Against the Wind

by CRAFTY KEN   Jun 23, 2019


Against the Wind

It was our third attempt to climb what some call; the mountain of death, at our base camp it was cold and damp, the frigid air took away our breath. The mountain was indeed a beautiful sight, seeing the early sunrise upon it’s peak, the wind blowing off the snow, created a colorful rainbow, a real morning delight.

While the mules took us to our climb site, I thought, what drives us to desire to conquer this scary white lady, as called by the superticious natives. Many souls sleep upon her steep slopes, her mighty breath, the wind, never ceases, one of the big causes of death, and, no hope. I know that my fiancee, and, me could earn much Fame, fortune, in the Record Books would be our names.

My big concern is for Matilda, an Assie Lass, with much vinegar, and, sassafras, no lemon, just gin, when we wrestle, I don’t always win!
If I fall, would she be able to save me from an icy grave, and, at what cost, I visulize the Newspaper Headlines, mountain claims two more, for two lovers, such a great loss.

We easily scaled the first solid ice wall side, set up our tent at the base of our next climb, Ma, as I called her was upbeat, it didn’t take a long before the wind sent our tent for a nice ride, everything spilled out, even the sheets inside. We spent hours securing the tent under a protected ridge, even when inside, it was colder than our fridge,
Day two, the wind was still, with our snow shoes, we slowly scaled the hill,

The Weather Report gave us a big thrill, a high pressure mass was stalled, and, for two days the wind was not to blow, we put on our breathing apparatus, and, made it to the peak of the final hill, stuck in a tiny flag, screamed out loud: Halelujah! We embraced, kissed; she said; I feel so young, would love some Chinese food, like, Egg foo young, and, rice wine would be fine.

I pulled out my flask, filled with the finest champayne wine, my, did we have a great time.

We decided to have our decent the next morning, Ma had the lead, I paused to adjust my pack on my arm, in a heartbeat Ma was gone. I followed her steps, until I saw the crevasse, the deep black hole in the snow, how far down she was, I did not know. I cried out; my God, please don’t take my love from me. I then heard a low moan, I shouted down the hole, Ma, I’m here, I will bring you home.

It was a struggle pulling her out, a big women, very hard bout, this delay took our safe decent in doubt. I had sent a “Mayday” after she fell, when we arrived at the helicopter landing site, the wind had returned, my tongue I had to bite.

At the ledge, the pilot radioed; I can’t land, wind too strong, you guys will have to climb the lowered ladder, that became a huge matter, Ma was too weak to climb the ladder. She said, dear, you go, then lower a rope for me. I had no choice, but, to listen to her voice.

The chopper was violently swinging left, and, right, seeing the face of my lady, being hauled up was, a heartwrenching sight. When we landed at the base of the hard conquered mountain, camera crews swarmed, the whole town was there, the Natives decalred us, Gods. I said to them; the good Lord has written; If you flirt with death, you will die, count us guilty, I believe when we called to him, he spared us, in him you should put you’re trust!

Note: I wrote this piece as a short rhyming Novel.

Author Ken
June 23, 2019

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Latest Comments

  • 4 years ago

    by Truth Bringer

    i am enjoying this and would love to read longer version