I ripped off my glove and my fingers began spurting blood everywhere, crimson dripping in the mud. My thoughts immediately turned to the winter…
I turn to Uisdean and look him square on. It’s still snowing: thick icing sugar which coats our jackets and drowns our hopes.
There is a tightness in my stomach. I will need all the grace in the world to get safely down to Base Camp.
We wriggle from our pits at 1.00 am, the canvas of the tent sparkling from another night in the deep freeze. It was a long, sleepless night.