I'm not CRAZY!
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About this ebook
This is a true accounting of one of my climbing adventure in the Colorado Rocky Mountains.
Climbing mountains in the winter can be hard enough, but when a blizzard strikes, all Hell breaks loose and the real terror begins.
5k word, short story
Christopher David Petersen
Christopher David Petersen (1963 - 20??). Born and raised in Connecticut. As a child, I was always daring and reckless. Never one to let common sense stand in the way of a great adventure, my bold feats of stupidity were legendary... Huckleberry Finn would have been proud."Surprisingly", that same spirit carried over into adulthood, as I sought out entertainment that included: scuba diving; ski Mountaineering; mountain biking; Rock, Ice and Mountain climbing; flying planes; golf, motorcycles, the stock market and of course, experimentation with various alcoholic refreshments.Later in life, writing became an extension of my deep desire to experience "new and exciting worlds". I have written several books, but none have been published through any formal channels... I've heard the process is long, painful and laborious, the thought of which sickens me. My foray into e-publishing came after a friend suggested my works could fetch dollars instead of dust inside my sock drawer... a righteous observation. My recent publications are the result of this advice. Further adventure/suspense novels are soon to be released.An engineer by trade, I have worked all over the U.S. and usually write in my spare time... that is when I'm not enjoying a bottle of Scotch and a quality cigar. I am a naturally long-winded individual, so writing is what happens when I can't get anyone to listen to me anymore...I love all kinds of genres but gravitate more towards suspense. There is nothing like the build up to a great climax... What a rush!
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I'm not CRAZY! - Christopher David Petersen
I’m not crazy!
Christopher David Petersen
Copyright 2011 Christopher David Petersen
Smashwords Edition
Climbing on Longs Peak – The Diamond, Estes Park CO (I’m the dark spot – 1500 ft above the valley)
See that photo above… that’s just before all Hell broke loose while climbing on Longs Peak in Estes Park, Colorado. Now, I hate to be one for over-drama, but when I say all Hell broke loose, I’m talking fire and brimstone kinda Hell.
Some quick background first: At the point in the photo that my friend Isaac had taken the picture, we had been climbing for nearly twelve hours and were now roughly 1500 feet above the valley floor. We had started up a steep snow face well before dawn and after day break, the skies looked clear and the winds were light. It was really a beautiful day.
By mid-morning, that had all changed. The skies clouded over and with it, brought winds, plummeting temperatures and light snow.
No biggie, right?
You say…
For most mountaineers, a few flurries normally wouldn’t increase the pucker factor. I won’t go into the definition of pucker factor
but trust me, a high pucker factor really is not good. As it was, we were looking at a low PF, so I really wasn’t too worried, but I did keep a watchful eye on the deteriorating conditions.
Shortly after that photo, all Hell broke loose. The skies became angry and violent. The temperatures hovered around zero and the light snow opened up into a full blown blizzard. As the snows accumulated in the upper reaches of the mountain, huge pockets of that light fluffy white stuff would break loose and race down the cliff in the form of spindrift avalanches.
Aside from the obvious (death), spindrift avalanches really suck because all too frequently, they pour off the upper face above you and down the back of your neck. Has anyone every dropped an ice cube down your back? Well, that would be a welcome relief to a pile of snow. Fortunately, due to my superior intellect, I was able to recognize the repetitive event after only being caught in them five times. Before the sixth dowsing of snow, I pulled my hood over my head. I know, I know… pure genius.
Isaac’s and my plan for the climb was simple. We had planned to traverse the cliff a hundred feet more (from that point in the photo), then climb the upper rock face of the Diamond
for fifty feet or so, then climb onto a steep snow slope above. Once we reached that snow slope, it would be easy (but dangerous) climbing to the summit.
No problemo’ right? Or so we thought.
I have to admit. By the time we were making that traverse to the Diamond
, I was tired. I hadn’t worked on my conditioning as well as I should have prior to the climb and the higher elevations were really wearing me out. To make matters worse, I didn’t bring enough food or water, so my energy reserves were pretty low.
To my relief, Isaac led the traverse while I hung back and paid out the rope. It felt good to hang off the cliff by a bunch of tiny slings instead of making that dangerous traverse, out on the sharp end of the rope as it’s called in climbing.
I hung under a large block that sheltered me from the spindrift avalanches above, while I watched Isaac pick his way across the cliff. Little by little, he alternated his hands and feet as he moved sideways, relying on the hand and footholds to hold him to the steep cliff.
Hanging there in the cold, the winds howled. I could feel the energy draining from my body by the minute. I shivered uncontrollably now and shook out each hand to knock
some warmth back into them. Time seemed to move so slowly as I watched Isaac cross that traverse.
Every so often, Isaac placed a piece of climbing gear into the rocks and threaded the rope through it. If he fell, he’d only drop the length past the climbing gear instead 1500 feet below.
Halfway across the traverse, Isaac stopped. He was now at a point called the Notch Couloir. The Notch Couloir was a wide break in the cliff that ran nearly to the top of the mountain. It was far less steep and if viewing it from a distance, it could even be considered a mini-valley carved at the top of the cliff.
I watched Isaac stand like a statue, far out in front of me. He didn’t move. He didn’t look up. He didn’t look around. He just stared straight ahead.
Come on, Sally. Grow some balls and move. I’m freakin’ freezen’ here,
I remember thinking to myself as I watched him stand idly by.
Just then, the world went white before me. An enormous spindrift avalanche careened off the cliff face above me and completely blocked my view of Isaac.
Holy Mackeral,
I yelled out… only I didn’t say mackerel. No sir, that was a lot of snow, enough to fill up a couple of very large houses.
I felt the rope go taut and pulled hard to take up the slack. I was scared. I could feel that sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach as I envisioned Isaac being swept over the cliff by the avalanche.
A moment later, as the last of the snowy dust floated on by, I could see him. There was Isaac: still standing where I saw him last. The rope had only gone taut due to the weight of the snow as it rushed over it. Isaac had not been swept away.
Dude, you see that?
I yelled out to Isaac, but he never heard me.
I saw Isaac look up toward the Notch Couloir, then shuffle quickly across. Facing the mountain, he moved his right foot to his right, then moved his left foot over to match it. Over and over, Isaac repeated