We fix the Khumbu with aluminium ladders and ropes, a different puzzle each year as the ice shifts. It stays the deadliest because no rope can hold a falling serac. People call us brave, but I think the real danger is the tired climber behind you, rushing when the ice whispers to wait. I know this because last season, I spent three hours moving a single ladder just ten feet, while a team from Europe argued about the time. The mountain chooses its moment; we only try to build a short, safe path through its house.
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