 My teammates pull me up to the lip of the crevasse. I repeatedly plunge the pick of my ice axe into the snow and haul myself out, never before as grateful for being on top of a glacier. I stand and gaze up at the mountain to the west, behind which the sun has just set. Snow plumes stream off one of its ridges, turned into ruddy red ribbons by the setting snow. Snow flakes flicker as they float into space.