2nd Hut

We must have collapsed with exhaustion, but Guide must have cared for me because I awoke comfortable, while upon the ground, with the smell of breakfast cooking in what I would soon learn was second hut. I explored the new terrain; I signed my name in the book there on the mountain, along with the inscription "All Is Full of Love" which although is not technically correct, reflected my feeling at the moment.

Second Hut

We went for what must have been hours but seemed like days. The altitude was overwhelming, an exhaustion set in that on moving slowly could cure, and moving slowly seems to be a hypnosis that saturated the consciousness. At times I felt like my heart was exploding. Maybe second hut is only a myth. Maybe second hut is only a broken heart. We could camp anywhere, but the goal 'lies ahead'. The sun is setting, and a view of the peaks lit with late day sun burns into the heart. It is hard to press on when everything seems already well beyond expectation. The guide urges on, I follow.

Beyond the Mountains, are More Mountains

(Fiction, Part 4) After hours of climbing and several false summits, I realize I have no clear idea of the scope of the problem. I am not even sure where second hut is. My guide and I have some language barriers so I can only trust that he knows what we are doing.

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Indescribable Beauty

For a moment the mists cleared and much to my surprise was a panorama and vista I was not prepared for, a Garden of Eden with such richness and detail; beyond the mountains, more mountains! Exhilarated, I climbed on. The feeling became more and more intense with each step, even when the clouds engulfed us again

Kitchen, First Hut

(Part 2 of a fictional narrative) Moving up and away from First Hut I was almost immediately enclosed by thick cloud cover. The only part of the path I could do was the one right in front of my feet. Cloud streamed all about me, and I was soaked pretty quick. My guide was slightly better prepared for this than I was, but now he remained silent most of the time. Clouds and silence were all we knew. My mind wandered back to the relative warmth and dry comfort of First Hut kitchen the night before, which had been spartan enough at the time, but now seemed like a luxury.

(photo, Mt. Fako, Cameroon, First Hut's kitchen)