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Placing my tools methodically I work my way across the ice, back toward the soft snow on our original line. The helicopter arrives, oddly on time, to film the most exciting part of the climb. It circles like a hawk, the nose-mounted camera tracking my progress with intent, but I barely even notice it.
This finally feels like climbing, like how I imagined it from all my parent’s stories around the dining table. Staring back at Fraser, perched on the edge of this icy world, great gaping space all around me, the only attachment to earth a constant thunk of metal on ice. I love a good early morning detour.
