U.\~"IJ ICE CLIMBING 1 01 •••
IT WAS SIMPLY A MATTER OF KEEPING PANIC AT BAY. DARK FEAR LOOMED AT THE PERIPHERY OF MY MOVEMENT, FRAMING MY FOCUS WITH A HALO OF DOUBT. I HAD CLIMBED TWO- THIRDS OF THE 90-FOOT ICICLE BUT MY TECHNIQUE WAS SLIPPING. I WAS LOSING STRENGTH AT A FRIGHTENING RATE. TEN FEET BELOW ME, WHERE THE ANGLE HAD CHANGED FROM ALMOST VERTICAL TO VERY VERTICAL, I SAW MY LAST ICE SCREW, MY LAST CONNECTION TO THE ICE. IT HAD TAKEN ME FIVE STRENUOUS MINUTES TO TAP THE STARTER HOLE, GET THE THREADS TO BITE AND TWIST THE SCREW INTO THE ICE SECURELY. THAT HOLLOW EIGHT-INCH METAL SCREW, WITH MY ROPE CLIPPED THROUGH THE END OF IT, WAS MY ONLY SAFETY NET. A FALL NOW WOULD DROP ME TWICE THE DISTANCE I WAS ABOVE THE SCREW-FURTHER IF THE FORCE OF MY FALL PULLED THE SCREW LOOSE.
