Epic Hikes of the World ( PDFDrive )

the mountain, falling into a steady robotic trudge. All was quiet save for the guides,
who showed off by belting out pop songs. I wished I had the breath to sing; I
wished I could escape the throbbing monotony inside my own head. With nothing
to focus on but the heels in front and the darkness everywhere else, time was
stretching out. And as the minutes dragged, so the ground steepened, the cold bit
harder, the nausea yanked and the air thinned. After what seemed like an age, I
looked at my watch. I’d only been going for an hour. There were still five or six to
go.
It was at this point I gave myself a stern talking to. I either surrendered to the
mountain – gave in, got beat. Or I surrendered to the challenge – stopped fighting
and fretting, and simply got on with it; one foot in front of the other. Thus I shuffled
on, moving slowly upwards. Eventually the minutes ticked by; the hours. The sky
seeped from inky black to hazy purple to dawning pink. And then, finally, there it
was, up ahead: the sign confirming our arrival on the roof of Africa.
The sun burst through the pillowy cloud below. I felt its creeping warmth. I felt
relief. And I felt the beginnings of euphoria tugging at the sleeve of my fatigue. I
wasn’t quite ready for it – I needed to get down this mountain first. But I had an
inkling of just how good this moment was going to feel. SB