"Check your harness." Professor Carter adjusted the nylon rope until it stretched at its length, Jackie and I stumbling to check whether our rope had tightened to the optimal strength. Don't be fooled by the softness, this stuff is stronger than steel. Might be cut down with scissors, but this rope is the stuff that saved Edmund Hillary's life, and dancers used this to tie their hair back. Metal is overrated.

"Check your harness," he said again. When Carter felt the need to repeat something, it had to be a serious, Everest-level business we were about to get into. I started to question what terns would even be doing up there.

"Are you both ready?" He asked, tightening the strap on his pack.

"I came to do this," Jackie said, hopping on an ice block using her axe as leverage.

I nodded through cold mist, following Jackie's trail. Though physical labor easily exhausted me the image of the terns on the mountain rejuvenated my senses, and as soon as they were about to flicker off I heaved a heaping handful of raisin granola I stuffed into my pocket before Jackie zipped up the fire chocolate.

We trekked for hours with occasional two-minute breaks. Although Carter was the oldest and could complain of an aching back without being judged, he urged us to keep going. And yes, he did pull the good old, "I'm older than you and I need no breaks, so get going."

Eventually we came to the point where we took breaks every yard, and Carter couldn't stop barking at us. So he resorted to taking out the equipment and pretending to take the temperature for the experiments or whatever, though we didn't have to do them at such a time. Jackie started complaining of a throbbing headache, and Carter barked at her for not taking her altitude sickness pills. She explained it wasn't altitude sickness, that it was her caffeine addiction, and there wasn't anything to worry about. Carter however, didn't believe a thing that came out of her mouth, and led us down the southern facing wall.