Never Ending Journeys
It was a hard fought summit. I was only a step below the needle point. And I stopped. No human had stepped upon this summit before though many had tried, few even perished in the attempt. It had taken my team over four weeks of sheer hell to reach where we were. As usual I was leading the pack of the first summit team. Frozen walls of ice, tumbled down into oblivion all around us. They were so steep that I could lean out and see all the way to the bottom of the wall around 1600m below. I had been dreaming of this summit for many years, since I had first set my eyes upon it from a neighbouring summit. Since then I had been dreaming that one day I would step upon the crown of this majestic peak, spearing into the blue sky like a silent sentinel. Yet I stopped only a step below. I didn’t wish to go any further. I didn’t wish to step upon this elusive summit, of which I have been dreaming for so many years. It was strange. All my anxiety, excitement, agony, everything suddenly ev