Field notes from the high places

Day 12 and I thought I had nothing left. My guide Dawa sat beside me in silence at Gorak Shep while the clouds parted. Neither of us said a word for twenty minutes. I think that silence was the summit for me.

Thorong La in a whiteout. Wind so strong you leaned into it at 45 degrees. I turned to a stranger from Slovenia. We looked at each other: "We are idiots. Let's keep going." She is now one of my closest friends.

11 days, three countries, one continuous ridge. On day 7 above the Col de la Croix du Bonhomme, clouds rolled in from Italy below us like a tide. We stood above the weather and watched lightning in silence.