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around me. It made me feel small and vulnerable, like Alice
wandering in a nightmare wonderland.
I used the eyes of the sastrugi to navigate, skiing from one to
the next, clambering and falling as I dragged my sledges over
the rough ground I couldn't see. Often I'd have to stop and
twist awkwardly on my skis to haul my sledges by hand or
flick my skis lengthways across an incline, digging my edges
into the snowpack for purchase and side-stepping upwards.
At times I'd stand upright having yanked my sledges over
an unseen formation of snow and had the distinct sensation
of being surrounded by space, as if standing on a narrow
pedestal. I didn't understand the landscape around me, unable
to translate my sensations of the space into a mental image
of what might be concealed in the whiteout. It was confusing
and I didn't have the energy to work it out, I just needed to
keep moving forward. At one point my skis slipped and I fell
heavily onto my sledges. I tried to stand but with my knees and
ankles twisted into awkward angles, freeing myself was going
to take some thought. I lay motionless where I had fallen for
a moment, resisting the urge to burst into tears of frustration.
Drifting snow being blown along the ground by the wind
poured over me and my sledges, small hard particles of ice
gathering in the folds of my jacket and I wondered how long
it would take before it would cover me completely, the drift
building around and over me until I became a part of it.
Wearily I lifted myself onto my elbows and, working slowly,
loosened the binding on each ski to release my feet before
trudging wearily up the remaining incline, using the skis as
walking poles.
Reaching the top I felt the wind blow against my body as I
gazed northward for a second, the cold air freezing the hairs in
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