Yesterday we had breakfast in the most beautiful place. We stopped at a clearing in heavy forest with frost still on the ground. Nearly every tree around the clearing was either a huge magnolia or rhododendron in full flower. When the sun reached us, the photographers went mad. I took a lot of colour photographs which I hope will show something of the glory of this place. The magnolia blooms were perfectly white and mostly over 12 inches across. These trees are between 40 feet and 60 feet high – covered with blooms and not one leaf. They are difficult to climb, but Ed scaled up one and with a kukri, lopped off a huge limb which enabled us to get some close-up photographs of the separate blooms.
Lately we have collectively seen a lot of animals and birds which we have missed before. Early in the trip we saw a marten (stoat family) and lately a musk deer (very rare), two panthers, a large horned goat like a bharal, several monkeys, and four snakes. The largest snake was crossing the track when Greg and I were together. The track was about 3 ft wide and the head was in the undergrowth on one side while the tail was still slithering through the undergrowth on the other.
I have a feather in my hat which is seventeen inches long and John Hunt (who is a keen bird watcher) tells me that it is the tail feather of a Himalayan tree-pie – a gloriously plumed bird that is quite rarely seen. I found the feather in the bush three days ago.
Tomorrow we walk to Thyangboche (13,500 ft) where we will camp for three days before heading off on the first acclimatisation trip.
More anon from there.
Love to all, George.
Thyangboche Monastery
29th March 1953
Dear Folks,
Thyangboche Monastery is certainly the most beautiful place in all the Himalaya. Everybody here seems to think so. Two years ago Ed wrote to me from here and went into eulogies of praise and Tilman said that he was coming back to die here.
We reached Thyangboche – our present base – two days ago. The day was perfect and we topped the rise at mid-day, to lie in a big grassy paddock set aside for us by the lamas. All around are mountains with the most fantastic shapes and straight ahead of me now is Everest, clear on one side and streaming with a plume of snow and cloud on the other. It looks immensely high and formidable from here (13,000 ft).
… 30th March.
I’ve been so busy these last two days with food, wireless, oxygen, aluminium bridging, tripod and yacht-tackle bridging, arranging clothing and a dozen other things, that the days have gone like wildfire. Maybe on this trip we’re off on today I’ll tell you about equipment; of the visit and blessing at the Thyangboche Monastery and of how they pray for us and the Sherpas every day; of how we’re having trouble with a pirating newspaper man from the Daily Telegraph (London) who has come to Namche with a wireless and hopes to forestall the ‘Times’ in ‘noos’; of how we listened last night to London direct to the commentary on the Oxford Cambridge boat-race; of how we climbed a peak of 16,000 ft this morning and tested the walky-talky wireless sets (weight 9½ lbs) which worked perfectly; of our various tents which are full of new ideas; of our footgear (down socks, woolly camp-boots, fur-lined general purpose boots, high altitude kapok lined boots, etc.); of a dozen other things.
The team reached Thyangboche Monastery on 27 March and set up camp in a grassy meadow. Later that day they pitched all the tents for the first time, about twenty in all for the various stages up the mountain.
I’ve just been out of the tent to see the wonders of sunset on Everest. The rocks were a velvety-black and the snow was pink with a great pink cloud trailing away – it was a great view. Tom Stobart, the photographer, has just been trying to film it.
Well, I must tell you what we’re off to do. We’re going off in 3 parties to spend 8 days climbing and exploring to get acclimatised and try an oxygen test-run at 18,000 or 20,000 feet. I’m in John Hunt’s party along with Gregory and Tenzing and six high-altitude Sherpas (a high altitude Sherpa is one equipped exactly as we are and who we hope will carry to the highest camps on Everest). We are going up the Imja valley under the Lhotse-Nuptse wall to explore a piece of range there for 8 days.
