Climbing down the mountain me and Simon were heading back to base camp.
Everything was going well for me and Simon. We had managed to climb to the top of the Siula Grande and we were on the way back down. “Not a long way to go now” but as I said those words the snow slipped from beneath my feet. I fell and broke my leg. It was the most painful experience I’ve ever faced in my 25 years of climbing.
“I’m OK” but it was as if my words hated me, I slipped and slided over the edge of the precipice. I cannot describe my fear as I fell over the edge. It was not only that, my leg was getting worse. Swinging like a pendulum, I was clutching my leg for warmth. Simon was up there gripping the rope for my life, he looked like he was so worn out, I saw him let go the rope and with one hand, He was going to cut the rope, suddenly I saw a knife appear out of the bag, 5 seconds later I was falling like a dive, towards some ice. CRASH!!!! I hit the ice. I was in the void…..