The clock starts to tick

May 11 pre dawn start with a wash of stars in the sky and a precession of head torches already snaking up through the ice fall. It’s a big day to camp 2. The whole team aid in our preparation as we shoulder our packs, light the juniper branches at our puja alter, circle the altar clockwise and head through the smoke into the darkness towards the ice fall. As we do so I can’t help thinking how cool it would be if Don McLean was standing there serenading our departure with Vincent. Walking into the guy ropes of another camps tent snaps me back to the task at hand. It’s not long before we become links in the chain of lights moving slowly upwards. In the cold of the night the ice releases a crisp sharp crunch as our crampon points bite down to gain traction. By now the ear is trained, you can hear the difference between the sound of a deep thick, secure thud versus the more lively echo of ice that is thinner and hollow beneath the surface. Best not to wonder how big that hollow is, although as the season progresses there does seem to be a few more lively echos. Ha, got to love those mind games! Breathing and body temperature increases the higher we get while the arrival of dawn light gives the ice an alabaster appearance. Onward and upward, the drive for progress is relentless before the sun hits the ice and begins the thawing process. Eventually we enter the Cwm proper, drink cold water from our bottles at camp 1 and squint ahead across the rolling ice and widening crevasses that deny us a straight path to camp 2. But right now our zig zag path is far from my thoughts........ I’m just so excited to be here. The rise and fall of the Cwm

surface finally surrenders the first views of camp 2 tents. After what seems like hours ( because it is!) we arrive tired, thirsty but most of all satisfied. Mmmm that seemed a little harder and longer than before. Fluid, food and rest in that order. Life is good. Tick, tock, tick.