Namasté, Chomo! Stefan is calling! Where the hell have you been?
Also Namasté! I was taking a snow shower. Wonderful, this monsoon!
Did you really need a shower after this spring season?
Joker, are you living behind the moon?
Almost. But from here it looked like you had a better press than in 2012 – perhaps because of the 60-year anniversary of the first ascent.
I heard something different. I just say: The brawl in Camp 2.
True, that didn’t go down well. What did really happen there?
You have to ask the participants. Only this: There are hooligans on the mountain too. And who is the victim once again? I am.
You? Why?
First, I am once again held responsible for an excess to which I haven’t even contributed a falling rock. And secondly, some more top climbers will turn their back on me. For my future this means: No delicacies, just fast food – if you know what I mean.
But after all, this spring you were able to welcome an 80-year-old climber on the summit.
Very funny! I haven’t laughed like this in a long time. Did I have an alternative? It would have been easy for me to blow him away. But in this case everybody would have said: Look, the killer mountain! Now Chomo’s got it in for seniors.
You were not even tempted?
Yoga.
Yoga?
I knotted my avalanche-prone slopes, held my breath and remained motionless until the old man was up. Afterwards I got a cramp.
In the Hillary-calf or the South buttocks?
(He is laughing) Good joke! But no, I had a crying fit. And I swore something to myself.
You make me curious.
If the first group of seniors with walkers reaches the South Col, I turn myself into a volcano.
Impossible.
I am already in negotiations with the climate change officer of the United Anger Mountains.
You are silly.
Silly, my friend, is if someone plans to fix a ladder at the Hillary Step.
What’s so silly with it?
That they don’t build a lift. Finally, we are living in the 21st century, aren’t we? Even mountains must be barrier-free.
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