The Beginning of The Summit Push

This is the penultimate blog. I hope you enjoy it. As well I would like to announce that we have 50 Wilde on Everest t shiirts left, a few summit stones and the auction of 2 signed oxygen bottles (the entire team signed them). I hope you will visit Global H2O at www.globalh2o.org.

During our wait, numbers and dates were thrown around wildly. Many people were grim with news of an early end to the season. The 25th of May seemed to be the date that most agreed would be the beginning of the monsoon. It was unsettling as every bit of news seemed designed to put doubt in my head as to the safety of the climb.

Abramov and Hanna were very consequent in the decision to send the teams to IBC on the 16th and ABC on the 17th. We made our way up the East Rongbuk one last time, increasing our speed, allowing for as much rest as possible. When we arrived at ABC, the plan was to spend a rest day and begin heading up the Col.

The teams were not finalized until we arrived in ABC, and when we arrived all was clear except for one minor surprise- Stravko would be on the 2nd team with Michael replacing him on the first. This came as a surprise as Michael had suffered Achilles issues the last weeks. Stravko was extremely irritated and argued extensively with Alex and Noel.

I admit that I was extremely nervous being a part of the first team, because I never considered myself one of the strongest. I was worried that my position in the team was more deserved by someone like Stravko, who really wanted it.

Would I be strong enough on The Day of Days? Would it be like 2005? How would I manage my fear of heights? How would my body handle to lowest atmospheric pressure on the planet? The wind? (I probably on weigh 60 kilos now). Would I be fast enough? How would the crowds look on summit day? I had many questions; all throwing into doubt my overall readiness for the top of the world.

It was decided and we were off to the Col though. Our target summit was to be on the 22nd. As we headed up the Col, the questions and doubts really worked into me. The team was moving faster than I could. It upset me to be holding everyone up and on two distinct occasions, I was ready to give up. I jumped off the fixed ropes and argued with Noel that Stravko had more of a right to be on the team because I was moving so slowly.

“Get your fingers out of your hole and get back onto the fixed lines.” Noel’s two fingers were curled and pointed to his rear end. The team continued ahead and I continued climbing at the back of the line, wishing to be off the mountain.

I arrived at the North Col 20 minutes behind the rest of the team, with serious doubts of my ability to continue. When I arrived, the Romeros had just left on their summit push. The wind was howling and tents were being destroyed left and right.

My gear was stowed in the tent nearest the pee holes and toilet, directly against the upper part of the schrund on the North Col. This was good because it meant that the wind would not play as much with my tent. Steve and Pasang were in a tent directly on the lip of the lower part of the schrund, and thus more exposed to the high winds.

I left the tent after a short snooze, hearing loud cries and a lot of excitement. A tent had just been split in half and the contents lifted into the sky. The tent rose 10 meters off the Col and flew over the back side (west) of the Col. A down suit was still floating, fully inflated from the wind, slamming into one of our tents. Nima, my Sherpani climbing partner, grabbed it before it had a second chance at flight.

The owner of the gear was completely distraught. His expedition was clearly over, thanks to an open tent caught by a blast of Everest North Side winds. It could happen to anyone, and again I felt a twinge of fear creep over me.

The next morning, after a sleepless night, thanks to the howling winds, I crawled out of the tent in time for breakfast. We had a few centimeters of fresh snow. Steve and Pasang nearly lost the fly of their tent — shredded from the high winds. It was clear to me that we would not be ascending into the gale as setting the tents would be impossible. The summit push would have to wait another day.

During the morning, an older Italian, Luigi, came down from 7700 meters. He had spent the night wrapped in his broken tent there and was suffering from hypothermia. This was his 4th attempt of Everest and he mentioned that his 71-year old body could not take another season on this mountain. The sherpas were all convinced that he had come here to die. His resolve to get down proved this wrong.

While in our dining tent, Karina, the Brazlian friend of the Romeros arrived for the first time to the North Col. She had been climbing the south side on a Lohtse permit, when her partner quit and went home. She joined the Romeros on the North to continue her climb. She lacked gear, Sherpa support and oxygen, so The North Col was the end of the line for her.

At dinner, she had mentioned that the tent she was in “seemed to want to fly” and that she was terrified of the wind. I explained that I would be happy to stay in the same tent, if she really felt nervous. When I saw the tent, it became apparent why the tent wanted to fly. Her neighbors had unstaked the upwind side of her tent and tied directly to it. I spent at least 45 minutes reestablishing the foundation of the tent.

We were all talking about the push now. I was particularly upset with the crowd that had appeared. Our delay had allowed 40 additional people to catch up with us. I explained to Noel that I would not be going if I saw more than 50 people in front of us. I was scratching for excuses. Weather, people what else would I need for a valid excuse to tell everyone that I would not risk my neck?

The night I spent in the Romero’s tent was the windiest night I spent on Everest. Karina was terrified. Again the freight train would gather energy higher on the mountain, rumbling down and blasting the tents every 10 minutes. The warning was good enough to allow me to estimate each blast’s strength before it reached us— almost like watching for the big waves while surfing.

