The Chomolungma Diaries: What a commercial Everest expedition is really like (Footsteps on the Mountain travel diaries)

by Mark Horrell

  There is one alternative to the 19th, but it's much less certain. There might be another summit window a week later, but we have no information about this yet. It may happen, it may not; it would be a roll of the dice, and to a man and woman we believe this narrow sliver of a window represents our best chance of success. The more I think about it I realise that we have no choice. I'm not a gambler, and it's not a decision I can take to roll those dice when a realistic opportunity lies before me. I return to my tent for some sleep, knowing that the first few lines of our summit push story have now been written.

  34. The summit mindset

  Monday 14 May, 2012 - Base Camp, Everest, Tibet

  A morning of blogging, as we spend the first few hours of today sending out messages to friends, family and followers. We have an early morning meeting in the comms tent with the Sherpas for Phil to confirm the schedule we agreed last night. Given that our main concern now is the number of climbers who may or may not be going for the summit on the 19th, he asks the Sherpas to talk to their Sherpa friends in other teams to see if they can discover what their plans are. Although nothing is certain, we don't think everyone on the north side will be going on the 19th. Some, such as the big Indian and Chinese teams, look like they may try to follow right behind the rope fixers on the 18th, and some just won't be ready for this slightly earlier summit window. Others aren't aware of this change in the forecast, and some like Jamie intend to hold out for the hope of a later window. Whatever, for us it's now just one foot in front of the other, and the rest is in the hands of the mountain gods.

  At lunchtime Phil insists we drink beer. This means an early afternoon snooze. I wake up at three o'clock and pack the very small quantity of things I need to take up to ABC tomorrow. I think about a leg stretch up a nearby hillside, but exercise is a double-edged sword here because of the wind. The chance of swallowing dust is high, and the last thing any of us want to do now is pick up a bad cough. I don't know whether I will be fit enough: I hope so, but if I'm not then a leg stretch up a hill this afternoon is neither here nor there. At least I have the determination. And then there's Chongba, who doesn't want me to flag now. My nervousness of yesterday seems to have faded and been replaced by a kind of fatalism. I know I will do my best, but there are a million other factors out of my control. Only the ticking of the clock will reveal the answer this time next week.

  35. The summit push begins

  Tuesday 15 May, 2012 – Advanced Base Camp (ABC), Everest, Tibet

  Our summit push begins with an early start. First light is about 4.45, and my Base Camp routine has usually been to wake up at 5.15 and snooze in my bag for a couple of hours until the sun hits the tent at 7.30. Because we want as much rest as possible when we reach ABC, we've agreed to have a 5.30 breakfast today, so that anyone who wants to make an early start can. I leave at 6.20, a few minutes after Phil and Grant, and am surprised to catch them up a few minutes later. It's quite cold, and I start out with freezing fingers and toes, but they soon warm up as we walk in leisurely fashion alongside the main Rongbuk Glacier. We have our clearest view yet of Everest and the peaks of the Khumbu beyond the West Ridge, and it's pleasant walking again. The weather forecast warned us to expect strong winds, but there's only the occasional gust. Better still, the prevailing winds would usually be into our faces on our climb up to ABC, but much to our relief, what wind there is blows behind us instead.

  Normal service is resumed when the path steepens as we branch off into the East Rongbuk Valley, and Phil speeds off into the distance ahead of us. I find myself walking in front of Grant, and continue my non-stop high altitude slow plod as I did last time, through the dusty desert below Interim Camp, and along the ankle twisting moraine of the Magic Highway above it. There are a few people plodding up the moraine today, but not the crowds we feared. Much of the ice which the path used to cross at Changtse Base Camp is starting melt, and I have to take care walking past it. But this is a sign the mountain is getting warmer, which bodes well for our summit day, when frostbite is a risk.

  I continue onwards without pausing, but on the higher section of the Magic Highway above Changtse Base Camp I feel myself flagging and running out of energy, so I sit down for a piece of cheese and a Snickers bar. Here I have a funny encounter with a couple of Europeans of unidentified nationality. They have been catching me up slowly, and when they pass me sitting on my rock, one of them stops to ask me what time I left Base Camp.

  "About 6.30," I reply. "It usually takes me seven hours from Base Camp to ABC."

  "Oh," he replies. He seems pleased. "And you are the last in your group?"

  "No, in fact I think I'm the first."

  "Oh," he says again. This seems to please him even more.

  I don't ask him how long it has taken him because I don't really care – I'm not racing anyone, and the important thing at this stage is to conserve energy, but he reminds me of another climber we met at Base Camp who has produced a website about his Everest climb in an attempt to get sponsorship. The website focuses on his fitness regime rather than his climbing record, and one of the statements he makes on the site is that he's a member of two gyms. This made us laugh when we were looking at the website on Grant's laptop at Base Camp, as we couldn't imagine how the number of gyms you belong to would help you get sponsorship for a mountaineering expedition, but many people who attempt Everest are competitive athletes rather than mountaineers, and they see it as a hard physical challenge rather than a climb. I'm not a member of any gyms and never have been, but I'm not expecting it to affect my chances.

