I was starting to get beat down by the exhaustion and wind, but Shannon was very encouraging and kept reminding me to take it a few rocks at a time. We eventually reached the top of the Keyhole, and we were greeted with the two-thousand foot cliff behind it, 70 mph winds over the lip, and the Ledges off to the left - the series of interconnected rock ledges that traverse the west face of the mountain over a stunning drop. It's like a real-life Mario Bros. level.

Shouting to be heard through the wind, we pushed around the corner to where the winds were only 40 mph again. Unfortunately, now the mountain blocked the sun, so we were cold, no question about it. On the other hand, I'd now made it further than ever before, and I was invigorated by the Ledges. This was my whole reason to climb Longs Peak - I wanted to see the huge drops and dramatic rocks.

When I sustained exertion for too long, I could feel my stomach start to knot up, and I knew from past experience that this was the beginning of altitude sickness for me. I stopped, breathed deeply, and the feeling would pass. I could keep my body under control and warm if I was careful and paying attention. I couldn't eat anymore, unfortunately, because of the altitude, so I'd had my last food at the Boulderfield.

The Ledges went on for so long that I got disoriented and thought maybe we were almost to the summit. Hah! As we reached the Trough, the next mega-section, I asked someone coming down if that was the Homestretch, the last section. He laughed. "Oh, no..."

The Trough is a climbing section that goes up from 13,200 feet to 14,000 feet. If it were down at a nice altitude like 7000 feet, it would be a thoroughly satisfying adventure all by itself. It would also help if it wasn't constantly windy and freezing cold, and if a person hadn't already been hiking for 6 hours at high altitude. Ice coated many of the rocks - even in August - and climbers above would knock off rocks that would come bouncing down the canyon. My hands alternating between painful and numb, even through my gloves.

We spent a bit less than an hour making gradual tortuous progress up the Trough. Everybody was slow here, grinding along and trying to keep our spirits up. The views were amazing, when you could remember to enjoy them, as we could see over all nearby peaks and far into the distance. The drop below the Trough is thousands of feet to lakes and snow fields. Still, in truth, it was hard to enjoy because my body hurt so much.

Near the top of the Trough is the chockstone, as they call it, which is a big boulder that seals the canyon of the Trough. You have to climb up the stone, and although it's only a few feet, it was real climbing with handholds and care. Again what would be trivial for in good times, and fun in pleasant times, required some real thought and assessment up here. One group watching me climb it decided to turn around at that point. Shannon followed me up, and we were both amazed to look back down over what we had ascended. Amazed at our abilities, and scared at the notion of having to climb back down it later.

Shannon pulled ahead while I adjusted my gear, but the Trough seemed to terminate in empty space. The backside of the Trough is a cliff of at least 2000 feet, maybe 3000 feet. She lurched to a stop when her eyes fell on the vast nothing, and I could see the stunned expression of surprise on her face. "Where do we go from here?" she called back to me in the ever-present wind.

"Turn left," I shouted back, directing her to the beginning of the Narrows, which are basically a stone catwalk along the super-high cliff. I climbed up to her location and we began the trek across the Narrows.

The Narrows are traversing the face of the cliff, even going downhill slightly, but they are just wide enough for one person to walk comfortably. Anyone passing someone has to slow down, use handholds, and snuggle by. The wind was still pounding us at 40 mph with 60+ mph gusts, so you had to keep your knees bent or a sudden gust would knock you down. Luckily, it mostly threw you against the rock face and not off into the void. I lost my balance a couple of times, and one occasion got such vertigo that I toppled over. I witnessed another guy have the same thing and fall right off the mountain… luckily only 5 below to another ledge, where he landed on his pack and seemed okay.

I had gotten distracted from my mantra practice, but I remembered now and sat down to do a few more, invoking protection and inner judgment. This is the part where you have to make hard decisions or face hard consequences.

The wind got even more ridiculous on the Narrows. Although most of it is a catwalk, in one place you have to climb through a whole about 5 feet up. It seemed like the entire atmosphere was being crammed through that hole. As I tried to climb against it, the air jetting through at me was moving at least 100 mph. It was so intense that it felt liquid, like being plunged into an icy stream, and I could barely pull myself against it. I managed a rather undignified slither over the rock upstream.

Shannon started the climb and got three-quarters up but couldn’t push against the wind anymore. I braced myself with three limbs, wedged in between rocks, and reached out a hand. She grabbed it, we both pulled, and she moved up through the slipstream too fast, slamming her head into the ceiling of rock overhead. She was knocked silly for a moment and dropped back down, but we couldn’t because of the wind noise. After she regained orientation, I helped pull her through and we checked her head – no bleeding, but a bruise to the spirit... (to be concluded in part 3)