Personal Narrative : ' The Climb '

After three hours of of hiking what felt like a vertical slope, the top of Mount Haystack was right in front of me. I knew that I could keep pushing through because I had suffered so much worse before. I wasn’t about to let this mere incline prevent me from reaching the top. I powered through the aching muscles and throbbing knees, while ignoring the sharp radiating pain in my calves. After what felt like forever, I was standing 5260 ft above the sea and taking in a spectacular view. When I glanced to my left, I realized I wasn’t quite at the top, I still had two more peaks to go before I’d reach the top of Lafayette. So after a few minutes of rest I got started on the rest of the hike.

As I ran, I felt my foot come down on top of a moss filled rock, and I knew I was in trouble. The slick moss ripped away from the slab of granite and it sent me flying. I knew the fall would be inevitable, and took the it as best I could and prayed for some luck. Branches ripped apart my face, snapping from the contact. Blood flicked up into my eyes. My shoulder made contact with the trunk of a tree as the rest of my body dug into the mud. My legs flipped up over me, crashing into piece of granite bulging out of the ground, pain traveled its way up my leg.

So I did it like 20 more times before finally resting up on the shore. As time passed by, it felt as if we spent the whole day swimming and jumping off a helicopter skydiving. Then the unexpected happen, my best friends Ivan and Nathan decided they wanted to get a go at the bridge. In my head, I knew this was not a good idea. The bridge was skyscraping, towering, mighty, I can’t even think of words to describe it. It was unmatchable and yet they want to jump off it. I tried to convince them not to, worrying that something might go wrong if they did. Quite frankly they didn’t care what I had to say and offered me to jump with them. I was already on the bridge with them and they were on the outside of the rails ready to jump. While all my friends are behind me they wanted to see all three of us jump at the same time. I was scared shitless. But being me I caved in and vaulted right over the rail and stood next to 2 of my best friends as we were about to jump a bridge. I’ve never been more scared in my life, looking down at my feet it looked like the people below me were ants. We stood there for a good 5 minutes contemplating on whether we should jump or not. The longer we sat there the worst it became, we were all trembling with fear. Both Ivan and Nathan had fear in their eyes like I’ve never seen before. I bet they were just as scared as I was. The sun was gleaming at all 3 of us as we stood there in shock and awe. But we had to man up and jump, so we did exactly that. The water was fragile, universe-blue-colour, making it appear like nature’s amphitheatre. At that very moment all 3 of us jumped, the air felt ice cold, it felt as if everything was statue still, like time froze on us. It was peaceful and comfortable, I have never experienced such a unique feeling. As we came racing down we smacked the water and plunged right for the surface gasping for air. It was a feeling that you can’t shake

At that time, I felt like a rookie sky diver preparing for his first plunge. The cabin door opens to reveal the extreme distance of his fall, which leads to either sheer excitement or eventual death. The naivete that sheltered his fear disappears at the sudden reality of the moment. By then, of course, it is much too late to turn back. The very thought that this was his idea seems absurd to him, and he feels like the only person on the face of the planet. And so he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and

Adrenaline pulsed through my veins like a race car; my knees started to buckle beneath me. My palms and face were sweat soaked with anticipation. My friend encouragingly nudged me forward. Fear trickled down my spine, sending me off the cliff of sanity.

In order to continue climbing Everest, many aspects of climbing need to be improved before more people endanger their lives to try and reach the roof of the world. The guides have some areas that need the most reform. During the ascension of Everest the guides made a plethora mistakes that seemed insignificant but only aided in disaster. The guides first mistake is allowing “any bloody idiot [with enough determination] up” Everest (Krakauer 153). By allowing “any bloody idiot” with no climbing experience to try and climb the most challenging mountain in the world, the guides are almost inviting trouble. Having inexperienced climbers decreases the trust a climbing team has in one another, causing an individual approach to climbing the mountain and more reliance on the guides. While this approach appears fine, this fault is seen in addition to another in Scott Fischer’s expedition Mountain Madness. Due to the carefree manner in which the expedition was run, “clients [moved] up and down the mountain independently during the acclimation period, [Fischer] had to make a number of hurried, unplanned excursions between Base Camp and the upper camps when several clients experienced problems and needed to be escorted down,” (154). Two problems present in the Mountain Madness expedition were seen before the summit push: the allowance of inexperienced climbers and an unplanned climbing regime. A third problem that aided disaster was the difference in opinion in regards to the responsibilities of a guide on Everest. One guide “went down alone many hours ahead of the clients” and went “without supplemental oxygen” (318). These three major issues: allowing anyone up the mountain, not having a plan to climb Everest and differences in opinion. All contributed to the disaster on Everest in

In Matthew Hedger’s article “Yosemite National Park Day Hikes: Vernal Falls Death March”, he claims that you don’t always know what you’re getting into and find that things are harder than they seem. Hedger supports his claim with a story of his hike up Vernal Falls. His purpose is to inform his readers that you can always get through difficult things and that they’re stronger than they think. The intended audience is anyone who enjoys a good story and wants to know about hiking.