  Anyway, unfortunately for my new ultra-competitive European friend, my little snack gives me a renewed burst of energy. I steam past him again and arrive into ABC at one o'clock. Our poor Sherpas who arrived only a little before me are having to re-pitch the tents because the Tibetan kitchen crew put them up the wrong way round. No one is critical though – they were trying to be helpful, and have been up here at ABC looking after our camp for 25 days now.

  I'm ushered into the kitchen tent and given milk tea. Phil is very bullish, some might say over-confident. He has spoken to the Tibetan rope fixers and learned they will probably be fixing the rest of the route on the 17th. This is good news, as it hopefully means the eager beaver climbers will try to summit on the 18th.

  "Dude, it's in the bag," he says to me. "I spoke to Chongba. He only got to the North Col on his two previous climbs this side, but not this time." I interpret him to mean my summit attempt is in the bag, rather than the team's as a whole. Chongba will be with me on summit day, so whether or not he reaches the summit largely depends on me.

  "I hope he'll get above the North Col, but it's not in the bag. It's never in the bag till we've got up and down," I reply.

  Phil knows this, but there's no doubt his enthusiasm is infectious, and it does leave me feeling more confident. But there's still a long way to go.

  I retire to my tent and begin preparing my things for tomorrow's climb to the North Col. It's going to be a much harder day getting up that steep wall with a big pack. We all crowd into the kitchen tent again for dinner because the dining tent is damp. For some reason Margaret has completely lost her voice and is having to mime conversation. It's all a bit comical whenever she wants to speak, like some silent Buster Keaton movie. Phil says it always happens to her on the summit push, but it's odd that it didn't happen last time we were up here. I've been wondering how I'm going to put up with Grant's chatter at the higher camps; I'm not much of a talker on summit pushes, and Grant is rather more garrulous.

  "Phil, whatever you gave Margaret at Base Camp can you give it to Grant, too?" I say.

  After one particularly exuberant mime we figure out that Margaret needs a pee bottle. As it happens I have a spare water bottle I wasn't intending to carry up the mountain, so I offer it to her to use, but I'm a bit of an idiot. She doesn't try to mime an explanation, but leans over and whispers in my ear.

  "Mark, the neck is too narrow."

  36. Bottl
eneck on the North Col Wall

  Wednesday 16 May, 2012 – Camp 1, North Col, Everest, Tibet

  We may have ascended 1200 metres of rocky terrain in just a few hours, but yesterday was the easy bit of our summit push. The real climbing, five days of it, begins today. We all agree the North Col Wall is best tackled with a companion. I wanted to leave early this morning to give myself as much rest as possible at Camp 1, and Mark wanted to leave a little later, so we agreed a compromise start time of 9.30. Mila comes with us and we eventually leave at 9.45, but no sooner have we climbed up the big mound of rubbly moraine above our camp to get onto the main trail, than Mark realises he's set off without his ice axe. This is one item he can't do without, and he goes back down to get it, but as Mila and I have been kept waiting for 15 minutes already we decide to continue without him. The 150 metres of ascent up the moraine to Crampon Point is the most exhausting yet, highly demoralising considering how far we still have to climb on this summit push. This is mainly because of all the extra kit we have to carry. I've tried to travel as light as possible, but even so all the essentials add up - sleeping bag, sleeping mat, down suit, radio, two pairs of down mitts, two head torches with spare batteries, snow goggles, first aid kit, pee bottle, toilet paper, two cameras with spare batteries, and water bottles. These are the things in my pack; then there are the other items of weighty equipment I'm wearing, such as huge La Sportiva mountaineering boots, crampons, harness, carabiners and jumar. Tomorrow I'll be able to ditch the Gore-Tex I'm currently wearing and wear my down suit the rest of the way up - one bulky item I won't need to carry - but this will be replaced in my pack by a four kilogram oxygen cylinder and mask.

  We reach Crampon Point exhausted (or I do, at any rate), but when I look at my watch I realise we've made pretty good time. It's only eleven o'clock. There are lots of other climbers here getting cramponed up, though most of them seem to be Sherpas. It's clear quite a lot of people have decided this is a good summit window, though thankfully by no means everyone in Base Camp.

  We set off across the ice plateau. I take it very slowly, and often we have to stop to let Sherpas past. We rest briefly at the foot of the wall before clipping in and starting out on the first bit of real climbing. We agree to take it very easy, with frequent stops if we need them, but often we have to stop to let Sherpas past anyway. It's busy on the wall today, but Sherpas are not the problem because they move more quickly than anyone else on the mountain, even when carrying heavy loads. They're not the ones who cause bottlenecks. Early on in the climb we stop to let a Chinese girl and her team of three Sherpas past, who are all moving quicker than we are; but later she slows down and causes a queue.

