‘ ‘ ‘  Allen Longman couldn’™t sleep. An excitement was creeping, creeping through him. He knew that this disturbance would taunt and haunt him until he overcame doubts and begin the planning of this, his next adventure.
‘ ‘ ‘  A mountain of a man, single and as tough as they come, he always traveled as a loner even though this obsession placed him in many a precarious spot. Many a time a spectacular photograph, a new untried peak or cliff would bring on this inner taunting voice. Mountains excited him as a new toy would a child.’  His blood raced and then that inner voice’  begin its goading . .’  goading.
‘ ‘ ‘  This time the source was an anomaly ‘“ an article that appeared in ‘œThe Mountaineer’.’  A tale supposedly from an ancient Napali of a mountain on the border to Tibet. Not a particular daunting challenge for any climber, it had remained one of the many heights left to the winds, weather and wild-life. Yet the teller had said something that had stirred the imagination of the writer and finally, Allen.’  The legend came from many generations back, before even the name Napal had been given to the area. An outcome of this forbade any member of these mountain people to set foot upon this’  mountain’™s slopes. The ruling from the ancients sprang from reports of the many who had attempted the climb and had never been seen again. They concluded that the mountain was’  home to a God who took as sacrifice of any who set foot upon It thus becoming sacred. It was named ‘œThe Forbidden One.’
‘ ‘ ‘  This became a tease for Allen who felt trapped in his desire for another adventure as he had happened so many times before in his quests.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œMust you always try crazy things, Allen?’, you and nobody else knows what you’™re in for. It’™s like a jump into an’  abyss!’
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œJust another calling, Lenny, like those wonderful climbs I’™ve had before. Going it alone, I’™ve always had a great feeling that you’™re somehow with me when I climb.’  Just knowing you’™re there at the end of the line gives me a comforting feeling.’  You can always call a chopper or something. I’™ve made emergency arrangements in Katmandu. It’™ll be ok!.’
‘ ‘ ‘  Allen thought back to the few short words he had exchanged with his friend in planning the climb.
‘ ‘ ‘  Icy slopes, glaciers, ravines Allen knew would make it as tough as anything he had done before in spite of its ‘œunworthiness’ to be labeled a challenge for mountaineers.
‘ ‘ ‘  A month on and Allen, in Napal was examining the slopes of the not very impressive mountain from Thor, a tiny Nepalese village at its base. Light-weight ropes, grappling irons, crampons, food-concentrate and drink for six days and a small tent made up a pack that only a man such as he could carry. Not knowing what he would come up against, Allen had taken very special care in the choice of his equipment. One piece vital was a cell-phone with a small hand-worked dynamo charger. This was his one communication with office, friends of his mountaineering club in Christchurch and, of course, his good friend, Lenny.
‘ ‘ ‘  From the moment of arrival in Napal, Allen had been completely tight-lipped about his quest fearing they would try to prevent him going to the slopes ‘“perhaps even by force.’  As far as they were concerned he was there to follow a river to its high mountain source.
‘ ‘ ‘  He set off the very next morning in high spirits, on a trail up the course of the river with some curiosity-driven young children following some distance behind. Allen was much relieved when these returned to their village after some three hours of’  steady, fast walking.
‘ ‘ ‘  Thor, being at an elevation of twelve thousand feet, there remained only some seven thousand five hundred to his goal. He felt he could do it comfortably in two days. It being high summer, except for a brisk wind from the West, Allen felt extremely lucky having reasonably clear skies.
‘ ‘ ‘  A few miles on, and making sure that no youngster was following surreptitiously, he turned abruptly and began an ascent over a ridge toward the slopes of the Forbidden Mountain.’  The going was rough but he took it with strides that knew the ways of the mountains.’  By noon he had reached an elevation of a little over sixteen thousand feet and from the ice-free valley of Thor had been traveling up a narrow rift of soft snow and ice. He had chosen this route and not followed the glassier knowing only too well their traps, like snow-covered crevasses.
‘ ‘ ‘  Being midday and warmer, the wind strengthened and Allen’™s sweat formed small icicles on his short beard and mustache around his mouth. He decide on a midday break. Knowing that evening was just settling in to New Zealand, he removed his phone from an inside breast pocket of his jacket and sought his friend.
