Snow, stones, and leaves pelted my face. Visibility was hindered. I lowered my head and pushed on.
The hardened mud path became soft and wet, then gave way to snow. I got down on all fours, slowly crawling up the slippery slope.
The winds howled. Powerfully. One by one, we get knocked down by the invisible force of nature. I looked around me: there were fewer than 10 of us remaining near the top. Every single one sat down on the snow path, holding on to dear lives.
“It’s impossible! The wind is too strong and the path is too slippery!” said one hiker, as she moved down, inch by inch, on her bum, too afraid to stand up.
An Asian guy sent his partner down to safety and tried again. He strode effortlessly up the snow path and went farther than everyone else. He too, slid down the mountain a few minutes later in disappointment.
“It’s too dangerous! The wind is too strong!”
I asked him how far were we from the top. “Around 100m.”
Damn it! We’re so close!
The winds howled again.