  Mila and I continue slowly and take a long rest on a snow balcony about halfway up, just before the slope becomes steeper and stays that way for most of the remaining climb. It's on this section we reach the bottleneck. There must be 20 or 30 other climbers ahead of us and no suitable place to overtake. We have no option but to proceed at their pace. The Chinese girl appears to be at the front of the queue, but there are a couple of very slow American climbers ahead of us too. One man is circumventing the bottleneck by not clipping into the fixed rope, and climbing beside people instead. He is using two sticks instead of an ice axe, which means he has no way of arresting should he fall. The slope is way too steep for sticks and he has to hold them halfway down the shaft. In some of the steeper parts he really struggles and makes the bottleneck worse as people climbing behind him get nervous. Some climbers refuse to use fixed ropes because they regard it as cheating, but to do so on busy mountains like this puts not only himself in danger but other climbers as well, and to compound the danger by using walking sticks instead of an ice axe is extremely selfish. By now Phil has caught up with us and puts into words what everyone else is thinking.

  "What's that prick doing with his sticks? He's going to cause an accident."

  Climbing an exposed section of the North Col Wall

  Luckily all is OK, and we reach the short traverse before the ladder. The Americans ahead of me are walking very slowly now, stopping every few metres, and I wonder how long it's going to take them to get up the ladder. But when we reach its foot another problem emerges. At the top, a large group of 15 Indians and their Sherpas are about to come down, and they couldn't have chosen a worse moment to do so with the majority of the bottleneck still arriving beneath the ladder. The Sherpas are very quick, but many of the Indian climbers descend nervously. It's past three o'clock now, and we start to get cold as the sun disappears behind the seracs above us. We have to wait about half an hour, and other climbers join the queue behind us, including Grant, Mark and Ian. Luckily when it's our turn to ascend everything goes smoothly, and the people ahead of us are relatively quick going up.

  It's four o'clock when we arrive at the North Col campsite at 7075 metres, and the sun is no longer warming the tents. We have a great consolation prize though. All our Sherpas have come up today as well, and Grant and I find ourselves sharing a tent with Chongba. While we lie down and rest, he rehydrates us with mint tea and tries to feed us up with what little food we can eat at this altitude, such as soup and noodles.

  It's very cramped with three of us, and I have a cold night. I feel like I'm squeezed up against one wall of the tent with no elbow room. As the night progresses the inside of the tent wall becomes encrusted with ice formed by condensation from our breath, and it's quite uncomfortable as I periodically roll over and rub my head against it. There are going to be few comforts on this summit push.

  37. Climbing the North Ridge of Everest

  Thursday 17 May, 2012 - Camp 2, Everest, Tibet

  It's a beautiful morning, with the sun on the tents early. Chongba boils up water for tea, but I don't feel like breakfast. When Grant asks for soup I feel a little queasy, and when he manages to squeeze down some chicken noodles as well, I struggle not to retch. It's going to be another long day today, with more than 700 metres of vertical ascent up the North Ridge to Camp 2. Chongba prepares my oxygen bottle and mask before we depart, and I lay it across the top of my pack, ready to start breathing it halfway up today's snow slope. The plan is to start taking supplementary oxygen at the rate of two litres per minute somewhere between 7200 and 7300 metres, but we'll see how far I get without it. Once we begin using it then we intend to keep doing so until we are back at Camp 1 on the way down. Even at night we'll be sleeping on half a litre per minute.

  I leave camp at 7.50 behind most of our team. Within a few minutes of leaving I'm greeted by one of the most amazing views, so jam-packed with peaks that it's difficult to tell them all apart. From Camp 1 itself our view was mainly to the north, down the North Col Wall to the top end of the East Rongbuk Glacier, Advanced Base Camp and the smaller peaks behind, including the innocuous triangles of Khartaphu and Lhakpa Ri. While the slopes of Changtse were up to our left, the view to the south was obscured by a high wall of seracs behind camp. Shortly after leaving camp, and before I've started climbing up the North Ridge, I emerge from underneath the seracs and find myself standing on the North Col proper. To my right all the peaks of the Khumbu region of Nepal seem to be stretching out before me like a tumble of discarded child's toys. Most prominent among them is Pumori, a frightening cylindrical peak about the same height as we are (7075 metres). I've been reading the account of the 1922 expedition on my Kindle during our many hours at Base Camp. Mallory gushed about this view in a way I couldn't possibly recreate, even if I were to suck on eight litres of oxygen a minute, so I'll repeat his description here.

  "We had now an uninterrupted view of all that lies to the west. Below us was the head of the main Rongbuk Glacier. On the skyline to the left was the prodigious northwest ridge of Everest, flanked with snow, hiding the crest of the West Peak. Past the foot of the northwest ridge we looked down the immense glacier flow south-westwards into Nepal and saw without distinguishing them the distant ranges beyond. Near at hand a sharp edge of rocks, the buttress of Changtse falling abruptly to the
Rongbuk Glacier, blocked out vision of the two greatest mountains northwest of Everest, Gyachung Kang and Cho Oyu.