Drift and Die

[Louvel von der Marck]

November 2013
Reading of Last Will and Testament of Otto von der Marck

The ticking of the second hand is audible. It took long enough to figure out but there it was loud and clear and it was becoming just as difficult to ignore as the constricting power tie around his neck. Louvel von der Marck hated suits. He felt trapped the more he thought about it. How his father lived the majority of his life in them made no sense. He looked down at what was on his body and realized that there were likely fifty or more just like it in storage that he could fit into if he really wanted to back at the house. The roll of a right wrist revealed the pricey gold and diamond encrusted watch that came from some client he never personally met, but his father had. Now it was like a shackle on his wrist that was a reminder that he didn’t have enough connections. Certainly not the ones that could buy him the gifts that his father had sent to him in such amounts that they were stacked in a office closet and many still unopened.

A roll of the barely thirty-something shoulders shifted the italian business jacket back while the length of his legs stretched to let the muscles beneath the custom tailored slacks loose. The barely worn heels of the black leather shoes tugged at the carpet beneath his size elevens until they found their movement blocked by the seat beneath him. It was like trying to get comfortable on a wooden stadium seat which he wished he was in. He wouldn’t be stuck in the get up he had on if he was. His hands slid down the arms that kept him in place and gave each a curious squeeze. It definitely needed more padding under the charcoal upholstery. His grip released and he made a mental note. He needed to get some new furniture. Before he could pull that off he needed to get the hell out of the office he was sitting in.

A decision was made while his head leaned back so he could check out the ceiling. If another five minutes passed by and the one responsible for conducting the reading of the will didn’t appear he would be out. Plain and simple. It would be a sign. No loss, no gain. He would be fine if he called it right there. No need to waste his time waiting for the results to slap him the face and leave him feeling like an idiot for hanging around longer than he should. He knew where the money was going. The twenty-two year old jet setting ******** that his father brought into the world with a mistress that outlived his own mother and found far more to his likeness than his own legitimate son...which would be him.

Two more minutes dissolved into the past and he stood up and brushed out the front of his suit. Three minutes short of time being up and he was good as gone. That is when the door finally opened. Taking it all in stride he stuck out his hand in a smooth offering of a business savvy greeting just like his father taught him. Once it was accepted and the grip of his matched the other he was free to take his seat, which he did. A file dropped on the well polished wood that served as a desk for the lawyer behind it. Moss colored eyes set upward as a blonde maned head tilted down. Through his brows he watched and waited while the door behind him opened once again. The ******** didn’t even have the respect to show up on time to stake his share of a claim his father’s money.

Over the next two hours the attorney went over the family history as Lou already knew it. It boiled down to the formality of hearing the final wishes of a man that Louvel felt about as connected to as the fifteen or more next door neighbors that he could remember having while growing up. His father wasn’t the one to teach him to play baseball, to fish or to wear a condom before playing in the backseat. His mother raised him and thankfully that was a blessing. The one next to him was a whole other ball of wax. A glance over to the half sibling sitting in the seat next to him found the male’s fingers flying like he was in the midst of conducting an orchestra via cell phone. A slow lean to the right had his hand tapping the shoulder and getting Heath von der Marck’s attention.

“You care to listen to what the guy has to say?” Lou stretched to reposition his tall body to fold more in favor of the one sitting next to him instead of the one leading the reading across from them.
“I thought we got this settled a while ago?” The communication device disappeared into a suit pocket and the blue eyed, swiss born face finally fixed its attention back at Lou. It was almost like looking in a mirror only seven years back. “I don’t give a **** what role he played for my mother, got me? He was an asshole. We know what his game was and personally I don’t know what your mother or mine ever saw in the asswipe. His money doesn’t buy my ******* attention. Not when he was alive and sure as hell not now since he is dead.” A cold stare down washed over Lou and left no question as to what he was doing.
“Excuse me.” The clearing of a throat was enough to have both set of eyes fall back towards the direction of the desk and the body seated behind it. “Do you guys need a moment? Obviously you two have been through alot and have some issues you may want to discuss?”
“No, we are good. The clown next to me in a dead man’s suit wants to make up for where Daddy Warbucks failed. Just keep on reading so I can know where to to pick up the check and catch my flight back out of here.”
“How about we step outside for five minutes and catch up?” Louvel gave him the same cast of warning from his mossy orbs as he did the last time he suggested it roughly a year prior at his mother's gallery opening. “Missed you, little man.” He winked.
“No thanks. I have seen enough of you right here in this room.” Heath nodded to the lawyer to carry on. Which he did.

