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Thirty-Six
BROOKE
We spent most of the day traveling the countryside of southwest Norway, before taking an evening boat-ride to some frozen shore. At this time of year the days were short up here, the nights long. The lack of sun sapped your energy almost immediately, whether you liked it or not. And I definitely didn’t like it.
I liked even less what we had to do next.
“Shit…”
Reese muttered the word just out of camera range, as we stood huddled at the base of a sheer rock wall. It stretched high overhead, hundreds, maybe thousands of feet. Even worse was its dripping, translucent surface.
“Is that—”
“Ice,” Devin nodded. “We’re ice-climbing.”
An hour later we were all geared up; spiked boots, pick-tools and everything. It wasn’t just us, it was every team — guides and all. The night sky shifted high above us, all flecked with greens and yellows and golds. I’d seen the northern lights in countless movies and while surfing the internet. As beautiful as they were in person, I tried to focus on the task at hand.
“Don’t look down,” advised Devin, “and always concentrate on what you’re doing. One step at a time, and keep moving.”
“Yes, dad,” snickered Reese.
“I’m serious,” Devin warned. “We get five checkpoints along the wall, with time penalties for missing each one. We don’t stop, no matter how tired we are. None of us. Got it?”
We didn’t just climb, we marathoned. The challenge turned out to be an all-night endeavor, complete with huffing and puffing and random cries of frustration and pain. It was too dark and misty to know what the other teams were doing, but their voices floated eerily in from all around us. Eventually, as we pulled ourselves higher in our harnesses, most of the voices all came from below, and not above.
There were mandatory rest stops all teams were forced to take, but they seemed to be over before they began. Eventually, somehow sweating and freezing at the same time, we clawed our way over the top. One by we rolled onto our backs, as the climbing assistants unhooked us from our harnesses and dropped our everyday boots and clothing at our feet.
“Remind me that I hate climbing,” I huffed, staring for a full guilty minute into the swirling, magical sky.
“You hate climbing,” Hayden quipped.
“Thanks.”
“Now get up and get ready to run.”
The news that we were still racing shouldn’t have surprised me, but somehow it did. We ran nevertheless, jogging our way down through a narrow roadway while carrying the bulk of our gear. Halfway along the road we encountered the Banshees, who were either too winded to taunt us or too exhausted to care. We passed them without fanfare, and as I caught Sarah’s eye she didn’t give so much as a nod in return.
“I think I heard weeping,” Devin said.
“What?”
“Back on the mountain,” he explained. “Someone crying in the mist.”
“If we’re lucky maybe they quit,” said Reese.
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” I replied. “Never Been Last isn’t exactly in shape for that climb.”
“You mean Only Lost Once?” laughed Reese.
“Whatever.”
“I hear you though,” Hayden affirmed. “The Ice Cousins couldn’t quite get the hang of the equipment, either. I’d be ironic if they got eliminated at an ice wall.”
Eventually we put our heads down and kept running, with me leading the way. It felt good to be the best at something. Though my endurance was nowhere near my track star days, I’d kept up with enough everyday running to easily set the pace.
No checkpoint was counted until all four people crossed the line, though. Which is why the guys had lost a million dollars last year.
“I still want to know what was said in that taxi,” I said abruptly.
