it’ll be crazy crowded when the rest arrive,” she said.

It was rather noisy with people climbing out of their tents to greet the newcomers. It was obvious that the climbing community was a rather small one, all things considered, especially for those who have attempted—and succeeded at—any eight thousand meter climbs.

Jensen waved to several people he’d met on some other mountain during his adventures, promising he’d catch up with them later after he’d gotten settled in his tent. There would be a lot of tall tales being told that night with maybe a drink or two enjoyed. Not by him though.

“Here’s our spot,” High told them, gesturing to the collection of tents at the edge of the camp. “We won’t be the last ones for long. Get settled in. We’re going to rest for two days then we’ll start making trips up to set up Camp One. My plan is for us all to try and summit around May twenty-seventh, but we’ll see. As every one of you knows, no plan is set in stone or fool-proof, especially when it comes to Everest. The forecast says we should be getting some good climbing weather while we’re here, but again, it’ll be a crap shoot on whether that happens or not.”

Jensen went to find his tent then he set it up next to Cat and Jigger’s slightly bigger one. One of the Sherpas came around to check to see if he needed any help, but Jensen sent him to help someone else. He wanted to be as self-sufficient as possible while there. Not that he wasn’t going to appreciate the fact that the Sherpas were going to be among the ones breaking the trail and setting the ropes all the way to the summit. They would also be doing most of the hauling from one camp to the next. He had a feeling that the thirty pounds of his personal backpack might be more than enough for him to deal with each day.

He might’ve been a natural climber—or so Jigger and Cat told him—but he didn’t like being in the lead. Over the years, he’d also learned he didn’t like climbing with a lot of people. With some of their lower climbs, he’d taken off on his own, rejoining the others later on in the day. He wasn’t entirely sure he’d do that on Everest, even if High allowed that to happen.

“Hey, mate, you all good in here?” Rodney stuck his head through the tent flaps and grinned at him.

“Yeah. Do you need help with anything?” He settled his pack and stuff in one of the corners.

“Sure. You can help us set up the main tent. It’s where we’ll meet each morning to figure out groups and when each one is going out. Plus, you can get info from the outside world there.”

Jensen trailed behind Rodney. “I have a satellite phone, so I won’t be hanging out trying to make calls.”

“Good, because that shit is fucking expensive.” Rodney shared a grin with him. “I still use it to call home once in a while. Don’t want them to think something happened to me.”

“Yeah. That’s why I have one as well. It’s come in handy for some of the climbs I’ve done over on this side of the world.” Jensen nodded to High when they reached the main part of their section of Base Camp.

“I’ve recruited more help, High.” Rodney motioned to Jensen. “Schwartzel here can get the sat phone set up.”

“Schwartzel? I thought your name was Brockhoff,” High commented, as he strolled toward them.

High was a big man with broad shoulders and a large booming voice. He was a legend in the climbing world, having made the summits of Everest and K2 three times each, plus he was one of the ‘eight-thousanders’—that legendary group of people who had summitted all fourteen of the mountains that were over eight thousand meters high. There weren’t that many who had the energy—and luck—to have that happen for them.

People would follow High to the ends of the world because of the sheer confidence he inspired in others. High had never met a person he didn’t like, but he had a ferocious temper and if he thought someone was doing something stupid or dangerous, he’d call that person out. Jensen had seen an example of that when they’d climbed Annapurna I three years ago. High had chewed out one of their fellow climbers who had decided to go off on his own. When he’d done that, he’d set off a slight avalanche, that could’ve have turned into much more but they’d all been lucky that day.

High had been incensed and would’ve beaten the guy to a bloody pulp if Jensen and one of the other climbers hadn’t interceded. He had thrown the guy off the expedition. Jensen didn’t know if that climber ever made it to the summit or not. High had gotten the rest of them up there and on that mountain, it had been a major feat, considering the odds were against them the entire way that season.

