It's the Climb | Teen Ink

It's the Climb

January 13, 2015
By andy rajala BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
andy rajala BRONZE, Clarkston, Michigan
1 article 0 photos 0 comments

The name is JP Auclair. I'm a twenty two year old man from Vancouver, British Columbia. I live a very adventurous life consisting of mountain climbing, hiking and skiing. I love the outdoors and everything about nature. The sounds of birds chirping and waterfalls roaring. That earthy scent that is really indescribable, you just have to be in nature to experience it.


Every Time I'm outside I feel connected to Mother Nature, and I seem to always have a good time. However, I did have one weird and unexplainable adventure. It happened two years ago, on a solo climb at a lower region of Mount Everest.


I stood at the base of the mountain. The crisp and cold wind rolling over my age beaten face. The sun blinding me out of the corner of my eye. Every time I inhale my lungs freeze over and it becomes hard to breath. My dark brown hair freezes in a curly state. I know what I'm doing, I think to myself. I mean I have been climbing and skiing mountains my whole life. I always seem to have anxiety attacks before climbs.


I try to calm myself the best I can, deep and slow breaths. I clear my mind and only think of the good. I block out all the bad because this is my escape from problems.


I'm able to build up the courage to begin my trek up the mountain. Every step I take crunches the thin top layer of snow, allowing my feet to sink into the deep and fluffy powder beneath. As I continue to hike up I see a strange green orb off in the distance. I don't make much off it due to the fact it is probably just a light for a shanty out on the mountain, which are very  common. I also notice the snow is a bit loose. Doesn't seem too bad, not capable of an avalanche. The last 200 feet until the top is always the hardest. My legs become jelly as I push myself harder and harder not to give up. My lungs feel like bursting from the cold air and the work I've put in. Finally I reach the top and I am beyond relieved. The sweet joy of being on top of the world and looking around at every tiny village and the smaller land features surrounding you.


I enjoy myself for ten minutes or so minutes. I glance around at the smaller mountain ranges around me. I see the smoke rising up from hiking camps nearby. I feel the wind pick up as it blows around me and over rocks. At times the wind blows and sounds like a freight train coming at me. I wait a little bit until the wind dies down.
I proceed to strap into my skis and I inch myself closer to the edge of the initial drop. Looking down gets the adrenaline pumping, and this is the thrill I love and seek.


With the push of my poles I begin to blaze down the mountain. I carve down the hill, my skis rolling on the snow like a knife on butter. Each sharp turn I make I create a cloud of snow in my wake. Everything is going smooth. But one particular thing does bother me, each turn I make creates a small slide of snow in front of me.


Not thinking much of it I continue down. Until I hit a hard turn and the snow is swept out beneath my feet and I begin to freefall down the hill, being covered in snow. I don't exactly know how long I was falling, but it felt like ages. I come to a rest, disoriented, unfamiliar of where I am, and covered in what I believe is five feet of snow. I start to dig with my clammy and shaking hands, digging towards what I believe is the surface. After a while I realize I'm making no progress. At this point I start to lose hope. Knowing that nobody is within twenty miles of me, this is the end for me. Faint cries are let out that are hard for even me to hear, and tears roll down my face. Everything starts to get fuzzy and my breathing slows down. What I start to see is black. Nothing but a black dark abyss even though my eyes are open. About thirty seconds later I start to black out, and that's when it hits me. What I think is the end of me.

I wake up with a slamming headache and no memory of what happened. I am laying at the bottom of the mountain that almost killed me. But there was one eerie thing, nobody was around me. Nothing was around me. No people, buildings or even footprints. It seems like I appeared here out of thin air. I spend the next hour or so just sitting, not doing much. I try to grasp my mind around what just happened. I hop on the snowmobile and take of blazing. My only goal is to make it to a camp along the mountain before dark.


The first one I come across has a group that just finished a hike. When they see me, they can tell something is wrong.


“Can we help you with anything? Is everything alright?” a young women around thirty asks me.
“Avalanche,” I spit out of my mouth as I am lost for words.


Everyone there looks at me is complete disarray.
“How are you here? Did someone dig you out?” a man asks me.
For a minute I just stand there, To be honest I don't know how I am here, I think to myself. 
"I can't remember," I squeak out.

 

I spend the next three hours with this group. I explain everything that I can remember happening. One thing that stood out to me was their facial expressions and body language. They seemed shocked and a little freaked out. I ask them for help and any ideas of how I could've been excavated from 4 feet of snow. Some answers include monks, angels or even supernatural forces.


The time I spent with them gets me no answers, and it just confuses me even more. I decided it would be best to return hope. I drive into town and get on the earliest flight home. I was hoping this would just go away in the back of my mind, but it won't. Every night is spent tossing and turning, thinking about what or who saved me.
Three years passed and I still didn't have an answer to who saved me. One summer day I was sitting on the couch in my Vancouver home. It was hot and muggy, fans on at full blast. The air was relatively still, and so was I. All of the sudden there's a knock on the door. I swing the door open and I am surprised by what I see.
"Hello sir, how has everything been going," the man in robes says.


“Every thing is fine. I wanna ask who are you,” I reply.


“I saved your life."


That's all he said. We spent hours talking about that particular day, and what was going through his mind in the heat of the moment. Words like worried, shocked, and appalled.


"Why did you wait this whole time to tell me you saved me. I was scared thinking angels might have saved me," I asked curiously.


What is said in response is quite possibly the most inconceivable quote I've ever heard.


"No mysteries of life will go unsolved," says the man in robes.

 


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