Story

Solitude. At the base of the hogsback a lone climber evaluated his descent.  As the day passed I watched the clouds ebb and flow along the mountain just as the tide washes along a shoreline.  The thick cover of white did not wash me out to sea, but instead masked its own danger.  One misstep into the fog and the day could quickly turn into a nightmare.  With hot volcanic vents emitting steamed gases on the right and a steep descent to the Devil’s Kitchen veiled from sight on the left the setting was otherworldly.  Quickly checking that everything was tightly lashed to my pack I was ready.  Downward I plunged, as I skimmed along the top of the powder, glissading at its best with my ice axe at the ready.