What's His Passion 2 - Climbing the Savage Mountain (14 page)

“Go get in your tent and warm up. I’ll bring you some water.” Jensen was starting to feel better. His head cleared and it was a little easier to breathe.

Coleman, the expedition’s third guide, emerged from his tent and stared down the mountain. Jensen wandered over to him, knowing he should be getting in his sleeping bag and drinking, but he had to know what was going on.

“Have you heard from High?”

Shooting him a quick glance, Coleman nodded. “High’s taking Evans and Baylor back down to Base Camp. He’ll spend the night down there and come back up here tomorrow to help us get down to Camp Two.”

“Maybe he should just stay at Base Camp and meet us at Camp One. I think, as long as Rodney’s up here with you, the rest of us will be okay,” Jensen suggested. “He has the two least experienced climbers with him.”

“You’re right, but I don’t think he’ll risk leaving us all up here on our own. Rodney’s got a lot of time on Everest, but I don’t. I’ve only done the climb once and I didn’t even summit that time.” Coleman rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll radio him and see what he has to say.”

“Did he say what’s wrong with them?”

Coleman shook his head. “No. You can ask Rodney. He should be back here in about twenty minutes.”

It was a good thing, because the sun would be setting soon and no one wanted to be climbing in the dark. Most would be in their tents, trying to stay warm as the wind howled around them. Rodney had become Jensen’s tent mate over the course of the climb, so he knew he could catch up on the news when Rodney returned.

He checked in with Cat and Jigger, both of whom looked whipped. He made sure they had water, Gatorade and food. “I’m leaving for Camp Two at around four in the morning.”

“We’ll probably wait until six,” Jigger told him, his voice hoarse. He’d been complaining about a sore throat and difficulty breathing the day before. Jensen thought his friend needed to slow down a little. Jigger had been pushing himself a lot harder than Jensen had.

“Cool. I’m going to climb in my tent. I’ll see you at Camp Two tomorrow.” He gave Cat a hug before leaving.

After settling in his sleeping bag, Jensen tugged out a notebook and pen he’d tucked in his backpack. He knew he wouldn’t be writing anything when they did their push to the summit since they weren’t stopping anywhere on the way down. Just going to the summit and back to Base Camp. There would be a short stop at Camp Four to pick up another supplemental oxygen tank on the way down.

It was the second notebook he’d used during the trip. The first one was full of his thoughts and observations of the people and scenery around him. He knew Toby would love reading about the day-to-day routines of climbing a mountain. It was going to be a fun way, along with all the pictures he’d taken, to look back on the adventure.

He’d called Toby the last time they were at Base Camp, but he’d told him that he wouldn’t be calling until after the summit try. He needed to keep his mind focused entirely on the climb. Getting distracted with thoughts of Toby could cause him to make a mistake and that was the one thing he didn’t want to do at twenty-six thousand feet.

Jensen had just finished up his letter and was getting ready to put the notebook away for the night when Rodney unzipped the flap before almost falling in. Jensen caught the guide before he landed on his face. He helped Rodney get out of his jacket while making sure he had water.

Once Rodney was tucked into his sleeping bag, a Sherpa delivered a bowl of Ramen noodles and more water for him. Jensen took it then fed it to him because Rodney’s hands were trembling from the cold. When the bowl was empty, he stuck it in the corner of the tent, making a note to find a Sherpa in the morning and return it.

“Holy fuck, man. It’s cold out there. Not sure if a storm’s moving in or something, but I told everyone to stay in their tents tonight.” Rodney covered his blond hair with a wool hat then put gloves on. “What time were you thinking of heading out?”

“At four.”

Rodney nodded. “High said you’d start heading out before the others, now that we’re so close to the push.”

Jensen shrugged. “I was conserving what energy I could. There aren’t any prizes for being the first into each of the camps. The important thing is the summit, plus I think my plodding along has helped me acclimatize a little better. Still not going without oxygen to the top.”

He grinned and Rodney snorted.

“A couple of the Brits are going to try it,” Rodney told him.

“Good luck to them. I just hope they have a guide that’ll stay close because from what I understand, it’s the coming down that gets a little hairy when you don’t have oxygen to breathe.” He shifted in his sleeping bag. “What happened to Evans and Baylor?”

