ReadFin Literary Journal (Winter 2018)

Leathery Face Local
Martin Markus
I caught a bus to a nearby Japanese village and commenced my
adventure. I trekked through the lush green lower altitudes and
then started my way up the mountain. The vegetation quickly
changed to a rocky alpine landscape encrusted with snow. I
pitched my tent outside a rustic base camp with the intention to
negotiate the summit the following morning.
I crossed paths with a leathery faced local that night, who
turned out to be one of the park rangers. During our conversation,
he discovered I planned to attempt the summit. He was
quick to ask about what equipment I had brought along. I replied
that I had warm clothes and strong trekking boots. The park
official then asked in his broken English “what about your ropes,
ice-axe and crampons?” I explained that during summer the
mountains were not a technical climb and there was no need to
invest in that type of equipment. The leathery face local suddenly
became gravely concerned and said: “I don’t recommend you
climb without equipment. It’s very, very, very dangerous. You
might slip and hurt yourself. Many people die on the mountain!”
I was unconvinced that there was any real danger and perhaps
over-confident with my own abilities. It was just recently that I
effortlessly bounded up to Everest Base Camp in Nepal. I decided
to challenge the official and said: “So, is it law that I can’t climb
without equipment or just a recommendation?” The park ranger
repeated: “You must not climb, it’s very dangerous!” So, I pressed
him further: “law or recommendation?”
The conversation went around in circles until finally the park
official submitted to having no legal power to stop me. But he
explained that there is snow at the top due to the colder high
altitudes. And this meant slippery conditions. He again warned
against attempting the climb without the correct equipment. I
refused to take the advice on board and promptly hit the hay to
be well rested for the big day.
After sunrise, I packed my gear and began labouring up the
mountain. The soft snow quickly began to harden and the gradient
of the slope increased. It didn’t take long to realise that
I was essentially walking on rock solid and very slippery ice. I
wondered if perhaps, that leathery face local actually knew what
he was talking about. I looked up and there was still a long way
to go before reaching the summit. And the was gradient only
getting steeper.
I continued walking by placing my boots in natural divots in
the ice. This gave some traction but it was becoming abundantly
obvious that if I slipped, it was going to be difficult – if not impossible
– to stop myself from careening down the icy mountain
at dangerous speeds. I took a few more steps and was about to
call it quits when that serendipitous moment happened. My
feet flipped out from underneath me and I fell hard on solid ice.
I pathetically tried to dig my numb cold fingers into the ice to
create some friction but the laws of physics were already taking
hold. I began to slide. Slow at first, but I kept accelerating despite
my best efforts to dig my boots, my elbows, or anything into the
ice to slow down. It was useless. Within seconds my speed had
picked up to the point of no return.
My body felt like it was being run through a giant icy bench
grinder as it shredded into my clothes and into my bare flesh.
The natural divots in the ice battered me with no mercy. I was
alone on the mountain and beyond human help. I looked up and
saw that I was headed for a rocky patch. I collided with the rocks
at great speed. The rocks were my saviour. They gave the friction
that I needed to slow down. I stuck out my arms and legs to maximise
the collision. The rocks did their job and I stopped.
I lay still on my back and stared at the Japanese alpine sky and
felt the pain slowly creep into my body. I then assessed the damage.
My hands and wrists were badly grazed but no serious bleeding.
I also had some wicked bruising to my back and hips. Several
layers of warm clothes had buffered me from further injury. The
only thing now was, to get back down without incident.
Descending was going to be a long and hazardous journey. I
couldn’t afford to take any further risk. So, I tobogganed down
the slope sans toboggan. I also used a long sharp rock as my
pseudo ‘ice axe’ to continuously ram into the ice and prevent
any build-up of momentum. This worked a treat although felt as
though it was suffering from frostbite.
Once I successfully reached the bottom, I was able to stand up
and feel all the aches and pains throughout my upright body.
At this point I felt foolish as the park ranger had warned me. I
admitted defeat to the mountain and started heading back to
civilization with my tail between my legs. However, I made sure
to avoid the base camp in order not to give the leathery face local
his well-deserved, ‘I told you so!’
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