Noel had a good laugh when we got to the top of the 2nd step and I was smiling inside as I knew that we had less than three hours to the top. As the team gathered again above the step, Nima helped me with my headlamp. My last set of batteries needed to last 5 hours. It was now almost 1 a.m. Chinese time and the sun would be rising around 6:30. I did not make the calculation in my head though I probably should have realized that the batteries would not last the full time, which meant I would be climbing the highest bit of Everest in the dark.
The change took only a few minutes, but I had a scare when I dropped one of the batteries in the snow. I had clearly lost dexterity and again, I was getting cold. We pushed ahead though. Along the flat section between the 2nd and 3rd Steps, our progress was very fast.
Just before the 3rd Step my headlamp went out for the 3rd time and my goggles had fogged and iced up completely. Visibility was nil and I was stumbling all over the place. I pulled off to the side of the track and started to complain. Steve Berry was right behind me. I yelled to him, trying to overcome the noise of the wind, “My goggles are iced and I can’t see shit. Steve go past me. You will make it if you get past me.”
Steve looked at me and screamed back, “You will too, if you just take off your goggles. Look at me! I am not wearing anything!”
I removed my goggles, reluctantly, remembering the story of my friend, Lorenzo, who spent a cold night on the summit ridge working to unfreeze his eyes. I did not want the same happening to me.
It was at that moment when we caught a glimpse of Lohtse and the South Col. The South side summit push had begun, and the lights from the headlamps were like cars in a traffic jam, hundreds lined up on their way to the top.
Again, the blue, purple, and grey monsters of Lohtse and Makalu were in clear view. South of them, beyond in Nepal, we could see the monsoon storm gathering strength. Large thunderheads bulged upward into the sky. The shapes resembled anvils which would light up randomly like out of some science fiction movie. It reminded me of Flash Gordon and the swirling orange clouds filled with lightning.
My mind was all over the place. It was hard to stay focused on any one thought. The altitude was beginning to affect my ability to think in ways I had never experienced before. I could swear that I was hallucinating as the monsoon clouds in the distance and the display of shooting stars felt like a fireworks show after a heavy dose of psychadelics.
As we approached the 3rd step, another body appeared out of the dark. A corpse lay at the bottom of the 3rd Step. The ropes practically passed right over the huge body which was curled up in the fetal position; the face not visible at all. We were ready to begin up the 3rd Step but the rope was stretched straight making it impossible for the people already on the 3rd Step to continue. We had to release the pressure from the ropes to make any progress.
I got onto the step eventually and about half-way up I placed my foot on a large boulder. When I put weight on it, it came loose and was clearly going to roll down. I held my foot on it, trying to alert the others behind me that the boulder was about to come loose. I was terrified it would crush my left shin, which was still supporting me as I held the boulder in place with my right foot.
I made a quick move to my left, pushing the boulder away from me with my right foot. It rolled away past Nima and the others luckily not injuring anyone. My heart was racing as I sat the in the dark listening to it fall away thousands of feet down the north wall of Everest. The sound went on for almost 30 seconds and reminded me again of the precipice that lay beyond my view in the dark.
On top of the 3rd Step, the snow pyramid comes into plain view and there at the bottom lay my team mate from the 2005 expedition. The last time I saw him was in early May 2005. Marco was a very nice, gentle man from Slovenia, with whom I spent a lot of time. We walked up and down the East Rongbuk together at least 3 times, and I can still remember the fun we had playing the rocks game- guessing home many stones you had in your hands. There he was frozen in a position with an expression as if he had been frightened by something, shortly before freezing.
When you see the corpses of people you don’t know, it seems as if they are part of the landscape or nature, but having known Marco so well, it was not the same. I wanted to sit down next to him and share polish Kielbasa as we had during our acclimatization hikes.
There were flashes coming from behind the mountain. Noel looked at me, looking at Marco, and said, “Hey big nuts, that’s the summit!” I started to break down emotionally. I got on one knee and wept. “Get up, Dickey. We still have at least a half an hour to go and we’re not there yet!”
I pulled it together and had my O2 screwed up to a flow rate of 4 liters. We were moving up the snow slope incredibly slowly. Noel had really taken his foot off the gas in an attempt to get us to the summit later and later. It was now 4:30 Chinese time and the sun would not be rising for another 2 hours. We only had 45 minutes to one hour of steady climbing to go to reach the top. We would hit the top well before sunrise.
My headlamp extinguished for the last time, meaning I would complete the climb in the dark. Footing in the scree proved difficult in the dark. The snow on the slope was firm. I had expected it to be a difficult climb, but it was much more simple than climbing the scree.
Vadim stopped us, complaining of eye issues. He had frozen his right eye going up. He asked Mingma and Noel what he should do. They decided together that he and his Sherpa should descend together. I began to notice a loss of peripheral vision. It was surely the same issue, just nearly as bad.
When we reached the top of the snow slope, we could see the last part of the ridge with two figures on the summit taking photos. I kneeled again, sobbing with joy. The tears were not helping my right eye. I had lost all of my peripheral vision in my right eye and was trying to keep it closed. It was like looking through milk.
Many people lose hours of their memory, many hallucinate, and some even imagine people in their presence, who are not even there. I don’t remember the next 15 minutes to the top. The dihedral and the last switchback are gone from my memory, most likely lost from the emotional charge and low levels of oxygen.
I do remember the last 5 meters to the top. A sastrugi prevented us from going direct from our position on the ridge to the summit. We walked around this wave of ice and the prayer flags and the Buddha statue came into clear view. We arrived at the top, and I asked, “Do we actually need to put our foot on the very top?” Noel said no, but when we were clipped into the safety lines fixed on top, I lost my fear and stood next to Buddha on top of the world with my friends, Steve and Noel.
