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Just fixed a broken ice axe handle with duct tape and hope
It was the kind of cold where your breath freezes in your throat before it even leaves your mouth. I was halfway up a frozen waterfall, gloveless, when the handle cracked like a dry twig. No time for panicâjust fumbled through my pack, found the tape, and wrapped it like I was binding a wound. Itâs not pretty, but it held. Now itâs more of a metaphor than a tool: taped together, barely functional, but still doing the job. The mountain doesnât care how you show upâonly that you do.
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