Round two with the pack was what I should of done initially. Put the left through first and squat it up with the aid of the tree. It was starting to get dark but the key would be to go slow. I had a hell of a time putting the crampons on but it was worth it. Now, my left hand was 100% disabled. I sh*t you not, It just wouldn't move. I threw a glove on it backwards to hopefully prevent muscle memory from attempting a grab on anything. The hike about 100 meters back up was a glute burner but the crampons held their place, even on the small rock face.
Once across I opted to side hill instead of go a bit hire and find my old tracks, lazy. It was a poor choice cause I was now operating by headlamp but I gave'r all. It was damn scary being alone and navigating the cliffs amongst scree but I kept on telling myself. It's already dark, just take your time and worst case Ontario follow your tracks back up. It was well over an hour but sure was it relief reaching the far timber and cutting my up tracks. The crampons didn't allow any slipping but imagine your body weight plus an extra 50% of it trying to descend a super steep slope with no give, relying solely on your knees and quad muscles. Quad tendons were sore for two days lol.
Minus the few slides and sharp pain in the hand all was well, slow but well. That is until the right crampon caught a stick and sent me ass over tea kettle. Thankfully my face stopped the fall with a snow covered rock. Once I managed to get up I could taste blood and feel it dripping down my chin. I didn't care, nor did it hurt at that point. I was so desensitized to reality knowing the only objective was to get off this hill. Eventually I could see road and oh that truck. Damn did it look good, even for a Ford boy was that a spirit lifter. The down had taken almost double of the up time now being around 8pm.