Tribewanted: Vorovoro

So there I was, alone and clipped to an ice steak half way up a near vertical ice face on Yannapacha. The early morning sun had given way to cloud and the wind brought temperatures close to freezing. As I stared face first into the ice, I thought to myself how the hell did I ever end up here?

It was a million miles away from where the mountaineering seed had initially been sown. The previous October I had been enjoying a break in Sardinia. It was whilst sitting on the beach in the sun reading Joe Simpson’s “Touching …