Silvio and I treated the peak fairly casually, leaving Moraine Camp around 4 a.m., and got spanked as a result. I soloed the route to about 50 meters from what looked to be the summit, where upon I got a bit sketched climbing overhanging snow waves and nervous treading multiple fracture lines on the supposedly safe side of the ridge. On more than one occasion my tools punched through the cornice to open a window on the valley thousands of feet below, while my boots kicked into nothingness on the other side. We downclimbed half the route and then rapped through rock bands until we hit a ledge at 5,600 meters without any anchors just as the sun was going down. We spent 12 hours in an open bivy waiting for dawn. In the morning we were able to climb our way to some blocks that offered anchors and we were on the glacier in a single rap.
"So I was sitting in my cubicle today, and I realized, ever since I started working, every single day of my life has been worse than the day before it. So that means that every single day that you see me, that's on the worst day of my life."
--Peter Gibbons (Office Space)