Patrick Woodhead - The Cloud Maker (2010)

She tried to shout back but her mouth was completely dry. As she fought to steady her breathing, her body slowly spun round on the end of the ropes, forcing her to look away from the cliff towards the distant mountains. Using her hips, she swung her weight round again, trying to get her feet flat against the rock. After a few moments of fighting they finally connected.

Shara swallowed a few times, trying to get some moisture into her mouth.

‘Fine,’ she shouted, feeling her lungs bursting from the effort.

A moment later the rope tugged upwards and, inch by inch, Luca slowly hoisted her the couple of metres back towards the ledge. Shara reached forward, gripping on to the rock and taking her weight out of her harness, feeling disorientated by the lack of support.

Edging her way along once more, she rounded a corner of the cliff to see Luca, hanging in the seat of his harness, coiling in the slack rope. As their eyes met, a smile flashed across his face before he reached out one hand. For a moment, Shara’s eyes flitted from the rock to his outstretched fingers, gauging the distance. Then, with a sudden lunge, she grabbed on to his wrist. The movement was clumsy but he was able to switch his grip and hold her tight, drawing her towards him.

Shara clung to his shoulders, a wave of relief washing over her at the contact, at the sudden feeling of being secure. Before she had even looked down, he had clipped her into the same two anchor points as himself and was gently pushing her back into her harness.

‘You OK?’ he said softly. He’d seen the same wide-eyed look many times before.

Shara exhaled, pushing back strands of hair from her clammy face.

‘I had no idea it was going to be like this,’ she said. Then after a pause while she tried to steady her breathing, ‘This probably isn’t what you want to hear, but I really hate heights.’

Luca laughed out loud.

‘Fine time to tell me.’

Despite herself, Shara found herself smiling.

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t worry, you’re doing great,’ he said.

Shara shook her head slowly, her voice barely more than a whisper. ‘I’ve always been dreading this part of the journey.’

‘Part of the journey?’ Luca asked, turning to look at her. ‘What do you mean?’

She shook her head again.

‘I’m just going to be a lot happier when we reach the top, that’s all.’

After a moment, he nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, it looks like the ledge gets broader up there and the going gets easier. We’re going to have to move fast, though, if we want to stay ahead of the weather.’

He gave another tug on the rope and, moments later, Bill’s face appeared round the edge of the cliff.

For another four hours they continued climbing. Bill and Luca took it in turns to lead, while Shara stayed in between. Bill remained silent for most of the climb, taking the sling full of hardware from Luca as they switched leads and pressing on up the ledge without another word. He climbed fast, pulling impatiently at the rope to Shara’s harness and forcing her to keep pace. But as the ledge became easier, she began to climb with more confidence. The crippling sense of fear she had felt at the beginning was now forgotten, replaced by a strange sense of exhilaration.

Finally, she came out on to the top of the cliff and staggered like a drunk over to where Luca stood, pulling the rope through a belay.

‘That was incredible,’ she said, flopping down on the flat rock.

Luca’s eyes switched from staring at the far mountains and he smiled down at her.

‘That was one hell of a first climb. You should be proud of yourself.’

Shara gave a tired but happy smile. Beyond where Luca stood, she could see the high summits of the mountains encircling them like an immense amphitheatre, their peaks stretching up thousands of metres into the sky. Glaciers streamed down from their summits, converging on the lower slopes. Not far from where they were, she could see the snub nose of the nearest one, rising up like a pitted barricade.

Moments later, Bill appeared above the cliff edge. He walked straight past where Shara was sitting and up to Luca.

‘Great climb, huh?’ Luca said, smiling.

Bill seemed not to have heard him. ‘We need to get moving to the shelter higher up,’ he said. ‘The wind’s picking up fast, like you said.’

Shara got to her feet and walked up to where they were standing. She had been so absorbed in the climb she hadn’t even noticed the changing weather. The ghostly clouds they had seen that morning now streamed across the sky, muting the afternoon light. They had obviously been climbing in the lee of the wind for all this time, but now they were exposed to its full force and she could feel it rip through her heavy jumper. Reaching into her pack, she put on the sheepskin jacket, using her leather belt to pull it tight around her body and buttoning it high up under her chin. The jacket also had a hood lined with soft wool and fringed with long, black fur that she pulled up to protect her face.

‘Let’s get moving,’ Luca said, his eyes switching back to their route up the glacier. ‘We’ve got to get to the far side to be out of the wind. You OK with that, Shara?’

She looked pale and tired, but without another word swung her pack on to her shoulders, ready to leave. Luca smiled again, amazed by how different she seemed from the angry and aloof girl they had first met in the village. Bill had been completely wrong about her, he was sure of it.

‘I’m ready.’

Within seconds she was roped up between the two of them and together they trudged off towards the start of the snowline like convicts in a chain gang.

With each minute that passed, the wind grew steadily in strength. Funnelled by the adjacent peaks, it rampaged down the mountainside, picking up loose snow from the glacier floor and hurtling past them. Squinting against the swirling air, Luca leaned into it, concentrating on the route ahead. They had to reach the shelter of the higher ground.

As he marched forward, tugging at the rope, Shara struggled to keep pace. She panted in the thin air as huge, swirling belts of cloud rolled across the sky, blurring out the horizon. The ground had become a great flowing blanket of driven snow, with the wind streaming across the hardened ice, until all they could do was bend lower still against the maelstrom.

Luca trudged forward without checking his stride. All around them, the noise of the wind grew and grew, until it became a shrieking sound that made the sides of their Gore-Tex hoods clatter at deafening volume.

Hours passed and the strength of the wind only increased. It was relentless, the streaming snow eddying round their faces and condensing on their raw cheeks. Snow forced its way past their hats and neck gaiters, trickling down their bodies like sand and making them shiver from cold.

They had been going for three hours when suddenly the rope at Luca’s waist snapped tight. He waited for a moment, bracing himself against the wind, then stepped forward once again. It remained fixed. Behind him, he could see the blurry outline of Shara. She was bent forward, her hands on her knees.

As he trudged back along the rope towards her, Bill appeared out of the gloom. For a moment they stood in silence as the snow quickly covered the coils of rope at their feet. Shara was still bent double, struggling to breathe in the rushing air. Frost layered her face and her heavy jacket hood was caked in snow. She was shaking violently from the cold, her arms hugging her body to stay warm.

Luca pulled her upright, staring into her eyes. They were glassy, her eyelashes frosted at the end.

‘Hold on,’ he shouted to her. ‘We’re stopping here.’

Bill swung off his rucksack, pulling out the tent and poles. With heads bent low, they knelt on the hard snow, staking down the main body of the tent while the fabric flapped and twisted in the wind. Bill had his right glove off, the end clamped between his teeth, as he used his bare fingers to work the poles through the fabric sleeves.