“You’ve had a busy and exciting day. You should rest.”
Megs cleaned up while Mitch took pain meds, then she helped him get settled, propping up the pillows to support his neck and head. “Do you want me to turn out the light and let you sleep?”
“No. I … wan… want you… to… r-read.” He pointed to his journal.
“Okay.” She changed into her pajamas, made them each a cup of herbal tea, and sat down beside him with the journal. “You bookmarked a spot. Is that what you want me to read?”
“Yeah.”
“You’re not sick of the sound of my voice?”
He chuckled at that ridiculous idea. “N-never.”
She opened the journal. “Oh, wow. Right. Okay.”
The entry he’d marked was the day she’d shattered gender stereotypes and enshrined herself as one of the greatest climbers of all time by becoming the first person to free climb The Nose on El Capitan. For a moment, the world had stood in awe of her. From that day forward, the woman he loved had ceased being just another celebrity rock climber and had become a legend.
She began to read.
Chapter 22
June 10, 1993
Mitch hikedwith Megs toward the base of El Cap in the pre-dawn dark, wondering whether the two of them ought to be committed. Megs said she needed a challenge, but this was more than that. What they were about to attempt was insane.
No one had free climbed The Nose, and Megs was determined to be the first.
He and Megs had spent the past two months preparing, reading everything they could find about the route, going over every one of more than thirty pitches, looking for ways to outsmart the rock, analyzing their past climbs. They had climbed until their fingers bled, pushing themselves to peak fitness. They had even calculated calories and how much water they would need to drink. Megs believed they could do it, and, after working through every detail, Mitch was crazy enough to agree.
Gridwall caught up to them, Accardo, Baker, Cook, and the others jogging behind him. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Just leave it, man.”
Mitch had said the same thing to Megs last month. They’d gotten into a huge fight when he’d tried to explain the concept of survivor guilt.
Gridwall wasn’t giving up. “We lost Calder. We can’t lose you, too.”
Megs stopped, turned to face Gridwall. “You’re not going to lose us. We’re going to climb clean, and we’re going to stay safe. If we get in over our heads, we’ll bail.”
Gridwall didn’t look convinced. “You should at least be prepared to bivouac with extra food and water.”
But Megs was done talking and had moved on.
Mitch understood Gridwall’s misgivings. He and Megs had only a day’s worth of food and water packed. If they got stuck up there, they were going to get hungry and thirsty fast.
“All right, then.” Gridwall stopped. “If I can’t talk you out of it, I’m going to hike up to the summit of El Cap. I’ll have food and water and a first aid kit waiting for you when you top out. We’ll set someone in the Meadow with binoculars to watch your progress.”
“Sounds good.” Mitch followed Megs.
Gridwall shared his plans with the other dirtbags, and they all turned and started back toward camp.
Twenty minutes later, Mitch stood with Megs at the base of The Nose. Mitch looked up, three thousand feet of stone towering above them. That wall would either make them—or break them.
The plan was for Megs to lead all of the pitches, with Mitch cleaning their gear from the route as he moved. When Megs reached the end of a pitch, she would belay him, and he would return the equipment. If she got stuck, she would wait for him.
They geared up—harnesses, rope, racks—and then it was time to go.
Mitch took up the slack, a nervous knot in his belly. “Belay on.”
