Shattered Ice: Dangerous Adventures, #1

By Robby Robertson

SHATTERED ICE: Book 1 of the Dangerous Adventures Series

A Dream Mountain Adventure Turns Into A Nightmare

 

Fifteen-year-old Max thought he had it all figured out – just follow in his late father's footsteps and conquer Mount Rainier. The iconic Washington peak with its towering ice cliffs and treacherous crevasses promises the adventure he craves. But neither Max nor his rope team is prepared for the tragedy about to unfold on the mountain.

 

Haunted by his dad's passing, Max has been in a tailspin, quitting soccer and pushing away his loved ones. Memories of his father ignites his passion for climbing, and the Rainier expedition offers a form of healing. As Max forms brotherly bonds with his adult teammates during the grueling ascent, the Summit seems achievable...until the unthinkable happens.

 

A sudden ice fall triggers a horrific accident high on a glacier. In seconds, Max's daring journey turns into a chilling fight for survival as climbers are trapped, injured, or killed. Drawing on lessons of perseverance from his father, Max has to confront if he has what it takes to brave the elements and lead another climber to safety.

 

The first book in the Dangerous Adventure Series, Shattered Ice plunges readers into an extreme survival situation inspired by real events. Author Robby Robertson's firsthand knowledge of Mt Rainier's worst accident imbues this gripping tale of adolescent courage and friendship with gritty authenticity that will keep you on the edge until the final pitch.

 

The human spirit versus nature's danger and fury - who will prevail? Buy Shattered Ice now to experience this inspiring mountain adventure!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dennis Robertson
• Release date: Jul 10, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223261544

Book preview

CHAPTER 1, OPEN SPACE

THEY’D TIED THE game and Coach had his unhappy face. The one where he substitutes someone. Probably me because he kept staring my way.

Ty kicked off for us and our right forward immediately lost the ball. Ty tried to recover it and got tripped, then flattened by one of their fullbacks. The ref raised his whistle as he checked his watch. He dropped the whistle. The ref must have changed his mind. The game had to be almost over. Good.

Ty got up, holding his hand to his face. I could see blood between his fingers. He was my friend. Angry, I pivoted, heading toward the dude that tripped him.

The dude still had the ball. He cut back across the middle, towards me, his entire team moving forward with him, and—no way! I sped up, slide tackling the ball straight through, taking the big dude’s left leg out from under him. He went down and his knee connected with the side of my head. Didn’t matter. Rolling to my feet, I got to the ball first and dribbled in a circle. Keeping it away from the big idiot, making him look stupid. I heard Coach yell something and ignored him. The game would be over in a moment. Who cared what Coach yelled?

The ref blew the game ending whistle. We’d tied our last game of the year, which was okay with me.

I joined the rest of our team on the sideline in time to hear Coach congratulate Ty and several others for a good game.

Coach pushed through several players to stop in front of me. Great steal, Max. He frowned. Guess you didn’t see Ty breaking for open space. If you’d passed deep to the left, maybe we could have won.

I stared at him. What a crappy thing to say. Several of the closest players looked down or turned away.

Like I said, it’s good you’re getting your act together. I’m sure next year will be better. Coach reached out to shake my hand.

The only thing I shook was my head before I turned and walked away.

I saw Mom and her huge yellow umbrella on the far side of the field. I jogged over. Let’s go.

It’s your last game of the season. Don’t you want to hang around with your team for a little while? she asked.

Ty caught up with me, looking worried.

No way. I’m done with this—with soccer.

She grabbed my arm. What?

Ty looked horrified. He told Mom what the coach had said while giving me his dude, you’re acting stupid again face.

Mom wanted to talk about it, but I’d had enough. It’d started raining again and I hurried towards the car. Mom caught up and grabbed my arm, holding tight this time. You’re becoming a loner, just sitting up in your room playing on that old Xbox. You can’t keep quitting on things, Max.

I gave her a dirty look. Dad always said sports were my choice. I tried to pull away.

She wouldn’t let go.

Mom, let’s just leave.

She put a hand to my chest. Hold it, I’m thinking. She stared across the field to where the rest of the team was milling around. Okay, here’s the deal.

Huh?

She stepped closer so our noses were almost touching. Remember last month when you wanted to ask Gramps about taking you mountain climbing? Climbing because you’d turned fourteen?

Yeah, he took Dad up Mt Rainier when he was fourteen. I shrugged. You laughed and said no way. She never understood what was important to me.