At the end of the meeting it was set that Louvel inherited the bulk of the family estate which was the lumber company and the various holdings from his grandfather, Gasto von der Marck, as well as the various companies that his father, Otto, had created in the last thirty years of his life. Most of which they were subsequently informed were no where in the profit margins that the two sitting across from the desk were led to believe while growing up.

“No ******* surprise there.” A smirk landed on Heath’s face. “I knew he was full of ****. I am so glad my mom didn’t waste her money or her husband’s time flying over to hear this. I am out. Send the papers to me will you? Big brother here can clear all debts and we can meet once that is said and done to settle up what is left.”

The door barely closed to the office when Louvel decided the tie had to come off his neck. He tugged it free and tossed it on the seat that his younger sibling had been sitting in. He stretched his neck just enough so that that annoying itching working beneath the collar of the business shirt had time to air out. The small knots of muscle shifted back and forth at his jaw until he couldn’t stand sitting there a minute more. Heath was out of line. Someone had to inform him of it before he took off back to wherever in the world he was living.

“Feel free to wrap it up.” Lou stood up tall and slid his hands into his suit pockets and pulled out his car keys for collateral and placed them on the lawyer's desk. “I will be back in a few to sign the papers.” His hand was on the door opening it when he gave a nod to the direction Heath disappeared and that he was heading while his fingers unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt. “We have a little catching up to do.” With that announcement the door closed. It didn't take long to get catch up to his brother and introduce him to the seating that the cement offered both of them once their fists finished flying.

[Louvel von der Marck]

June 2014
Bukit Peninsula, Bali
Padang Padang Surf Camp

“Anda boleh meletakkan barangan di sana. Dia sedang tidur. Tip adalah di kaunter.”

The voice broke through the sedating, island sounds of the early morning breeze moving over Louvel. He stretched. His bronze skin was like a blister against the white sheets beneath him on the balinese bed. Pink peppered shoulders stirred while wearing the color over the spots where the rays found it easiest to beat down on the seasoned surfer. Eventually he made his way out from under the nearly sheer sheet that covered far too little of his body. The sea of sun bleached hair pulled from the pillows as he sat up and spilled over his shoulders. His eyes peered through the strands that fell forward until a groggy hand brushed the too long length of interference away.

“Bagaimana anda mahu sarapan pagi anda ? Sweet? Pedas?”

While Louvel went through the slow work of rising to stand it left the sheet on the floor and nothing left to the imagination as to what had been covered. The man preparing a platter of fruit and steaming grilled vegetables really had no need to waste energy on guessing. He had spent the better part of three weeks figuring out what Louvel had to offer up on the water and in the sheets. A slow reach over the one who went by the name of Ichi brought him into a subtle but fragrant cloud of off brand soap, coconut, aloe and pineapple. Each was a perfect compliment to the Balinese beach resident he had hooked up with and distinct enough he would have to die to forget it.

The effort of his body pressing leisurely behind the oiled up bermuda short clad hut mate was rewarded with a portion of some melon he had yet to pin down the name of as it rotated and broke down easily behind his lips. He leaned forward so that his hands settled on each side of Ichi and the surface of the counter where the creation of sweet and spicy took place. A brush of his sunburnt nose drifted at the back of the man’s shoulder then retreated as he pushed away from the edge that supported him.

“Both. English please. My brain is still waking up.”

Lou finally approved and licked his fingers free of the sweetness left behind. A little salt was also picked up on as the tip of his thumb pulled from his lips. He took another look over his shoulder while remembering exactly where that came from. His lip dragged through the capture of his teeth before setting it free to speak. He loved the taste of island life every morning he woke to it's taste and warmth.

“So, how long have you been up?”

The toss of shorts his direction had a long arm stretching out to catch them like a frisbee sent his way. So much for breakfast in bed. He stepped into the item and pulled khaki material up only as far as it covered what was waking up with him. He didn’t plan on having them on any longer than he was required. Not while the morning was young and Ichi was around.