It was really hard to imagine, that in the dark we had ascended to the highest point on the planet. I continued in and out of my emotional outbursts. Michael came over and we all started hugging. Northern Ireland, England, Russia, Nepal and the USA all huddled closely just below the summit, our safeties becoming badly tangled. We all began to celebrate.
While standing on the summit, I began to wonder why all the orange and yellow down suits were so short. The brown faces of the sherpas were lit with bright white teeth as they laughed, celebrating the accomplishment. I still wondered why the sherpas were so small and midget-like. I had begun to think that this was clearly some sort of psychedelic reaction.
There on the summit I kept seeing dancing midgets in orange-yellow down suits yelling in Nepali and throwing prayer papers into the wind. Colorful sheets of paper dancing around the summit in the wind, when I finally realized that I was a good meter above the rest, making everyone seem short.
We sat down and I tried to retrieve my camera. As soon as I pulled it out of the inside of my jacket, I realized it had frozen solid. I would not be able to take one summit photo. I did not want to have my mittens off for too long so I put the camera back in my pocket. The others had similar problems, but luckily three cameras out of the 10 people worked.
After approximately 20 minutes on top of the world, my feet began to go numb, and I said to Noel, “I am outta here.” He replied, “Go with Nima as fast as you can. Don’t wait for anyone.” With that message, I was off the summit and in front of the 3rd step again in 10 minutes. The sky began to get lighter as sunrise approached. The shooting stars began to vanish replaced by a view of Makalu and Lohtse that was truly the most beautiful sunrise I have ever experienced.
Above the 3rd step, I sat with Marco for a few minutes and gather the stones which I promised to bring with me for the charity Global H2O. Nima stared at me, probably wondering why I was putting rocks in my pocket.
We descended the 3rd step going a different route down, which was much easier. With the wind blowing from left to right now, I bean to lose peripheral vision in my left eye. Nima looked at me and said, “Let me change your carabinier out at the anchors. It will be faster.” He was great and we moved extremely fast.
Sooner than expected we were at the top of the 2nd step again. It was now just past 7:00 Chinese time. The north face was in plain view and it was now time to deal with my worst fear and greatest apprehension, fear of descent down a 25 meter rock face above a graveyard of corpses and a 10,000 foot drop.
Nima hopped over the edge and stood on a boulder next to the ladder, one meter below the top of the step. He explained that I should descend without a cam, backwards down the step. We would not rappel, no figure 8.
I was told to take an arm wrap and back down over the edge to the ladder slowly. The issue was I was hanging my rear end out over the 10,000 foot abyss, trying to blindly find footing on the first rungs of the ladder with nothing else keeping me from falling except the friction of the 5 ropes I had wrapped around my right arm.
I moved over the edge with incredible trepidation, but resolved to not think about the altitude, the height or the corpses which lay below. Nima grabbed my left heel and placed the giant Millet Boot on the highest rung. He then took my right foot which I raised over the edge and placed it on the next rung. I started to feel confident that with the help of this great Sherpa I would come through the descent of the Second Step alive.
Within 10 minutes we were at the bottom of the Second Step, making our way to the Mushroom Rock. When we arrived there, Nima checked my oxygen, which was now almost empty. We took a rest at the Mushroom Rock and I changed out my bottle with a fresh one. Nima was drinking water and filling his pack with empty O2 bottles which littered the rest area. I did not mind, as Nima would earn up to $100 per bottle he brought off Everest. He deserved it.
We had been climbing for over 9 hours now and I had had nothing to drink or eat. I brought out my bottle and the water inside was starting to freeze. I had ½ liter and the two energy gel packs. I had no appetite for the chocolate. Again I took the time to pee. This time I was able to see all that I had missed in the night from the same spot.
Makalu is truly a beautiful site from the ridge of Everest. I wanted to look at it in the morning light for hours, but knew that I still was not safe and had the crowds to pass which were still ascending.
When we got to Green Boots, I began to pass the first groups. I couldn’t believe that these people were so slow and still ascending. It seemed a bit ridiculous that this was the group of Germans in the Gronell boots who were blocking the way out of the high camp.
Passing on the ridge is tricky, as there is just one fixed rope and the path is terribly narrow and riddled with loose rocks and bad footing. With every person we passed, I would hold the rope in front of the person, remove my safety, clip it behind the ascending climber, and release the rope from my hands. The ascending climber would generally stop and force me, the descending climber, to unclip from the fixed lines.
Several times along the way, I felt unsteady and stumbled, but nothing really tragic happened. On the steep sections, I would Sherpa rappel down. With safety clipped to the lines, I would wrap the fixed line around my forearm in front of my body and lean on the rope, facing downhill, walking quickly down, using the friction as a brake.
At the first step, I passed a climber, whose face I will never forget. It was the only face I remember, because it was maskless. An Austrian in his mid 20s, he was ascending without oxygen. Dressed in a blue and yellow down suit, with hair tangled in knots in the Velcro of his hood, he looked ghost like, moving terribly slowly up the traverse towards the 2nd step.
We later met in Kathmandu, where I heard that he had taken 5 naps on his way up, having to turn around before the 3rd step, because he had no more water. He had hallucinated badly on his return to the North Col, dehydrated, no oxygen, unable to find the rest of his team in the monsoon snow. Eventually he fell into an empty, unoccupied tent, and fell asleep with his legs hanging out of the entrance. He eventually suffered from frostbite on his toes.
There were at least 50 people we had to pass on the way down. The absolute last person coming up, we passed just before the exit cracks. He asked me if there was still time to summit. I explained to him that he was terribly late and had at least 5 hours to the top but realistically more like 9. He thanked me and continued on, as did we.
