It was the adventure of a lifetime, the words of a local villager, fresh in their minds resounding with warning but oddly promoting the promise of glory, “Dummkopfs!  Fools! No one has ever defeated Der Unbesiegbar –The Unconquerable. Do not throw away your lives, it cannot be done! The spirit of evil lives in that mountain. I beg you Luke, I beg you Carl do not attempt this!”  Yet, there they were clinging to the vertical rock cliffs like two flies; dangling precariously with only a single rope between them and certain death.

They had been climbing for two days … the icy claws of the Alpine nights prodding them and raking them with merciless cold and the days with the feverish pulsing heat of the sun pounding at their backs. There was no comfort yet a strange peace found in the eerie endless expanse of white that towered above them. They jokingly promised each other that their next vacation would be spent in the tropics. And what of this mountainous monster Der Unbesiegbar? A week ago, a party of four had met their demise in an attempt to scale these mighty peaks the first day out. They had already beaten some odds and the only thing that mattered now was that they climb this wretched heap and reap the glory that would be justly deserved.  Still for Luke the thought that the spirit of the mountain would not rest or be satisfied until it claimed their Souls nagged him and made him uneasy. He struggled to think only of the ascent and the next step, and the next, and the next …

Luke hoisted himself up onto a narrow ledge and braced himself against the rock wall behind him. The sun light was too intense for him to see Carl who would be further down the slope waiting for a line. He tossed a length of rope down to Carl and waited for a tug so he could pull Carl up but there was no signal. The rope remained slack. Feeling Carl was playing a joke he grew quickly impatient. This was no time for one of Carl’s asinine pranks. They were so close to real success … why would Carl pick this moment to act like a jackass? He called down to Carl but the only answer he received was the return of his own voice mocking him in echo. Fear began to rise inside of him but he quelled his apprehension and called out again. After a few minutes that seemed like an eternity he finally heard  a faint response somewhere below  that seemed to be coming from the east side of the glacier.

Luke moved as quickly as he could and he dared across the icy ledge towards the sound of Carl’s voice. His trail ended abruptly at the very edge of the ledge and to his horror, an immense gaping crevice in the glacier’s surface. Looking down he spotted Carl sprawled beneath him caught on a ledge some two hundred feet down.  For an instant, Luke thought it looked as though the mountain held Carl in its ravenous mouth ready to swallow him whole. He also knew  with horrifying certainty that could not be denied that Carl would never survive the ascent of Der Unbesiegbar. From what Luke could make out, Carl’s legs were twisted askew beneath him and he appeared to be semi-conscious.  He would need rescue and even that was dangerous despite the fact that they would be descending the mountain.

Above Luke a gleaming tower of ice sparkled intensely. It was the summit. It was so very close. So close! He quickly tried to estimate how long it would take him to finish the ascent  - maybe two or three hours? He COULD do this and then come back and rescue Carl then descend the mountain in triumph. He would be the conqueror. He would be a hero. It would be the greatest moment of his meaningless life. Suddenly,  his vision of glory was interrupted by a faint cry from Carl. NO! He could not leave Carl alone in the icy grip of the mountain! He must save his friend…

Resolved for rescue, Luke looked around for something to fasten the rope but there was nothing. In desperation, Luke tied the rope around his shoulders and tossed the other end to Carl.

“Carl! The rope! Try to tie the rope around your waist and I’ll pull you up! Can you hear me Carl? Tie the rope around your waist!”

From below came a weak response. Smiling and relieved, Luke dug his boots into the snow and ice waiting for a tug – the signal to pull Carl up. No signal manifested.

“Carl are you ready? Tug the rope!”

Luke braced himself for a signal but instead came a violent jerk on Carl’s end of the line. The wrench that followed loosened Luke’s boots from their hold and he was dragged quickly along the ice. Panicking, Luke struggled frantically to regain a foothold but there was none. He was being dragged unmercifully towards the edge of the crevice! When he reached the edge and slipped over he managed to grip the ledge with his hand. Fumbling against time he tried in vain to pull himself back onto the ledge but it was all for nought.

Then it was over.

 Luke plunged over the icy edge and toppled like a rag doll into the cold blue eternity of the mountain. And then he was gone. Left to a space in between time never to be found.

Two hundred feet below, Carl stood up and took his ice axe out of his pack. Grinning triumphantly, he hoisted himself out of the crevice and began to work his way to the tower of ice at the summit.

The mountain had its sacrifice.

“What have YOU done on your way to the summit?”