The Climb

Looking far, far below the high camp she was presently stationed at, Katie could see green trees. It made her envious, surrounded by unforgiving ice and random storms.

And this was the nice time to climb the mountain, her guide, Devonte had emphasized many times. She trailed right behind him, as the strong Black buck forged a path through fresh snow.

She inhaled oxygen from her mask to have enough energy to talk to her guide for a moment. She'd underestimated how little oxygen was up at this altitude. Foolish, in hindsight.

"So how long you been in Alaska?" she asked. She was going to do a story. Maybe the rare unicorn of a Black guide in Alaska would get some views.

"Bout eighteen years, I reckon," Devonte said. He wasn't using oxygen. He saved that for emergencies. He paused for a minute to collect himself, then trudged forward some more. "I'm originally from the South."

"Me too," Katie said, smiling. He wasn't much of a cheery person, she'd noted. But his wiry body was not unattractive. "What brought you here?"

"That ..." Devonte pondered, pausing, "...is personal. I'd have to know you a hell of a lot better and share a hell of a lot of the good stuff with you to tell you that. Let's take five, get some hot drink into us. We've got two days before we summit."