Escape to Life

Escape to Life

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The sun crept over the massive snow-capped massifs into the enormous mountain-ringed horizon, turning the sky into a warm shade of tangerine. Evening descended and so did darkness. Silence followed the swift fall of murkiness.

 It’d been three days since the group of mountaineers had started climbing from the Everest Base Camp. The peaks looked like eerie silhouettes in the light of the quarter-moon. Hazel kept climbing in the light of the headlamp fixed on her helmet. “Take care on the steep face,” Chris, Hazel’s fiancée, reflected. Suddenly, small blocks of hard ice broke off high above and thundered by, sweeping away everything in their wake. Hazel shivered, chilled to the bones. The mountaineers finally reached at the final camp before Everest summit after climbing a series of ledges leading to an immense snowfield where their tents had been pitched. The biting cold coupled with the lack of oxygen in the air made them realise the tough challenge ahead of them.

The climbers had already exposed their bodies gradually to higher and higher altitudes. So they slept and recuperated at that altitude. Hearing the sound of a voice Hazel crawled out of her sleeping bag. Shortly afterwards, Khumbu Sherpa rushed into the tent. “Mem saab,” he babbled, “It’s time to set out for the peak.” Hazel got ready to climb the world’s highest peak in a hurry. She was aware that it was the most challenging stretch of the climb. She came out of her tent beneath a twilight sky. The clear sky was dotted with a galaxy of stars. 

“Are you carrying some extra oxygen, Hazel?” Chris asked. “Nope!” Hazel grimaced, “I’m carrying two oxygen cylinders weighing about ten kilograms each.” Hazel gazed at the sky. The weather looked good and if everything fell into place, she should be setting her feet on Everest by the next morning.  

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She raised her eyes and gaped at the ice walls that lay ahead. The huge vertical columns, rocky cliffs upon cliffs looked like night monsters. Hazel climbed sleepily along the high altitude. The biting cold coupled with the lack of oxygen in the air made her realise the tough challenge ahead of them. Hazel’s heart thumped, she could barely feel her legs and the icy slope in front was endless.

Time passed surprisingly quickly. It was late evening and a soft drizzle gave the murky surroundings a hazy tinge. The climbers came across a narrow passage. To avoid respiratory failure Hazel kept her limbs constantly active. By doing that Hazel had to consume the reserve oxygen without making any progress towards the summit. She looked at her wrist. The altimeter reading indicated low atmospheric pressure. The passage was so narrow that she had to wriggle her way out of it. That was very thrilling.

Hazel climbed and crawled throughout the night and reached the cliff from where the peak became distinctly visible. The peak was shrouded in smoky blue hues. It was standing like silent witness to the beauty. Large wads of grey clouds were rolling off into the horizon. The first light made ripples of gold everywhere. The rays of light went through a myriad of colour tones within just a few seconds. Endless snowfields all around, each a different shade of white, melted seamlessly into the grey skies. “What majesty!” Hazel exclaimed. The scenic beauty left the climbers mesmerised at the grandeur of nature.

Hazel gazed at the last stretch of the climb that looked like almost a knife-edge ridge- a mixture of rock and ice, and was dangerously balanced on each other.

After a couple of hours into the climb through the scenic Himalayan wilderness, Hazel and Krish reached the top of the peak. The panoramic view from the top left them speechless. The 

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many branches of the Everest range spread out like a giant coliseum with the mighty Lhotse in the distance.

 After a few congratulatory hugs and photo ops, the climbers started descending and just below the mountaintop, they climbed down a steep vertical crevasse. The weather improved a little, and the mountaineers carried on the steep descent. The ice appeared much steeper with the snow quality often changing. Since it was deep and soft, breaking the trail exhausted Hazel. There the climbers encountered hard ice on quite a few stretches.

 Suddenly, the weather deteriorated. A severe snowstorm characterised by cold temperatures and heavy drifting of snow hit the area. Dust and ice particles rose in plumes, the mountain floor became choked with new snow. It whitened the surroundings. Blowing snow made for the poor visibility. Hazel couldn’t even see Chris due to the blizzard. 

A tremor shook the icy mountains. An enormous chunk of ice broke off and tumbled down the mountain. But it didn’t collapse on top of Hazel and changed direction abruptly.

And then it happened. For a moment her concentration strayed and Hazel slipped from an ice wall. Though she tried to arrest her body by inserting the ice axe on the wall, it didn’t help because of the soft snow and she fell at least fifty metres below. She stayed flat on the hard ice unable to move her limbs.

She became unconscious. She only waited for death.

 Slowly Hazel returned to consciousness amid the absolute solitude. She failed to find Chris or her guide Sherpa. She never thought that she would die. Rather, she believed that she was dead.

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Tears ran down her cheeks. She needed to descend without delay. A little oxygen was left. The temperature varied between minus twenty five and minus thirty degrees Celsius. The air pressure decreased rapidly. The weather deteriorated even further. All sides turned white. The strong and chilly winds made Hazel feel much colder. There was no sign it would come to ebb away. The body was outside Hazel’s control, and her head started spinning. The deep snow and several hours of steep climb had taken a heavy toll on her body. Extreme fatigue enveloped her. Hazel tried to lift up her body but failed due to do so. “Ouch!” she cried out, feeling a sharp pain in her foot. Her gaze shifted to nothing in particular. Darkness fell and stars shone brightly in the clear sky. Hazel lay down on the hard ice and closed her eyes. 

Vague memories of previous mountain climbing expeditions assumed patterns and tried to engulf Hazel’s consciousness. She recollected her narrow escape at Lhotse when an avalanche struck. Nineteen sherpas were buried beneath the ice. 

She failed to sense if her eyes were open or closed. She felt nothing, not even pain. Moving specks of light flashed before her eyes. They rippled and danced, faded and reappeared again. She felt dizzy and was about to lose consciousness.

Only a faint sound reached her ears, “Wake up.....wake up! A hand rubbed her back to keep her warm. Through the mist Hazel could just make out a vague figure. It was her long-lost lover. With great difficulty she got up. The sun came out. Everything looked cheerful.

                                                                   The end