“Not sure. Evans doesn’t seem to be sick, played out or anything like that. I think he’s scared. Everest is more than he thought it would be. Some people are arrogant that way. They see a picture of it and they say, ‘it’s just a mountain’. All they see is the rock and the snow. Some people don’t see that Everest is so much more. It’s a dream and a goal.”

“It’s a killer if you don’t respect it,” Jensen pointed out.

Rodney nodded. “Aye. Without respect, it will crush a person and that’s what happened to Evans, I think. His ego was bigger than his ability.”

He’d seen other people in some of the other expeditions who could be described that way as well. Jensen wondered how many of them would make it.

“What about Baylor? He didn’t strike me as that kind of person.” Jensen lay down, shoving and tweaking his pack that he used as a pillow. He tried not to think about the perfect pillow he had on his bed at home.

Rodney wiggled and grunted while he got arranged in his own sleeping bag. “He’s sick. Not sure what’s wrong, but it’s not his courage that’s the problem. High didn’t know either. Figured they’d get him checked out by the doctors at Base Camp.”

“I hope it’s nothing major,” Jensen murmured. As much he hadn’t been fond of either man, he didn’t want them to get hurt.

“He stopped right after the ladder you got over. I saw him there, but High was with him and Evans, so I stayed with you and the others around you. I’m going to send Coleman down with the little group going with you. I’ll come down later with the others.” Rodney coughed then sighed. “I’m not going to get much sleep tonight.”

Jensen agreed. “Maybe when we get back to one of the lower camps, the wind won’t be so bad.”

Rodney didn’t answer and he figured it was simply because the guide didn’t want to waste any more air—and energy—than he needed. Jensen rolled over onto his back, staring up at the ceiling of the tent. He listened to the nylon flutter as the wind howled by. It sounded as though there were monsters battling outside their enclosure. He wondered if he looked outside, would there be yetis fighting?

He’d spent so many nights trying to sleep, only to have the very air around him do its hardest to keep him awake. Everest fought the people who tried to climb her, reluctantly giving up an inch, but claiming a piece of a climber’s spirit with every step he took. Jensen knew that while he’d be able to say he summitted Everest and be proud of it, only other people who were on the mountain with him, would understand the toll it took on his deepest soul.

You’re getting too fanciful. It’s just a mountain. Nothing more or less than what it seems.
Shaking his head, he closed his eyes to try and see if he’d be able to get any kind of sleep. Probably not at the higher camps. When they got back down to Base Camp, it wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe he wouldn’t be so exhausted and while he lay in the darkness, listening to the power of nature whipping by him, he could admit to himself that he was exhausted. Not taking the lead to break the trail or even just trying to get into the camps first hadn’t really saved him any energy, though he thought he was a little better off than Jigger and Cat.

“When we start the push, it’s going to be worse,” Rodney whispered.

Jensen didn’t acknowledge what Rodney said, though he knew it would be. He had a feeling he wouldn’t be getting any sleep until he came down the mountain for the last time.
Why do I love climbing mountains? Why lose billions of brain cells to spend five minutes at the top?
He could almost hear Toby asking him those questions.

He pondered them and he couldn’t come up with a good answer—because he could do it while not everyone else could, because it was a better high than he’d gotten from any drug or alcohol. It was proving he had the courage to do something most of the population wouldn’t.

“Because I’m hoping my parents will see my name on the news and will be proud to say I’m their child,” he murmured into the wind-battered silence of the tent.

Either Rodney chose to ignore him or the guide had passed out in exhaustion. Jensen was glad, since he hadn’t wanted to admit what he’d just said to anyone. Yet while he thought that, he found himself wishing that Toby were there, if only to hold him tightly and tell him that he was proud of Jensen, that Jensen didn’t need his parents because Toby loved him and would be more than happy to proclaim it to the world.

Hell, he didn’t need to climb a freaking mountain to get Toby to do that.

* * * *

“I fucking miss him, Simpson,” Toby slurred as Simpson slung his arm around his shoulders then started moving him upstairs.

