The air temperature is -20 degrees. I wiggle my fingers but they’re still freezing cold. Old frostnip injuries never let you forget. I blame Everest for that.
“You set, buddy?” cameraman Simon asks me, smiling. His rig is all prepped and ready.
I smile back. I am unusually nervous. Something doesn’t quite feel right. But I don’t listen to the inner voice. It is time to go to work.
The crew tell me that the crisp northern Canadian Rockies look spectacular this morning. I don’t really notice.
It is time to get into my secret space. A rare part of me that is focused, clear, brave, precise. It is the part of me I know the best but visit the least.
I only like to use it sparingly. Like now.
Beneath me is 300 feet of steep snow and ice. Steep but manageable.
I have done this sort of fast descent many, many times. Never be complacent, the voice says. The voice is always right.
