Transiting the meridian circle

It was almost dawn break when we reached the staggering rocks haunting our way through the uncompromising night. Harsh winds of chill challenged us as we attempted Toubkal, Morocco’s and North Africa’s highest peak. It was only four of us now as the rest surrendered to the hardships of the hike, especially that we have been warned that moving on there will be no trail and it was us against the innate mountains at an altitude that made us grasp for oxygen.
It was while climbing those rocks when I realized I didn’t have my hiking boots on. And splash, I stepped into icy water, soaking my shoes and socks. Ibrahim, our Amazigh mountain guide, decided that both of us will return to the shelter (thankfully close) so I would change while the rest will continue with Hassan our other guide.
Upon reaching the shelter, I hurriedly got out my hiking shoes. Ibrahim got a small wooden chair and asked me to sit. Surprised as I was expecting this to be as quick as possible, I sat. He knelt down and helped me put on my socks, tied my boots and adjusted my tights in them. Touched by this mountain’s man care, I stood up to go.
We descendent back into the silent night.
He fleeted and I strived to catch him but he was oblivious to my pace. I felt slow and incompetent and was relieved when I saw three moon like circles of light that must be their head lights. “Wow, that was fast!” they exclaimed and I wondered if that explained Ibrahim’s indifferent sprinting pace.
The merciless cold, lack of oxygen and sleep, and consuming fatigue made every step a crusade. We battled the demons urging us to surrender. One moment telling ourselves we can do it and the other questioning if the wise thing is to go back for how long we can endure. There was slippery ice all over that Randa and I slipped on and almost fell of the edge of the mountains several times. I looked down at the boundless slope beneath us and muted the voices that asked what if?
I wish I could tell you that I made it to the summit, but after a while Randa and I admitted that we can’t go on. We wished the subsisting two good luck and dismounted back. Do we regret it? We talked about it later and neither of us did. We realized that we didn’t quit but have let go after we have surpassed our limits. But the story doesn’t end here, Toubkal was my first trek but not my last. Ever since, mountains seem to magnetize me and I keep conquering one summit after the other; this year, it’s going to be Kilimanjaro, Africa’s highest peak.