“Man got married before he came out here. Helluva honeymoon, if you ask me. Leaving his blushing husband back home in… Where do you live exactly?” Rodney stared at Jensen.

“Connecticut,” Jensen murmured.

“Ah right.” Rodney winked at him before wandering off to help set up a small table and some camp chairs.

“Schwartzel, huh? Wouldn’t be that guy you couldn’t stop talking about when we climbed Annapurna I, would it?” High motioned for him to come over to him.

Jensen was shocked High remembered anything he might have said during that trip. To many, High came across as very self-absorbed and non-social, but that wasn’t it. High was extremely focused and all he really cared about was climbing, making him the perfect guide for expeditions to some of the tallest mountains in the world.

“Yeah, he is.” Jensen touched his thumb to his ring then took the cables High handed him.

“Glad to know it worked out for you,” High told him before they got caught up in setting up the sat phone and other equipment.

By the time they were done with everything, darkness was starting to fall and Jensen headed out to find Cat and Jigger. When he finally tracked them down, they were visiting with a group of Brits who’d arrived at Base Camp shortly after they had. He was enveloped into the gathering with friendly greetings and offers of a sip or two of whiskey. He turned them down.

It sounded like all the expeditions that had shown up that day were going to stay in camp for two days to rest up from the hike in. There was a South Korean and an Australian contingent that had come up three days before them and they were going to start working their way up to Camp One.

“They set to summit first?” Jensen asked one of the Brits.

“Aye. They’ll be breaking the trail for the rest of us. Their Sherpas have already gone up once to set the ropes up to the first camp.” The man curled his upper lip. “Not sure about the Koreans though. None of them have done high altitude before. Sounds like this will be the first major climb for all of them. Hope they have some good guides and they listen to their Sherpas. Everest is no place for amateurs.”

“What about the Australians?” Jigger joined their conversation.

The Brit laughed. “Rodney vouched for them. Said they were all good guys and could do the mountain if they didn’t let their egos blow them out before they’re ready to climb it.”

Jigger nodded. “Over zealous?”

“Either that or they’re way more confident about their abilities than they should be,” he said.

It happened to some people who had the hubris to believe that because they were athletic and quite capable with most sports, they could come to Everest and climb it without any problem or prior experience. Everest didn’t take kindly to pretentious ‘wannabes’. The mountain would weed out the people who didn’t have the drive and mental strength to conquer it. Some would return another year and maybe even make it. Others would leave this mountain broken in some imperceptible way, never to climb again.

Jensen believed standing on the summit was his reward for knowing how insignificant he was compared to the might of Everest. The Himalayan mountain range was over sixty millions years old and had been there long before humans walked the earth. It would be there when humans died off. Jensen’s moment on the mountain was a mere second in time and he would leave no mark on it.

He yawned, tired from the long hike up to camp from Lukla and the thinner air he still had to get used to. Stretching, he looked at Jigger. “I’m going to turn in early tonight.”

Jigger waved at him and he thanked the Brits for their hospitality. By the time he reached the end of his expedition, he’d probably call most of the people he met at Base Camp friends.

After zipping up his coat and tugging on his hat, he turned on his flashlight then began his trudge back. High and Rodney were still in the main tent, going over some maps when Jensen wandered past. He waved to them before entering his home for the next month or so.

Once he got out of his jacket and layers of fleece, he stripped then changed into thick sweats and a heavy sweatshirt. Jensen got settled in his sleeping bag, glad that he had gotten a new one before he left. He pulled out the notebook he’d started writing Toby letters in and opened it to the one he’d started that morning before they’d left their last stop.

After digging out his pen, he picked up where he left off, describing the scenery and how he felt reaching Base Camp. He wanted Toby to know how it felt like his journey was just now starting and how everything leading up to that moment had just been an appetizer to the main course.

* * * *

Toby jerked upright when the door to his office flew open to slam against the wall. Simpson caught it as it ricocheted back toward him. Blinking, Toby tried to figure out what time it was and why Simpson was glaring at him as though he were furious with Toby.