Well, I’ve changed my mind. But the deal is you have to train with Gramps. You have to get both of you in good enough shape to climb the Mt Si trail, that’s both up and down, in under four hours. With packs. Then I’ll let you go.

That’s crazy. He’s old. Training him will take forever, or longer. She never made any sense.

That’s the deal.

CHAPTER 2, I'M FINE

(SEVEN MONTHS LATER)

Every one of the climbers in front of us, even the two wearing the expensive Arc’teryx climbing parkas, got real quiet. They peered over the edge, nodded, and backed away.

They’re waiting for someone else to go first, I whispered to Gramps. We peeked over the rim. The bumpy snowfield dropped almost straight down before it flattened out into the little valley where we’d left our packs.

Gramps grabbed my arm. This is steep and icy. Maybe you should wait awhile. He wiggled his shoulders, loosening them up, like he planned on going first himself.

No way. I pulled my arm free, stepped up, and plopped my butt down on the cold snow. My feet dangled over the edge.

Let me be first, Gramps said.

We’ve been practicing all morning. I grinned up at him. Besides, I can’t stand waiting.

Ian, the head guide, heard me. Appears our youngest, Max, has volunteered to be the first to demonstrate an ice axe arrest. He kneeled next to me. Remember to yell ‘falling’ before you begin sliding, eh. Don’t roll over till you’re moving fast. Most important, remember to hold the ice axe in close to your chest.

I stared at my ice axe. The top had a long point on one side and a sharp, horizontal blade for chopping ice on the other. I didn’t care what Ian said; it wasn’t going anywhere near my face.

Ian kept talking about how important safety was, but it was time.

Closing my eyes, I held the ice axe way away from my face, lifted my feet, reached forward with my right hand, and pushed off. I fell almost straight down, landing half on my butt and half on my back. Then I slid and bumped down the hill. Cold snow jammed up my parka. My feet bounced around.

Ahhh. The bottom of the ice axe had banged my shin.

Time to roll. I twisted to the left, onto my belly.

Ahhhhhhh! Something hit me. Knocked my sunglasses off my face.

Letting go of the ice axe, I buried my nose in tight against my shoulder. Spread-eagled, I spun, jerked, and plowed through wet snow on my belly. For what seemed forever.

I slowed, then stopped. I must be at the bottom. Eyes closed, I took a deep breath and felt cold snow and bits of ice jammed up under my parka, everywhere. Some even up my nose. I sneezed.

Oh God! My cheek stung. Stung bad.

Sitting up, I yanked my gloves off. The ice axe must have smashed against my cheek. My sunglasses hung from the strap around my neck, and I needed them. The white snow and blurry, bright sun burned my eyes. But that didn’t come close to the burning in my cheek. I touched it.

It was wet!

Gritting my teeth, I glanced at my fingertips. Not blood.

I took a deep breath. The wet must have been my eyes watering from the sun. What did I do wrong?

Max, are you okay? Gramps yelled from way up at the edge.

All the adults had to be staring at me, wondering if the only kid in the class had just got hurt. I didn’t look up to see. Instead, I mumbled, I’m okay.

Ian slid to a stop next to me. I couldn’t look at him, either.

Bloody hell. Ian kneeled, pulling my hand from my cheek. Thank God. You didn’t injure an eye.

I’m fine.

He studied my cheek.

It doesn’t hurt.

He bent over, scooped up snow, and held it out. Helps the stinging.

It stung worse. He kept watching, so I kept the snow against my cheek.

Gramps slid to a stop next to us. He grabbed my shoulder. Look at me.

I dropped my hand, looked up. Gramps brushed snow off my cheek. Not too bad. You’re going to end up with a black eye. It’ll go nicely with your black hair, right?

I blew it! What did the two lean and mean guys in the fancy parkas think now? They’d been the best in our climbing class, done everything right all morning. They wore the best boots, Gore-Tex bib pants that matched their parkas, and designer sunglasses. They’d been in the back. Maybe they hadn’t seen me.

Ian walked over to my ice axe and picked it up. The snow crunched with each slow step as he walked back and handed it to me. I wanted to heave it at him. Instead, I stuck it in the snow by my side.

Ian shook his head. Climbing is dangerous. That’s why you have to show you’ve learned to do the ice axe self-arrest properly before we let you climb. It’s especially important you remember to yell ‘falling,’ so the other climbers on your rope team have time to prepare.

I know. He didn’t have to lecture me like I was a dummy. I’d grown up on Dad’s and Gramps’s climbing stories.

