Each step had felt torturous as I heaved their weight towards Camp 4, and every now and then I briefly imagined the sweet release of an avalanche collapsing above me. Picturing my fall in the whiteout, I felt the eruption sucking me down deeper, a rock or chunk of ice knocking me unconscious. Out cold, I’d suffocate quickly, blissfully free of pain; the suffering would come to an end. Thankfully, those thoughts were only ever fleeting.
