Walking up the mountain, a cloudless sky overhead, it was the perfect day. As my climbing party and I reached the bottom of Mount Cheguva, the highest mountain in the world, I gazed up above and stared in amazement at the snow-capped peaks, raging waterfalls and steep rocky paths. It seemed that one man alone could not conquer this mammoth creation of Mother Nature. I realized by the end of the day I could be in heaven, among many unknown species and uncharted valleys. At 10 miles high, from this close, my reason for living seemed almost too big. Almost.It was pointed out to me, however, that the pitch-black clouds only known in this part of the world were on the horizon and a strong wind was beginning to howl in our ears. Oblivious to the many forceful warnings shouted in my direction, I began my long climb. Tiny snowflakes began to create a light powder, making the floor slippery and sticky with mud.After traversing the moderately steep slopes near the bottom, I realized I hadn't looked at my watch in hours. The now heavy falling of snow began to lash my face and howling wind driving against me. I glanced at my watch and realized that I had been climbing for hours. It was late and in conditions like these night could mean death. I found a small overhang with cover from the howling wind and decided to lay my camp for the night as there was no way to turn back now, not in this weather.Having sat down to rest, I suddenly realized how hungry I was. To my astonishment and horror, I discovered three gaping slash marks in the back of my bag, seemingly those from some sort of animal that lived in this place. I could feel the color draining from my cheeks. I got out my food, although there was no hope of lighting a fire in this terrible weather. While I was gnawing at some of my now soggy turkey, I tried to remember whether I had seen any animals. Not a single thing all the time, which was very unusual considering I was on one of the best hab...