Last fall, while I was soul searching in India , I nearly died. I ignored common sense, allowed myself to get caught up in the moment and found myself alone in a dark and angry ocean. I envisioned my death and the Arabian Sea as my graveyard. It´s the only time in my life that I ever actually had the conscience thought of death approaching. I, of course, made it back to the shore that night, but the experience has never left me.
A few years ago I tired and failed to climb Cotopaxi, the worlds tallest active volcano. Last week I set out to try again. This time I had been training and thought I was much better prepared for the attempt. In an effort to save money I also decided to forgo a guide this time. So, on Sunday at midnight with rented equipment and no sleep I left the base camp to make my attempt at the summit. My first attempt had ended in failure when I came down with severe altitude sickness before I even left camp. This time, with my training I felt fine as we began and inched along the ice. Base camp is just below where the permanent ice ends, from there the rest of the volcano is covered in steep glacial ice. I had found another single climber to tie myself to for protection against a fall, but still a fall on Cotopaxi could certainly be one you never got up from. Most of the trek is on a 45 degree sheet of smooth ice. I was scared, and as my head lamp illuminated the ground at my feet I tried not to think too much. Every now and then we would use an ice axe to chip away a space to stop at and admire the view. We were by now many thousands of feet above the clouds but peaks of other high mountains could be seen in every direction. The dark sky held more stars then Ive perhaps ever seen and it felt like we were on the roof of the world.
We kept going, and I began to feel sick. My head throbbed, my chest emptied, my heart pounded and my feet became unsteady. We kept going and for each step my condition worsened. By the time the sky began to brighten I had been sick for many hours, though all the while steadily climbing. I concentrated on nothing more the my next step and driving my ice axe firmly down. Day came and with it I could see the summit, which gave me a new burst of energy. Though it wouldn't last and I began to literally feel like I would burst into a thousand pieces. The physical pain was intense and I was nearing a breaking point but my real concern had nothing to do with pain. My balance by now was very shaky and I was having alot of trouble placing my feet. We climbed up a sheet of ice at 60 degrees and built a hole to rest in. I decided to stop. We were nearly at the base of a 7 meter (22 foot) wall of ice which would be our last real obstacle before reaching the crater. I didn't care how close we were, I had made my decision. I had climbed 5,860 meters of a 5,897 meter volcano that I had been fantasizing of conquering for years and training for for many months, and stopped. (((I had climbed 19,220 feet of a 19,347 foot volcano that I had been fantasizing of conquering for years and training for for many months, and stopped.))) I desperately wanted to go on and had debated my options for hours in my head but I made the decision with a clear conscience and no regret. My balance was bad, my energy low and even my vision didn't seem to be right. A fall here meant at best serious injury if not death and no view is worth that risk. Back in India last year when I finally felt the sand between my toes and collapsed on the isolated beach, I promised myself to never again be so reckless with life, any life. On Sunday I completed that promise.