I'm sure you've heard the cold described as righteous and merciless. I'm sure you've heard it described as god. I'm sure you've heard it described as fecking cold. It can be all of those things.
Read MoreEverything was white. The snow was thick and the wind was picking up. I was concentrating on each step, hiking up Poland’s highest mountain in freezing temperatures. A few feet ahead of me was Wim Hof. We had been chatting on the way up, but now he was leaping ahead, singing as he went.
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