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The moon glared above, exposed solid ice beneath headlamp-glow. Winds whipped across the wall, freezing warm breath-vapor onto my stinging-face. Chinks of my axe echoed against the moraine, crampons etched my signature behind. Slowly I moved up into the pitch-void, toward the twinkling stars. Tethered to my kindred-spirits, together we found truth on the summit-push.
0
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
Truth on a 35-Degree Ice Wall
The moon glared above, exposed solid ice beneath headlamp-glow. Winds whipped across the wall, freezing warm breath-vapor onto my stinging-face. Chinks of my axe echoed against the moraine, crampons etched my signature behind. Slowly I moved up into the pitch-void, toward the twinkling stars. Tethered to my kindred-spirits, together we found truth on the summit-push.
jonny-angel
Written by
American
Dec 20, 2013
Dec 20, 2013 at 5:51 AM UTC
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