I had explained to her my thoughts about it all. She mentioned something that sat really well with me. “Suffering is only temporary; Glory is forever.” I was worried about suffering —

The next morning, I was up and out quickly. We strapped on the Os and started for the higher camps around mid-day. I realized that the faster we left the North Col, the more likely I would be to continue.

We started moving after the crowds had already left for camp II. I could count at least 50 bodies we would have to pass along the fixed lines. As we would be climbing on oxygen, we would be moving considerably faster than the rest. Alex had mentioned 2x as fast, but I was doubtful.

We left quickly and it amazed me the changes on the saddle of the Col. What was a smoothe and easy walk in 2005 had turned into a crevasse-pocked Col. The walk out of camp took us down 20 meters through several gaping crevasses, then up the snow slopes to 7550 meters.

The climb is steady and easy but also difficult mentally as you can see all the way to camp II. We moved quickly, passing multiple groups at a time. I felt as if I was spending more time off the fixed ropes than on. On the steeper sections I refused to pass. We did not stop once during the climb, except for me. I paused at the beginning of the rocks for a bit of water, which put me 15 minutes behind the rest of the team.

Still feeling the weakest link on the team, I was a bit stressed when we arrived in Camp II. Noel asked if he could spend the night in my tent with Nima and me. Afterwards, I had realized that it was his tactic to settle me down and get me focused for the next section to camp III. It was certainly a great move by a great guide.

I managed to doze off for about an hour when I was awakened by Nima, who had made soup with smoked chicken. The sun was going down and things began to get cold. The food was surprisingly good and we managed to drink tea and eat a full meal, while waiting for the night to come. I felt much more relaxed than I did in 2005. There was no wind and I was a part of a team going for the summit instead of a solo climber chasing Russia’s best mountaineers.

Soon after dinner, we began to get ready for bed. I had planned to sleep in my down and with my boots on. I had dried my socks thoroughly in the afternoon sun, so everything felt dry and warm before the sun set.

During the night, I woke several times. The place where we were sleeping was not even and definitely uncomfortable, but all in all, I felt strong and ready. There was no doubt in my mind at this point that I would be going for the summit in 24 hours and it felt great that all of the hard work had led up to this point.

Although I was not fully in my sleeping bag, I was warm, as I was in my down jacket and pants. The Oxygen made everything much more comfortable. We were sleeping on ½ liter flow, which was enough to warm your hands and keep the Cheynes Stokes to a minimum.

We were settling in when the sun had disappeared. It was quite dark, when we heard one of the last teams coming into Camp II. They complained that our tent was in their camping place. One of the voices approached our tent and hit the tent with a ski pole. Noel screamed, “What the f##k do ya think you’re doing?” I was sure there would be a fight, but we kept quiet and the boys gathered their gear and moved on.

When morning came, we were moving quickly after the breakfast porridge and tea. My stomach was killing me. It was obvious that the food we were eating was not being absorbed. I crawled out onto the terrace of the camp spot. It was a spectacular view of Pumori & Cho Oyu, and I needed to do some heavy work before leaving. One of the best pit stops I have ever had!

Leaving Camp II, I was heading up into my altitude record territory. I felt good as I knew I would beat my personal altitude record.

The way to Camp III is steep at first through the rocks, similar to the approach to Camp II. After an hour of steep, rocky terrain, the route turns right and traverses the mountain about 500 meters. We were moving quickly but steadily, and there was never a time during this day when I felt out of breath.

At the end of the traverse, Camp III comes into view and again I decided to take a break and fell behind the rest of the team. Camp III is not as exposed as Camp II, with the wind being blocked to the west by the West Ridge of Everest and to the East by the shoulder of the Northeast ridge.

The camp is littered with destroyed tents and they were spread out wide in the cul de sac of Camp III. The summit ridge lay 200 meters above us and the sun was intense as I walked into Camp III. I was again 10 minutes behind the team, as I had a break that the others decided not to take. Nima was waiting for me in front of the tent, while the other sherpas were still working away at the camp sites.

I walked up a bit to speak to Noel and saw Team Romero who had just returned from their successful summit. All three of them looked great. None of them had their O2 masks on, and Paul was recounting the stories of the climb. It was very exciting.

We began to discuss the strategy as the other teams and masses of people began to walk into Camp III. It was clear that our summit day would be crowded on the ridge and Noel had a plan to leave early on a lower flow rate. The radio chatter was going between Noel and Alex. Alex listened and agreed to Noel’s plan. I felt better that we would be leaving early, very early, for the summit. We were to be ready at 9:30 Chinese time according to Noel, but Mingma (our sirdar) convinced him to push back to 10:00.

I couldn’t sleep. We were at the highest camp in the world and the summit attempt would begin in less than 6 hours! These were the longest hours of the expedition. I sat there in the tent with Nima. The cookers were going full steam, and I only had my thoughts of what was to come to keep me company. 50 days of preparation on Everest was boiling down to the next 24 hours. It felt great as I knew that I had a great guide and that I felt really strong. It was again just a matter of waiting.