jungles of Myanmar

The wind slams into Maine, and that i urgently grip my ice axes to stay from being ripped off the mountain
face. I push my head against the snow, calm myself, and appearance down. below my crampons could be a five,000-foot
drop. It’s like wanting down from the open door of associate degree plane. i'm roped to my 2 companions, with
nothing attaching North American nation to the mountain. A fall here would send all 3 people plummeting to our death.



Photographs by Cory semanticist once the wind subsides, I pound associate degree Al
stake into the snow and clip the rope to that. It wouldn’t hold if I were to fall however provides Maine
enough psychological comfort to continue. I concentrate, methodically swinging my ice tools
and kicking my crampons. At a rock bulwark I place associate degree anchor and belay my partners, Cory
Richards and Renan Ozturk, across the gap. “Nice lead, dude!” Cory shouts on top of the roar
of the wind once he arrives. He climbs onward, aslope left, finding out a passage up through
the granite and snow. once Renan reaches Maine, there's no area on my shelf, therefore he traverses
out to his own perch. Cory fastidiously tiptoes the teeth of his crampons on a skinny shelf on top of
us and disappears from sight. Renan and that i wait, stooping against the wind.
We stomp our feet and painfully slap our gloved  hands. we have a tendency to square measure too way apart to speak. We just
stand there, along however alone, on the aspect of the snow-plastered drop over 3 miles
in the sky. once a 0.5 hour we start to freeze. once associate degree hour we are able to now not feel our fingers or toes. “I can’t take it any longer,” Renan yells through his frozen beard. “My feet square measure gone. I have to begin moving.”
We don’t apprehend what Cory is doing on top of North American nation, however we’re therefore cold it doesn’t matter. Renan starts

climbing, then I follow. We’re all still roped along, therefore it’s crucial that none people fall. The
rope is meant to be secured to the mountain to catch a fall, however mortal predicaments like this
happen usually in climb. once there aren't any sensible anchors, your partners become your
anchors, physically and showing emotion. you want to trust your life to their judgment and skill, and
they entrust their lives to yours. this is often the code of the mountains.
Renan and that i halt in an exceedingly little rock recess high the north face of the mountain. Through
blowing spray we are able to see Cory traversing another expanse of snow. it's too dangerous for
Renan and Maine to stay moving. Again, we have a tendency to should wait. we have a tendency to huddle shut, however we’re still phase change.
The wind swirls around our bodies, howling and biting at North American nation like invisible hyenas. “My feet square measure turnaround cold,” Renan says. What he means that is that they’re near hurt.

I wonder, for a minimum of the tenth time on this expedition, whether or not this is often the tip of our quest
to climb the best peak in Myanmar—a journey that has pushed North American nation to our physical and emotional
limits. way below North American nation on the mountain, our alternative team members square measure actuation for North American nation in spirit.
Our base camp manager, Taylor Rees, is at the foot of the mountain. The previous day we have a tendency to left
Hilaree O’Neill and Emily Harrington at camp three, a tent nested on a snowy ridgeline, where our
weary team had a bitter argument over UN agency would compete the summit.