Sunday, June 28, 2009

The climber of Chengdu

The Atlas of Curiosities: Part 15

The time came that we were high on a mountain in China’s Szechaun Province, a place far away from the places we knew, in a time that seemed far away from any time we were familiar with.  It was morning, and the light that was streaming down onto the peaks was white, unlike any we had ever seen.

As the hillside turned grey, scrambling footsteps were heard, and a porter was seen coming down off the high rocks.

Running towards us, he sent a cascade of rocks from beneath his feet, and his shadow moved peacefully over the slope, though his own form was tossed about by his motion.  When he arrived, he was breathless: “He is gone! He is gone!” he gasped.

We were disturbed by his words, and asked him who it was who had disappeared.  “The mountaineer!” he said.  “He ascended too far!”

Confused, we asked for clarification.  Indeed, it was on this day that a mountaineer was scheduled to climb Mount Gongga, known for its vastness, its solitude, its beauty and its danger.

Signing as best he could, the porter described the ascent.  He and the mountaineer had reached the summit, when a great wind had come up, and blown snow off the peak in a great cloud.  The mountaineer, we understood, had placed his spiked boot upon the pinnacle of Mount Gongga, and, turning back for just an instant, had leaned forward, pushed off, and continued his ascent.

“I was so frightened,” said the porter, “that I could not speak. He walked on the wind.  He walked on nothing.”

Rapidly, we began preparing a rescue party.  Surely the porter had become delusional at such an altitude, and surely the mountaineer was within reach still.

Knowing our thoughts, our host spoke.

“He is not within your reach,” our host said. “But do not be afraid.  Where he has gone, one day you will go.  Where you are, you must remain.  Though what has happened is beyond your comprehension, you must stay for now.”

We looked up at the peak.  Snow blew still from its upper reaches, and fell silently down into the valley below, no doubt becoming rain that would flow to the ocean.

Our thoughts turned to places far away, and we lowered our heads.