“I’m falling! I’m falling!” is all I can think. Falling had been my worst fear this whole trip. I was assured I wouldn’t fall. They said they would be beside me the whole way. Now I’m all alone; falling alone. Mich talked me into coming; Tyler and Nick had brought me here. If it wasn’t for them I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be falling. They’re the reason I am falling.
I was convinced to come only to the base camp, to wish them good luck. Tyler and Nick are great climbers and friends of mine. We had been climbing the together almost every weekend now for three years. We were in great shape, climbing rock faces all around Buron. In the winter we would go to the indoor climbing facility in Gori. We have had plenty of experiences on rock surfaces and in gyms; but this was different. I had never climbed an ice face before, never less a whole mountain. Nick and Tyler went last year and had such a blast, scheduled for all of us to scale a mountain. They assured me it would be the time of my life; and I was afraid it would. Without me completely turning them down, as I should have, they signed us all up. I haven’t had any experiences on ice. Last fall, on our last climb of the year; I lost my footing and slipped and broke my leg. This of course stopped me from climbing all winter. I’ve been trying to get back in shape and keep up with the guys. Since then, I’ve been terrified of slipping and falling.
There I was at the base camp; I was only there to wave them off. The guide Mitch, only trying to be friendly says, “Are you excited for the climb tomorrow?” Ashamed, I reply, “I’m not going.” Mitch could obviously tell I was afraid; but after a long lecture, I was going.
There I was the day of the climb; the day I’ve been dreading for over a year. I didn’t sleep much, especially since Mitch believes in early rising. I packed all my gear into my backpack; supposedly to be around fifty pounds, which I really doubt. I hauled my ‘not so light’ backpack and met up with the rest of the climbers. There were about twelve of us, and Tyler and Nick were by far the most excited. After not long, Mitch announced, “It’s five! Let’s go!” and headed towards the first ice wall. We were climbing the steep side of the mountain. At some places the ice protruded and we were to climb under and over the cliffs. There were two walls of ice on the mountain; each was at least a hundred feet high. In-between there was a level, snowy area where we would make camp and sleep tonight. The other side had a much more gradual incline, which is used in the summer; however in the winter is known for avalanches.
We approached the wall, where a thick layer of ice had frozen over. Mitch told us to get out our icepicks and crampons (metal spikes that go over the boots). To my surprise, I couldn’t unzip my backpack and had to take off my gloves. It was defiantly well below zero, and my fingers stuck to the cold metal. I quickly ripped my fingers loose, and shoved them back into my gloves. While I was struggling to get the crampons on, without taking off my gloves; Mitch was giving instructions that I missed. Mitch scurried up the wall; everyone else seemed to do just fine as well. Then Nick called, “You coming?” “Sure!” I jumped up; even though I had no idea how I would make it all the way to the top. I hobbled over to the ice wall, stuck my foot in and pushed up. Then I reached up, throwing the pick into the ice above. I was climbing. I made it over halfway, when my left foot broke loose; I panicked. Mitch called down some, probably helpful, instructions that I couldn’t understand. I jammed my foot in and continued up. When I made it to the top, Tyler commented, “We thought you were finished!” “I made it!” I smiled. I was surprised myself.

We trudged through the waist deep snow, to the next ice wall. This wall was almost twice as high as and much steeper than the first one. As we moved through the snow, I was falling through almost to the bottom on every step. Mitch was walking quite easily across the snow on snow shoes. He was the only one smart enough to bring them. At the base of the wall we set up camp for the night. We fell asleep fast, because we could be sure of an early wake. It was a very cold night. Every part of me froze or came pretty close. I laid there forever, just waiting for morning. Mitch eventually showed up banging on my tent. I arose to see Nick and Tyler already packing their tents. They must have been just as ready as I. Mitch made us pancakes on a little gas stove he had brought. It wasn’t much, but was nice to have something warm in the cold.
The second wall was the most difficult. I went seventh, in the middle. I suppose Mitch figured someone could then help me if I get stuck again. “We’ll go one at a time. In case anyone falls!” said Mitch jokingly. Each person took over a half hour to scale up almost two hundred feet of ice. The worst part about waiting, which I didn’t mind, was every minute I became more afraid of the wall. Also my feet and fingers were icing up from not moving. Nick went before me, he seemed to be the quickest up, or maybe time went too fast. It was my turn. “Good luck!” Tyler said giving me a pat on the back. “Thanks, I’ll need it!” I replied and faced the wall.
I decide not to look up or down and just focus on the wall. I started slowly, my rhythm continued; I was making my way up the wall. I was doing pretty well. My leg and arm muscles burned, but I kept going. At last I made it to the top of the wall. I could see the flag at the peak. Only a few hundred yards through the snow. I made it. Reaching up with the pick in my right hand, I hooked into the top of the wall. I pulled out my left pick, maybe a little too hard. The ice cracked, louder then I feared it would be. Both picks came out. I jumped, reaching for Mitch's hand at the top. Both feet were loose. I missed his hand.