I have this fear that causes my body to shake. When I think about it, my skin becomes pale and cold. It’s death speeding through my mind. Once I have seen these monstrous roller coasters, the only thing in my mind was fear. Knowing that I’m afraid to go on these rides, I didn’t want to look like a fool in front of my friends. My mind is thinking of deadly thoughts. My palms were sweaty and I was twitching like a fish. I was petrified of heights.

We were all encouraged to choke down as much food as possible. Any kind of energy was essential. A melancholy atmosphere hung heavy as the journey progressed. Minutes walking slowly progressed into hours, the sky seemed to darken steadily. All of us were oblivious to the danger shrouded by the dim evening. Only moments after scaling a rather steep ledge did nature dice to turn sour. A deafening rumble made each climber perk up. Snow began to descend at an alarming rate. Thunder began to mic the steady beating of a drum, causing more concern among the ranks of climbers. The powdery snow became more of a risk than ever, climbing under pressure and leaving nothing to stand on. Third base was more than three hours away. Three hours wasn't possible at the rate. Snowfall this bad could be detrimental to the climb’s success. Snow obscured vision and numbed faces. Shouts and orders deemed lost in the screaming wind; people’s figure became shapeless blurs frantically shifting, hoping if they struggled against the wind hard enough, they might find someone. Of course, this was to no avail. Not a single person doubted their demise would come at this point: the stakes were high and no-one could play too well against Mother Nature. The snow crept up to knee-level, making it harder and harder to travel. Death and I were face-to-face. To some, they couldn't bare the idea of dying up here; they had families and friends, children who need parents and

“For the most part I attributed my growing unease to the fact that I’d never climbed as a member of such a large group- a group of complete strangers, no less. “ (37)

Focus. Take a deep breath. Don’t look at everyone around you. Keep your head down. Look at the blue mat on the floor, creasing in wherever you put your feet. Glance at the clock, there are 4 minutes remaining. Put on your jacket, before you start shivering. Remain sitting in the chair. In just 3 and ½ minutes you will climb. When that happens remember to breath and stay focused. Don’t glance at the audience around you, and especially don’t pay attention to the slight pain of your shoes pinching your toes. When the timer hits 2 and ½ minutes start putting on your shoes. They are made of rubber and red felt. Right, then left. The timer has 10 seconds left. Stand up, take off your jacket, and start walking backwards towards the climb. Place your

“Why do you climb?” Four words; four syllables; one question that I’ve heard a countless number of times; one question that I never knew how to answer. (Antithesis) Climbing is a sport that is performed in most corners of the world; it’s objective is to develop and carry out a method of ascending a rock face, be it with tools, by hand, with protection, or without. For most people, it is a game to be played for the hell of it; for the majority, it is a social environment that connects people of all ethnicities and ages; for some, it’s a direct connection to the beauty of the outdoors; for few, it’s a way of acquainting oneself with fear; for a minority, it is a masochistic drive; and for me, it is all of the above. Although all of these general reasons motivate climbers in their everyday ambitions, the source of their passion is as obscure as the virgin stone itself. From what I’ve learned, there are endless ways to answer this age old question, but three of them stood out the most: to find purpose, to find community, and to find what is elusive.

I tried to smile back but just the thought of going even a few inches off the ground terrified me. A few weeks ago our history teacher Mr Brown, an old and boring professor had informed us about a field trip that was supposed to help enhance our understanding of the olden times. I was pretty excited for the most part as history was my favourite subject but a week later when I was told it was to camp out in the mountains, I decided against it. But soon enough my friends were begging me to go and I mean the thought of it a few weeks ago seemed adventurous, cool and fun. Now, I watched in horror as the bus approached the starting point of descending up the mountain. I shut my eyes tightly as I squeezed James hand. I could hear the laughter of my friends, Marissa, David, Sheila, Finn and Mike watching the stupidity of my fear. After a while, I finally opened my eyes and looked out the window despite the level we were at and my heart thumping at the thought of it I looked at the breathtaking view of the city below. The view looked like something out of a story book, the city below us was lusciously green and the vibrance of the bodies of water seemed to dazzle from afar, I could see the long chain of cars

The path leading up the mountain looked like a never ending hallway. With our hiking shoes and backpacks, we looked like explorers ready to face our

I started feeling confident as I waited in line. Finally the moment arrived where I took my seat on the coaster. At this point my anxiety and fear came rushing back all at once and my blood even seemed to boil. I realized though if I didn’t do this now I probably never would. So I pulled the bar over my stomach and tried not to puke.