“Long enough to do the things you have yet to do.” The small plate was slid in front of him and the weight of the rather petite Ichi sat next to him on the futon sofa on the open balcony overlooking the most desireable surfing beach in the area. “I didn’t know your mother is a museum curator.”
“She was.” Lou offered the square of yellow to the man’s lips then dropped back finger feeding a few strips of white onions into his mouth. He paused chewing realizing he really never mentioned that in any conversations they had. “Why?”
“I was curious.” Dark chocolate eyes dipped down while plucking another sample of his own cooking from the plate. “Can I meet her? I am into art. Went to the university for it actually.”

Louvel was caught off guard to say the very least. He stared at the one he spent an unbelievable three weeks with doing absolutely nothing but surfing, partying and ******* like the world was going to end the day after tomorrow.

“How did you know she was a curator? Hmm?” He licked his fingers and waited for an answer.
“While you were sleeping…” His voice dropped as Lou’s eyes looked over to the small bamboo wardrobe that he stored his minimal belongings in. “I was reading the book that was in there. The one that you keep…”
“The one I keep in there because perhaps I don’t want to have it picked up and read?” Lou peeled his body up from the spot he had been sitting in. He raked his hair back and scratched his stubble covered jaw. “Look, I get you are curious but not sure where this is going. You are looking at what?” He knew this part would suck. It always did when things took a turn for the worst. He certainly considered it a bad sign. “You want to meet my mother? Get into the field, my family or what?”
“Is that a bad thing?”

Ichi was confused about what in the last three weeks he missed. They had been inseparable night and day. The time was perfect and was he a criminal for not wanting it to end or indulging his curiosity as to who Louvel von der Marck was? It was right there within reach.

“Tell me is it?”
“Yes, it is.”

Louvel pulled off the shorts and pulled open the barely attached door of the bamboo furniture that suffered several seasons of weather due to the lack of walls in the roof canopy hut structure. If it rained they felt it in the bed, if the sun was in a fierce mode they hid beneath the sheer fabrics that served island life so well. Nothing was spared from exposure where they had shared lodging. A set of distressed and semi tattered pants that had not seen the light of day since he first arrived slid slowly over his bare hips. He shuffled his weight slowly and once everything was situated with the dip of his hand in and out he fastened the button fly up.

“Why?” Ichi was on the move and ready to pull the moves that Louvel knew all too well. This is the part that he hated.
“Because she is dead and because it won’t work.”

Lou was more patient than most but a few quirks he had. The idea of settling into some sort of semi potential partnership was just not his thing. Not since Martin and he crashed and burned eight months back. Louvel had been there and done it all. He was so ready then. Fully ready looking at rings like a lovestruck idiot and entertained the name sharing that would go with it. His mother was ready to book places to make it happen.

Until Martin decided the New York socialite with fake tits and a daddy that would buy his babygirl anything was far more suited for his success hungry long term picture. All it took was rich *****’s multi-media mogul father handing Martin an offer he couldn’t refuse. It took the man far from the rural Canada they shared and gave him a promotion that pulled him out what they were talking about building. It gave Martin everything Louvel couldn’t and it set him in a penthouse with a high rise corporate office that gave him a six figure salary that would have him king of it all. It was far from the wildlife and its woods, the place Louvel couldn’t be away from for more than six months at a time. Part of Louvel didn’t blame the one he loved. He understood it even if it hit him harder than he expected.

Martin wanted to be where everyone else was at and standing out in a crowd. Lou wanted the opposite. He wanted to hear the earth, feel it in the deepest and most remote regions. It whispered, it sang and it screamed in ways he fully appreciated and understood even if Martin thought he was nuts. He could disappear for days and savor the messages it would deliver. Mara von der Marck introduced him to what the world was about and his place in it. Now that she was brought up to begin with by Ichi he realized something. This was all a sign. It was time to go home. The perfection was tapped out where he was at. The moment, even if it was three weeks long, was over. Now it was time to deliver the news.

“Ichi, we need to talk.”

