He looked at his watch. 10:38.
Running some of Blake’s verses through his mind to calm himself, he went
to the elevator. 31 Well-made boots are essential to a serious climber.
They should be five to seven inches high, crafted from the best grade of
leather, lined with leather, preferably hand-sewn, with foam-padded
tongues. Most important of all, the soles should be hard and stiff,
with tough lugs made of Vibram.
Graham was wearing just such a pair of boots. They were a perfect fit,
more like gloves than footwear. Although putting them on and lacing
them up brought him closer to the act that he regarded with terror, he
found the boots strangely comforting, reassuring. His familiarity with
them, with climbing gear in general, seemed like a touchstone against
which he could test for the old Graham Harris, test for a trace of the
courage he’d once shown.
Both pairs of boots in the pile of equipment were four sizes too large
for Connie. She couldn’t wear either of them. If she stuffed paper
into the toes and along the ” sides, she would feel as if she were
wearing blocks of concrete; and she would surely misstep at some crucial
point in the climb.
Fortunately, they found a pair of klettershoes that fitted well enough.
The klettershoe-an anglicization of Kletterschuh, German for “climbing
shoe”-was lighter, tighter, more flexible, and not so high as standard
climbing boots. The sole was of rubber, and the welt did not protrude,
making it possible for the wearer to gain toeholds on even the narrowest
ledges.
Although they would have to serve for want of something better, the
klettershoes weren’t suited for the climb that lay ahead. Because they
were made of suede and were not waterproof, they should be used’only in
the fairest weather, never in a snowstorm.
To protect her feet from becoming wet and from the inevitable frostbite,
Connie wore both socks and plastic binding. The socks were thick, gray,
woolen; they came to mid-calf. The plastic was ordinarily used to seal
up the dry food that a climber carried in his rucksack.
Graham had wrapped her feet in two sheets of plastic, securing the
waterproof material at her ankles with rubber bands.
They were both wearing heavy, bright red nylon parkas with hoods that
tied under the chin. Between the outer nylon surface and the inner
nylon lining, his jacket was fitted with man-made insulation, sufficient
for autumn climbing but not for the cold that awaited them tonight. Her
parka was much better-although he hadn’t explained that to her for fear
she would insist that he wear it-because it was insulated with one him
EL dred percent goose down. That made it the warmest garment, for its
size and weight, that she could have worn.
over the parka, each of them was wearing a Klettergiirtel, a climbing
harness, for protection in the event of a fall. This piece of equipment
was a great improvement over the waistband that climbers had once used,
for in a fall the band sometimes jerked so tight that it damaged the
heart and lungs. The simple leather harness distributed the pressure
over the entire body trunk, reducing the risk of a severe injury and
virtually guaranteeing the climber that he would not turn upside down.
Connie was impressed by the Klettergiirtel. As he strapped her into it,
she said, “It’s perfect insurance, isn’t it? Even if you fall, it
brings you up short.”
Of course, if she didn’t just slip or misplace her foot, if instead the
rope broke, and if she was on a single line, the harness would not stop
her fall. However, Connie didn’t have to worry about that, for he was
taking extraordinary safety measures with her: she would be going down
on two independent lines. In addition to the main rope, he intended to
fix her to a second which he would belay all the way to the street.
He would not be so well looked after as she was. There was no one to
belay him. He would be descending last-on a single line.
He didn’t explain that to her. When she got outside, the less she had
to worry about, the better her chances were of coming out of this alive.