By Dabing

If self-challenge can be deemed as self-conquest,then I believe that as a mountaineer who has conquered several snowy mountains,I am the one who likes to conquer,and I don’t see what’s wrong about it. I believe Pengpeng,an experienced mountaineer nicknamed “Birdman,” must feel the same way as I do—why not?

“Well,” said Pengpeng,“I’ll tell you about my failures if you wish to know.”

Climbing up Xuebaoding

Xuebaoding,a 5588-meter-high snow-covered peak,is the highest point of Minshan Mountain in Sichuan Province,China.

Xuebaoding means “the Conch Mountain in the East” in Tibetan,and it is one of the “holy” peaks in the Tibetan Region. The peak is abundant in crystals of different colors which are said to be purer than those found elsewhere.

Leading a team of 14 amateurs,who had little experience in mountain-climbing,Pengpeng was quite confident when they departed. “Let’s go,dudes,” he said,“We’re going to stand on that peak.” Four snowy peaks technically more difficult to climb were already under his feet,so he was definitely sure this one was no big deal.

Pengpeng thought it would take four hours to finish the 800-meter slope leading to Camp One. However,it took them six hours because the slope was too steep and the snow was too heavy. They had to walk along the rims of the cliff for most of the time. It was extremely difficult to allocate one’s physical strength for so long. Six hours of climbing was far beyond any amateur’s expectation.

When they finally got to the camp and were about to sit down and rest,they were suddenly assaulted by a strong wind with icy precipitation. One man’s hat was blown away several hundred meters below the snowcovered hillside. The wind,like an invisible giant,mischievously spat the freezing air on their faces,taking the breaths from their lungs.

“Set up your ten...” Pengpeng shouted,as the wind shoved the last syllable of his words back into his throat.

Camping at the Stormy Cliff

The camp consisted of two quarters covering an area of less than 10 square meters in total; the higher quarter was slightly more than one meter wide and three or four meters long. The other camp downslope was no larger than it. The camp,built on steep ridges by different groups of climbers could provide up to three tents in which sixteen climbers could barely lie flat. On the left was the cliff they had just climbed; on the right was a snow cornice. The whole camp was on a bare hilltop—there was not even a rock for shelter.

In such a harsh place,very few of the amateur mountaineers were able to sleep as they were worried about the tents being blown down the cliff. This nearly happened several times when they set up the tents. When they ultimately got into the tents,everyone was speechless.

The wind became fiercer outside the tents in the night. Together with the heavy snow,the weather tore at the tents,as if a tiger were clawing at a ramshackle door.

The “Birdman” frowned and doubted whether he himself was a little frightened. As an organizer he knew he should not show any fear. When he looked up,he saw everyone frowning.

How was it going on the route leading to the summit? Unclear. At this altitude,you can’t know how long your physical strength will last. The wind was getting stronger and stronger,and the risk going both directions was growing as well. He saw that everybody knew it.

Around midnight,the wind stopped for a while. Looking outside the tent,Pengpeng could see the distant peak of Xuebaoding,resembling a thin finger pointing to the pale white moon. The next day would be the Mid-Autumn Festival when,according to the original plan,they would have finished their climb and gone down the mountain for a celebration. But now,no one knew what their festival would be like.

Fortunately and unexpectedly,there was cell phone signal in such a place. Several climbers kept texting or calling their family or friends,telling that they were safe. One man sobbed while speaking on the phone.

The next day,Mid-Autumn Festival,the 5100-meter-high camp continued to be stormy and foggy,with visibility less than 20 meters. The team was forced to give up their plan of climbing. However,in such a situation,going down the mountain seemed to be a form of suicide. The group could only stay in their tents and wait for good weather. What’s worse,a few climbers’ altitude sickness began to intensify.

Retreating Step by Step

In the afternoon,the wind turned weaker. Pengpeng asked his assistant to suit up and walk out of the tent. “I want to try it again. Going up a little...” he said. His assistant patted on his shoulder without a word.

They carefully fastened the ropes with rock anchors on the ridge through thigh-deep snow,and then began to climb up slowly. Their gloves hardly withstood the cold wind; the freezing coldness their hands felt kept telling them there could be deadly frostbites.

They climbed to a place called Camel’s Back,where the slopes on both sides were over 60 degrees. In the past,several mountaineers had lost their grip and died here.

They were trapped in front of a bulging snow wall. The wind had kept blowing for more than an hour. The two men could have been blown away at any second.

Pengpeng shouted at the sky with all his strength,“All right! I’ll take it!”

Two hours later,they retreated to Camp One,and collapsed in front of the tents.

Then it was another stormy night. One tent loosened and was almost blown down the hill.

The wind and the snow stopped in the dawn,and one more time,the summit could be clearly seen,enticing them to try again.

“What are we going to do now?” one man asked.

Pengpeng looked at Xuebaoding and said,“Just give up.”

After two days and two nights on the stormy mountain,their climbing expedition stopped about 500 meters from the summit.

But Pengpeng learned from his survival. “That day I learned how to admit failure. Gradually I began to understand a little bit. Acceptance of failure can also be a success sometimes.”

(FromA Thousand Paths to Happiness,China CITIC Press. Translation: Wang Xiaoke)