Ready to have another go at it?

He wouldn’t let me climb Mount Rainier tomorrow if I didn’t. I wiped the snow off my fingers and touched my cheek. It still stung, but I couldn’t feel a cut. I tried to sound casual. Sure, why not?

Can he wait a moment, get his breath back? Gramps asked.

Of course. He can wait until after lunch.

Gramps stood, leaned over me. Want to wait?

I stared at him. Was he crazy? Waiting was the dumbest—

Come on, then. Let’s go get you a drink of water. Gramps swung around and slogged through the wet summer snow to where we’d left our packs.

I wanted to yell no way. That I wanted to try now. By the time I calmed, finished a deep breath, it was too late. Ian was on his way back to the top of the ridge and Gramps was halfway to our packs.

I still should have said something. Waiting never helps.

Ian pulled a radio out of his waist pack and talked into it as he climbed. Why did I have to screw up all the time?

Hey, Max, want one of my Snickers bars to go with the water? Gramps shouted from over by the packs.

No way. I hated Snickers bars. Because of the peanuts.

I grabbed an energy bar. Gramps and I sat on top of our packs in the wet snow with our backs to where Ian and the rest of the class were doing their ice axe arrests. From the happy yells, they were doing great. Not like me. I’d bragged to Ty about coming up here, doing this. If I failed, how would I tell him?

Gramps kept talking, not realizing I was ignoring him. He was just trying to be nice. He’d only come because I couldn’t come by myself.

Gramps, I’m sorry. I scooted around so I faced him.

Hey, everyone has trouble the first time. You’ll do fine after lunch.

But what if I didn’t?

Dad promised we could climb Mount Rainier. I had to do this. Would just need to concentrate harder, get focused.

I felt something gooey in my hand. Pieces of crumbled energy bar peeked out from between my fingers.

Crap. I heaved the mess far away, licked off the melted chocolate stuck to my fingers, and glanced at Gramps, hoping he hadn’t seen.

He was busy pulling his daypack around and looking inside. From the frown on his face, he wouldn’t have noticed if Mount Rainier had erupted. Was he that worried about me doing the ice axe arrest?

He sat and cleared his throat. Max, you know, your bump from the ice axe just proved how dangerous climbing can be.

I’m not that hurt. I touched my cheek. I’d be okay if I’d done it right.

You may be all right this time, but that’s not always true with climbing on snow and ice. This isn’t the same as climbing the pinnacle at the REI store in Seattle. You know, where you have the safety line on and can’t get injured. Or the training hikes we’ve been doing on Mount Si.

Gramps paused and gave me his stern judge face. I know I took your father when he was fourteen, but Mount Rainier is the hardest climb in the lower forty-eight states.

He leaned forward. This is a big mountain, with big mountain weather. Sometimes the weather takes over, and then it doesn’t matter how skillful you are. And there are glaciers, crevasses, ice cliffs, and seracs to make it more dangerous.

I know, Gramps, I know, I jumped up and hurried down the trail to where the Paradise lodge was visible. It looked warm down at the lodge, below the snow line. I could even make out wildflowers. The air was so clear you could tell the exact spot where the red Indian paintbrushes ended and the purple fireweeds started, even from way up here.

How far is it to the lodge? I asked over my shoulder.

Not exactly sure, but one of the guides said we’re at the seven-thousand-foot level. So the lodge must be at least fifteen hundred feet below us.

Seven thousand feet. That meant we were halfway to the top of Mount Rainier. I wasn’t having any problem breathing. Climbing the rest couldn’t be that hard. I went back to ask Gramps to tell me again about the mountains he and Dad had climbed.

CHAPTER 3, SECOND CHANCE

THE REST OF the class finally came down for lunch. Gramps and I had brought sandwiches, chips, and apples from home. I wasn’t hungry, but I ate everything.

After lunch, we strapped our spiky crampons to the bottoms of our boots. Ian said they stopped you from sliding on ice. He had us practice taking them off and strapping them on several more times. Boring.

Then the guides divided the group up into four different rope teams and tied heavy ropes around our waists from person-to-person so we were roped twenty feet apart.

We started off walking around in the snow. It turned out to be a lot harder than it looked. You had to keep the rope almost tight, just barely dragging on the snow between you and the guy in front of you. And he would keep changing speed, going slower and then faster, trying to keep the rope dragging just right from the guy in front of him. Being on a team was never easy.

We finally untied from the ropes and stopped for another water and snack break. I worked