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œLenny? That you?’  I’™m halfway up ‘“ so glad – everything going like clockwork. The going is pretty rough but manageable. Be ready for a call tomorrow afternoon.’
‘ ‘ ‘  A man of few words he shut the phone, glad that all was going as well as he had planned, Allen pitched his one-man cub-tent in the lee of a great outcrop of rock in high expectation for the morrow.
‘ ‘ ‘  His first peek from the small tent’™s opening at the first crack of dawn was with relief. He saw no change in the weather from yesterday. He determined to cover as much ground as possible. The air was so much thinner now, not enough to require oxygen but sufficiently oxygen starved to make the going very difficult.
‘ ‘ ‘  He set off again at as brisk a pace he allowed himself so as not to cause mountain sickness. He had not given himself a chance to become acclimatized to the rarified air. So far, too, he had felt no misgivings about the climb but now, quite suddenly turned his thoughts to the’  tales told of the disappearance of climbers.’  He pondered whether freak winds, not infrequent in certain regions of the Himalayas, could account for the disappearance of a body. Ultimately, he rejected all such thoughts, overcoming the occasional icy barrier with a skill that was second nature to him.
‘ ‘ ‘  Breathing heavily and moving slowly he came to what he understood would be a final barrier -‘  a granite wall some 45 to 50 feet high stretching West and East with no break as far as he could see. There was no other way than up!
‘ ‘ ‘  Placing his pack at the foot of the cliff face, Allen strapped on his harness and began clamping onto his fleece-lined stout leather jacket the equipment needed for the climb: carabiners, nuts, and other climber’™s artifacts all of hard but lightweight metal. Two stout rope lengths held by clamps on his body harness completed his equipment for the scaling of the rock face. He attached to himself only as much equipment as he felt would be absolutely necessary for the climb. This, normally fairly simple scaling for a practiced man was made more difficult due to the rarefied air.
‘ ‘ ‘  Two and a half hours later, however, with the sun beginning to sink in a blaze of gold, Allen reached his goal.
‘ ‘ ‘  He threw his body onto the mountain top.’  This turned out to be a narrow ridge appearing to reach unchanged around an enormous crater which he estimated at some seven to ten miles in diameter. His chest resting on this narrow ledge, not more than a foot and a half wide, it was the sight before him that so startled him he remained staring in disbelief on his chest instead of straddling the ledge.
‘ ‘ ‘  The cliff on the other side of that which he had scaled was identically perpendicular for some fifty feet then began sloping away becoming for all the world like a giant bowl. A geological freak of nature as far as he was concerned, it was the lower reaches and base that made his eyes goggle.’  A good two thousand feet below, a heavenly blue lake was surrounded by a tropical forest. This green jungle reached almost half way up the sides of the crater and gave to the scene an air of something out of a fantastic movie. ‘œA sight fantasy,’ ‘“ the words passed through his mind. Then more pragmatically; ‘œProbably hot magma . . .’  under . . . the heat filtering up’ ‘  . . ?’
‘ ‘ ‘  ‘œNow I can understand the prohibition handed down. If I was a God,’ he thought,’  ‘œI’™d like no place better . . .!’
‘ ‘ ‘  But this thought he broke off with a sudden urgent desire to share this amazing discovery with Lenny. He threw one leg over the ridge to straddle it, then reached for his phone. To his extreme chagrin, the weight of his torso on the jacket’™s inner pocket had damaged the hinge.’  In this new anguish, he struggled with it determined to reach his friend.
‘ ‘ ‘  Without warning there came a loud snap and a large section of the rock on which he was sitting moved, leaning heavily toward the crater at a sharp angle. Allen kept perfectly still hoping against hope that the slab would hold. But it jerked again sliding even more precariously towards the crater. Allen froze endeavoring mentally to prevent any further movement.’  He tried praying – every ruse he knew to keep from slipping but found himself and the rock slowly moving . ‘œThis is going to fall ‘“ and take me with it!’.’  It was Allen’™s last thought.
‘ ‘ ‘  Then the great section of granite with Allen helplessly upon it began slipping inexorably towards the gaping mouth of the most beautiful geological wonder he had ever seen.