High above the Baltoro glacier, the wind whistles over corniced ridges and between teetering seracs. It whips spindrift off the snow and the icy fog sparkles with the wayward light of a hidden sun. I began to imagine, in my worsening hypoxic delirium, that that magical realm above the clouds was the gateway to another world. And so it was for five of us.
Summit fever
Summit fever
Summit fever
High above the Baltoro glacier, the wind whistles over corniced ridges and between teetering seracs. It whips spindrift off the snow and the icy fog sparkles with the wayward light of a hidden sun. I began to imagine, in my worsening hypoxic delirium, that that magical realm above the clouds was the gateway to another world. And so it was for five of us.