“I know you do, but remember…if you love something, you set it free. If it comes back to you, it’s yours. If it doesn’t, then it’s fucking stupid,” Simpson said.

Toby squinted as he tried to get his alcohol-soaked brain to process what his friend had said. “I don’t think that was the actual saying.”

“I don’t really care what the saying was, Toby. No more liquor for you. You’re not supposed to have any in the house anyway.” Simpson snorted. “Jensen’s going to be disappointed in you.”

“Why? I never took the oath of sobriety. I did it because it was easier not to when he was here.” Toby exhaled loudly when Simpson dropped him on his bed.

Simpson tugged off Toby’s shoes and his belt, but left him dressed. “I’m going to leave some aspirin and a bottle of water on the night stand. This will
not
happen again. No more drinking while he’s away. Hell, it’s not like you don’t know where he is, plus he’ll be home soon. You can man up and be strong for that long, can’t you?”

Toby burped and Simpson rolled his eyes.

“I’m pathetic, aren’t I?” he asked his friend.

“Yes, but you’re in love and your husband is halfway around the world from you, doing something extremely stupid and reckless.” Simpson patted his shoulder. “You have the right to be pathetic, but only once. From now on, you’ll suck it up and hold yourself together, so that when he gets back, you’re aren’t going to need therapy or a hospital.”

He grabbed a hold of Simpson’s hand before he walked off. When Simpson turned to look at him, he tried to smile. Toby wasn’t sure how well it turned out since he couldn’t really feel his face. “Thank you. You’ve been a really good friend to me for all these years.”

“Only giving back to you, Toby. You’ve taken care of me when I needed you as well. Get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning to make sure you’re okay.”

Toby rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in Jensen’s pillow. He flapped his hand in Simpson’s direction to let him know he’d heard him. He listened as Simpson walked down the hall to the stairs. That was the last thing he remembered.

Chapter Thirteen

While on top of Everest, I looked across the valley towards the great peak Makalu and mentally worked out a route of how it could be climbed. It showed me that even though I was standing at the top of the world, it wasn’t the end of everything. I was still looking beyond to other interesting challenges.

—Sir Edmund Hillary

It hadn’t even reached midnight when Jensen headed out of Camp Four, continuing on the summit push. He’d spent his time in the tent, breathing in bottled oxygen and had a restless night, not really liking the feel of the mask on his face. It had been the second night in a row that he hadn’t slept. The weather forecast had called for fairly good weather, but of course, on Everest, no one could plan anything.

Jigger and Cat had already left, but Jensen knew he’d probably catch up to them along the way. Rodney joined him and nodded. Before they got started, he gestured to the darkness above them.

“Two of the Brits and one of their guides already went on as well,” Rodney informed him.

A hint of disappointment hit Jensen. He probably wasn’t going to be the first at the summit that day. Then he shook his head. It didn’t matter who got there first, as long as he made it. All the time away from Toby would be worth it once he put a foot at the top of the world.

“Ready?” Rodney grinned at him before putting his oxygen mask on.

Jensen made sure his regulator was working then nodded. It was time to leave the South Col and drag his exhausted ass upward into the Death Zone, the area above twenty-seven thousand feet. He’d put his two canisters of oxygen in his pack, using one and having one for back up. He’d grab another one at the South Summit.

Two of the sirdars, head Sherpas, for the Brits and for High’s group, had gone out a few hours before the climbers were to leave to blaze a trail and lay the fixed ropes up to the summit. Since they were to be the first teams to try, they needed the ropes set.

By the time Jensen and Rodney had worked their way around some of the slower climbers, the Sherpas headed down to greet them. Jigger and Cat were still ahead of them somewhere in the darkness, but he’d gotten ahead of the Brits.

“What’s it like up there,” Rodney called out.

“Snow is deep, but weather good so far. Ropes are solid,” High’s sirdar told them.

“Thanks.”

They waved as they continued on, probably to help others who might need it as they moved toward the summit. Jensen plodded along, doing his best to keep his mind focused on where he put his feet and his ice pick. At this altitude, it was dangerous to let his thoughts wander from his purpose, which was to climb the freaking mountain.