We sat in silence for several minutes, perched on a narrow island of rock. On both sides, a thousand feet of emptiness stretched to the glaciers below. We huddled like three pilgrims contemplating a cruel world, each of us waiting for another to speak.
Climbers know that a descent on such terrain can be a deathtrap.
One slip means the end. The decision was made with little discussion, but not without regret. We would tie our two ropes together and rappel off the ridge. Then we would traverse until we were below the notch where we had started. It was 5 p.m.