1-21-23
The morning was tense because the Mulas knew it was the first carry day. Each expedition member would be assigned a group load. The loads were white grain bags full of food, equipment and fuel. On one hand everyone wanted a fair load, on the other hand, the meals were organized meal days nothing was even. Mulas Locas took their load bags with concern and they added the 7-11kg bags to their 100L expedition packs which many had already put a few personal items in addition to their essential items. They marched their way up the moraine, gravel and rocks of every size underfoot. The sun was bright and there was only a light breeze, they were lightly dressed. Some were breaking new boots or new-to-them rentals. A few slipped and scrambled. The wet gravel gave way to ancient glacial ice. The headwall to Camp 1 appeared and to their right was a huge penitente field. The white icy spines gave a otherworldly texture to the steep rocks and dirt. Mulas Locas team members breathed deeply in thin air, achingly trying to catch their breath. Hissing and spitting they got to the Camp 1 domes. They threw down their packs, gulping from canteens and between inhales of air they tossed over their group loads. Brows were furrowed, temple massaged, quiet regrets were probably had by many. Several ripped off double boots from their overheated feet and fell asleep like lizards on rocks.
Initially there was a somber descent, but the moment the team got the steeper part of the scree slope they started to jog and to trot eventually scree skiing down the slope. There were yells hoots and hollers as the 15 strong mob crashed down the moutainside by other climbers slowly ascending. They kicked up a huge plume of dust to match their mirth.
-Don Nguyen
