The South Col

The South Col

 

Cold and icy winds blowing from Nepal to Tibet threatened all living things on the sharp-edged ridge 

To the point of complete extinction of living organisms between Mt. Everest and Lhotse.

The winds reminded me of clashing metal over the snow and ice-covered rocks.

The winds hammered, bit and scratched my body and soul; a monster’s hammer, power, claw and teeth.

I climbed for more than 12 hours from the third camp to South Col, the fourth and final camp site that almost reached the Heavens 

Two veteran Sherpas pitched a couple of tents for my shelter and theirs, the mission nearly impossible.

But they did pitch the tents on the narrow ledges, ready to be blown out by the powerful gust of the wind.

They were peaceful, gentle and kind people, born and raised in the mountain village 6500 meters above sea level. I was impressed by their quietness and their perseverance under such harsh conditions.

They staked a piece of cloth as a flag outside the tent, the Buddhist Scriptures protecting our lives.

However, inside the tent, I could not take rest, and I could not eat or drink. My lips were swollen like a balloon.

My consciousness in thin air was dim, fading away. I tried to remember the date I left the family and the third camp. I tried to remember all the flags containing the Buddhist scriptures over the bridges and mountain paths.

My frozen blankets covered my frozen soul and body.

 No difference between a frozen fish and a frozen man.

No way of knowing of life and death in the South Col.

Mt. Everest means a long journey over the treacherous frozen mountain top against the winds of destruction.

I should be frozen first, and hopefully be awakened to life one second away from death, to the final destination, Everest.

 

----Yearn Hong Choi