December 9, 2010 - The Move to High Camp

We broke camp after a breakfast of oatmeal and cocoa.  There was an enthusiastic vibe to the team - conditions were ideal and we would be moving to High Camp.  If the weather forecast proved correct, we might well leave for the summit the very next day.  Each person's share of group gear was divvied out by Doug.  In addition to my own things, I would carry a tent, tent poles and a canister of fuel.  My pack looked massive once everything had been loaded into it, but the weight was less than the 60 pounds that I trained for.  We roped up into two teams, until reaching the bottom of the fixed lines.  I coiled the rope, after myself, Mitchell and Guy unclipped from it.  Doug stood next to his pack smiling, as I turned to hand him the rope.  He'd already secured his rope to the top of his pack and the clear message was that I should do the same.  Steve noticed this, and immediately offered to carry my rope.  I've met many successful people who, in reality, were only successful at harvesting the efforts of others.  Steve is not one of them.  Steve was always quick to volunteer if there was a difficult or unpleasant task to be done.  Equally important, he is a builder, whose cheerleading brings out the best in those around him.  As an Investment Banker, Steve occupies a much vilified post on the heels of the recent global financial crisis.  Yet it is easy to sort him from the rabble of posers who typify that enterprise.  The duress of any mountain climb, eventually reveals the true character of those involved.  Steve had been revealed to be the genuine article.  I insisted on carrying the rope. This was part of a pledge I made to myself at the start of what I knew to be a difficult day.  I would bear whatever weight came to me and not utter a single complaint.  The rope was another 3 pounds, and though I would feel that weight in the course of ascending 3,000 feet, I judged it manageable.
We started up the fixed lines.  My legs felt strong, assisted by an ice axe in one hand and an ascender in the other.  I was breathing hard as we climbed into the thinner air, resting occasionally to take in the frozen vastness beneath me.  The playful banter of the prior day was absent, as team members labored beneath much larger loads.  Doug had commented earlier in the day, that he had heard me phoning in a blog entry and it sounded "Quite dramatic".  I took this to mean embellished.   As I threw down my pack at the top of the fixed lines, I commented that when I write about that part, it was going to sound quite dramatic.   We added the items cached the day before, at the top of the ropes.  Doug additionally asked Guy and I to take on a few items to lighten the load of one member who was struggling a bit.  We readily agreed.  At this point my pack felt truly substantial.  We trudged the remaining hour and a half to High Camp, put up tents, ate a freeze dried meal and turned in for the night. 
As I lay in my sleeping bag, I thought about the comment I'd made to Doug and regretted it.  Doug is an outstanding guide, who works incredibly hard in the course of looking after clients.  He is watchful and protective, repeating various cautions against frostbite and snow blindness, to the point of caring harassment.  His agreeable demeanor is an excellent foundation upon which solid group cohesion may be built.  And group cohesion in this type of climbing, is everything.  So very appropriately, I drifted off to the sounds of "Enter Sandman" by Metallica playing on my iPod.