Yes, they really did. He knew all too well there would be some protest but at least it was only three weeks and not a good year plus he gave the guy to be let down from. By the time the night was covering the island his ticket back to the states was purchased with a very reluctant Ichi dropping him off to meet his chartered flight.

[Louvel von der Marck]

Mt. Everest
Nepal -Do or die
May 1, 2015

Day 1-2 They say seven to nine weeks. I planned for twelve and made some allowances for the unforeseen. Such as falling off a cliff or an avalanche that takes a week for them to dig us out. Always the optimist. The gear and the tickets for the international flight into Kathmandu. I know there is more I need to pick up but this is the basics. I gathered up his as well. Knowing him he would be holding us up doing it at the last minute. Old habits die hard. He claims to have been training for this when he was able to outside Bea’s schedule. We will see. Married life and fatherhood suits him. Martin is willing to call it what it is which is a good thing. I told him otherwise the twelve weeks won’t work. I brought Jacob along just in case. I see him as a buffer willing to tackle the world’s highest peak to do the job. Not quite sure what Martin sees him as. Me? I want to breathe in the air at the top. Not interested in being anchored down anymore to what predictably sinks like a ship’s anchor in rough seas. Meeting Geno, Matt and Sage in Kathmandu. All report they are good to go. This is a dream about to come true.

Day 3 Landed safe and somewhat sound in Kathmandu. Anyone has to be considered semi-crazy to leave behind the comforts and spend a year training to climb the big daddy of all mountains. The city is full of color and textiles. The people literally welcome you with open arms. Can say I would come back even if I wasn’t planning on taking on a the Big E? Yes. Packing up the duffel bags of everyone's gear. The clothing we need for the higher altitudes will be sorted out for the cargo flights that will get us to Lukla. Martin and Jacob seem to have already hit it off and it’s fine by me. I caught up with Bea on skype and have to admit their daughter is adorable. Looks nothing like Martin so that helps. It is all fine by me. Sage made a wager on who gets to the summit first. Let’s see if I collect or deliver.

Look at who I found trying to turn back time? Like leaving the country and a dozen roses was going to change that he cashed me in for New York and a piece of the Mrs. Big Apple. Yeah, this climb is just what I need. He will be lucky if he doesn’t get my boot up his *** sending him back down.

Day 4-5 Took the tour of the city and met with the officials that we had to talk to in order to get the final clearance for the climb. Was a little stressful since one of the asshats wanted to say we may have to wait a week since someone special just landed from France. Martin proved useful when it came down to making the go-ahead happen. No one tells him no...well except me. That is a story for later. Geno snapped this pic. Will be the last time I have a chance to be in shorts. If only the amount we needed to carry was able to fit in that backpack. But it is what we trained for, right? A cross between a mountain goat and pack mule.Sent out last messages to the cousins. The replies were not surprising. Clowns. Will deal with those guys when I return.

Day 6 So our flights got us here safely. Hiked our silly asses through what will be the last fluff trek for quite awhile. Made it to Khumbu and base camp is up ahead from what we are told. It seems like this is the part of the journey that prepares you for the inevitable. Likely gives those not as serious as they originally thought a chance to haul *** back to Kathmandu. I am going to the top.

Day 7-16 So base camp it is. We need a several days here to acclimatize and while we do we hang with the Sherpa families. They are friendly and cook insane dishes. It is all out in the open and reminds you of what this is adventure is really about. Namche is great. 11,400 ft. Hard not to take tons of pictures. Hitting the monastery tomorrow and I guess there is several between Tengboche and Pangboche. Will take some time to adjust in Pheriche- 14,000 ft as well.

Day 17This is the result of being reunited with our gear. Spent most of the day getting our tents organized, making sure nothing was missing. We had to go through several set-up and take down drills. The winds can be enough to send your *** flying so being able to set-up and pull down fast as possible is one way to keep your belongings. It also is crucial to conserve time spent doing it in general. With all the other climbs I did to prepare for this I should be gung-ho but am told that small part that says I am crazy to do it is normal. Shaking it off and doing it. Going to meet some lamas tomorrow if they are up to it. Of course Sage went on a rant about ethical treatment of animals which had zero to do with the lamas were talking about. I hope like hell this isn’t the start of twelve weeks of wanting to leave him behind. I have two boots. One is reserved for Martin...the other is still up for grabs.

