It continues from an exciting summit day posted here.
It was cold. Even inside the tent. I did not even dare to pop out of my warm sleeping bag. But when you got to pee, you got to pee. I hurriedly unzipped the tent. The blast of cold air that hit my face was colder than a night at the Tundra. Hyperbole, maybe, but it certainly felt that way. I zipped it back up and retreated into my sleeping bag. It would have to wait.
An hour later, it was a point of no return. I had to get out of the tent. Having done what was needed to be done, it was when it first hit me. The ground was full of ice. Apparently, it had rained last night and the cold froze it over, covering the grass with a layer of white; and the back of the tent as well. I could have gone back into the tent, but I did not want to miss one of my last sunrises in the mountains.