William Pike wakes to a volcanic eruption at 2,500 meters and tries to dig out of ice and rock with an injured leg. His ice axes and shovels don't work. He and a companion are trapped in minus-8 degree conditions.
About two and a half thousand meters above sea level (≈2,500 m).
Minus eight degrees (≈−8°C).
Mate. I think there's been interruption. Come on over, like, let's. Let's dig me out and we'll get down the mountain. Not knowing that my legs were buggered. So he kind of tiptoes over, literally in his underwear, his favorite blue undies on that night. And he tiptoed across the debris with his bare feet, which was not an easy thing to do anyway. And then we frantically began digging. And we're using our hands and just clawing away at, like, ice and hard volcanic rock. It was fruitless. We tried ice axes, we tried shovels, but I was stuck. And I kind of turned to him and we had this crazy conversation at what, two and a half thousand meters above sea level was minus eight degrees up there. What the hell are we going to do?