Day 18-21Today we had a little ceremony to bless all our asses for a safe journey. It is called a puja. Was cool. Kinda felt something afterwards then the nerves kicked in and I did a little meditation. Think it helped. I kicked it back in gear and so far I haven’t grabbed my bags and asked for a ride back. Hit the first part of icefall this evening. Looks like it is really happening. Martin is already bitching about his feet. We haven’t even started. I never had a bed that was as comfortable as my sleeping bag once I finally had a chance to climb into it. Rest is great when you earn it.

Day 22
At the top of icefall finally. It was no picnic getting here. Already starting to smell and taste the sweat caking on my skin. Each day a new layer forms.It is going to be strong before we are done. Lips are chapped. Windburn is a whole different thing than the type you get on the cycle. Winds are up. Nothing compared to what the guides tell us to be prepared for. Matt has a blister on his right foot that is big enough to give it a name. We suggested it but he gave us the old **** you. More later. My body needs food and sleep.

Day 23-27We did the last couple nights at camp one then camp two. It is like two steps forward then one step back deal. It is all about getting the right conditions and your body preparing for the mad rush to the top. So far I haven’t felt the sickness that kicked Martin’s *** pretty hard last night. He is better now but whined about missing his wife, his kid and his secretary. I never knew him until I hiked up this mountain and found out who Martin really is. He now shares tent space with Jacob who smells worse than I do.

Day 28-31 There was a few climbers that ended up coming back down. They came through our base camp looking like death eating a cracker. They were so beat they could barely tell us how shitty it had been. They failed to reach the summit and wished us all luck. One of the guides with them lost part of a finger. I am checking my hooks and lines. I don’t want to leave without the parts I took up. Think Martin and Jacob are hooking up.

Day 32-35 Lost one of my Trek poles. These guys found it amusing. Feet are feeling like I have a set of hooves instead. Sage is feeling like he picked the wrong time to go up. Hasn’t got a clue what he will do once we reach the top. Thinks life will lose its excitement when he reaches his life goal. Told him that is the time to be a rock star or run for office. He said I needed to take my own advice. What is it with people and seventy days of no contact with the outside world? I could be up here for another seventy if the ones I was hiking with would quit bitching. One guide is back down. He lost his pack down a trench. First camp has back up and is meeting him part way. He swears he will return.

Day 36-38 Skin is taking a beating. You learn how to appreciate those moments when you don’t feel like a fish out of water. Sleeping with most gear on makes the *** biting cold tolerable.I miss the taste of home but you don’t get this kind of view of the world from the woods in Canada. It is supposed to once in a lifetime but I know I will be back again. May see if I can actually drag the cousins with. von der Marck expedition. Judah would know which ones have been up here already. I know I can’t possibly be the first one. Will ask when I get back.

Day 39-42 This is the result of our planned rotations between Camps I, II and III. We aren’t the only ones that are heading to the top so now it's wait in line and rest for our first attempt. It is bizarre that you find up here of all places that you are lined up like you are heading into a theater. Tempers can be short and cutting in line can be taken as an act of war. As for the base camps from what we have seen a lot of, they are like organized hubs where multiple languages are buzzing about the latest news from various teams. Satellite phones are everywhere but hard to get your hands on since they are always in use. The changing and swapping out gear makes it appear like some pit stop of sorts where everything could be handled in sixty seconds or less. It is a melting pot of the world’s elite and dedicated climbers and great for inspiring those like Sage or Martin who want to trade it in for some sunny beach.

Day 43-48 Spent these days resting and washing my clothes that could be cleaned. Yes, we do laundry up here. In frozen lakes, crushing the ice and trying to get the job done before it all freezes up. Nothing like having to chip your shorts back out of the frozen water.For some reason Jacob found it hilarious when I had to do it...twice. Had the treat of dining in a base tent with another team. Was almost like home. I am caught behind the flowers.Silk flowers. Patka is the woman on the left. She is on a funded year long expedition. It is her third time up to the summit. She wants to introduce me to her son. Said no thanks. Martin of course spent the better part of the evening trying to see if he could get in her tent. He is such an ***.