We’ll be back in Thyangboche then to reunite with the other two parties (under Ed Hillary and Charles Evans) and then we split up again into three parties for the second acclimatisation run. John Hunt has decided to send a party on to the Khumbu icefall during this second period to explore it thoroughly and bash a route up it and bridge the crevasses in preparation for the big lift of food and equipment to advanced base in the Western Cwm. Ed and I are two of the select four chosen for this job and we’re rather pleased (George Band and Mike Westmacott are the other two.)
It’s practically dark and I must stop as I can’t see what I’m writing. We’re all fit and raring to go. There are lots of things to do – so much so that I’ve read nothing and written very few letters.
I haven’t had any mail since Katmandu (6th March) and I’m looking forward to the next lot. Before I forget – Betty, could you hurry and send three tartan wool shirts to me at Katmandu. Several of the English boys want to get one – My size will do – Three different. I must stop, it’s dark.
Cheers to all, George.
Thyangboche Meadow
6th April 1953
Dear Folks,
Another perfect day. This year the Everest district seems to specialise in them. You might wonder why we don’t rush in and take a crack at the mountain? Here, at Thyangboche, the day is perfect and Everest is clear and sharp in the sky but a look through binoculars displays evidence of a wind slamming snow particles off the ridge and the cold up there in April would be unbearable.
The first of our two acclimatisation periods is over and our little party, for one, has had a great time. Eight days ago we broke into three groups and each went to explore a different and unmapped valley. Charles Evans took a party of four (Tom Bourdillon, Mike Westmacott and George Band) to the south of Ama Dablam, where they climbed to 19,500 ft getting used to the height and practising with both ‘open’ and ‘closed’ circuit oxygen. Charles had a photo-theodolite and did a lot of mapping photography with it. They all returned last night just after us.
Ed has a party up the Chola Kola valley and is due back today. They were to explore the Chola Kola, practise with open circuit oxygen and map the area. With him are Mike Ward, Wilfred Noyce and Charles Wylie. I was in John Hunt’s party along with ‘Greg’ Gregory and Tenzing (the sirdar who went to 28,000 ft last year and is counted as one of the summit potentials).
We went up the Imja valley under the Lhotse-Nuptse wall (5 miles long and between 25,000 and 27,000 ft in height!) – and under the cliffs of Nuptse we discovered a glacier and a hidden peak which we climbed and called ‘Chukung Peak’ – it was just under 20,000 ft. This is briefly what we did.
We left here on 30th March – everybody carrying quite heavy loads (a theory of Hunt’s with which I don’t agree) and we camped at Dingboche – a village at 15,000 ft where the lama from this monastery was visiting to bless the yaks, ploughs, people, potatoes and fields at the spring planting. Lhotse dominates Dingboche – Lhotse is nearly 28,000 ft and is only three or four miles away and it seems to lean overhead – and that night the sunset on it and the streaming cloud from it, was exceedingly beautiful.
On 31st we saw the end of a glacier and went up it towards Nuptse and camped at 17,400 ft. For water we sent the Sherpas to cut blocks of ice from the glacier. April 1st was a memorable day. We all tried the ‘open circuit’ oxygen on a peak – an easy climb from 18,000 to 19,800 ft. The open circuit consists of a frame holding a big air-force oxygen cylinder holding 1,400 litres of pure oxygen at a pressure of 3,300 atmospheres. The bottle has a tap and a pressure gauge, then a breaking down valve which controls the flow and feeds it slowly into an ‘economiser’, a bag with an automatic valve which opens on breathing in and closes on breathing out; this avoids waste. From the economiser comes a tube which goes through a valve which can be adjusted to two flow rates (either 3 litres or 6 litres
of oxygen per minute).
The open circuit apparatus allowed the climber to breathe air from the atmosphere as well as oxygen from the cylinders on the climber’s back.
With the closed circuit, where no outside air entered the mask, the climber only used the cylinder oxygen, which after being breathed in and out could be used again.
The tube then screws into a mask that we wear. The mask covers nose and mouth and is fitted with valves to allow air from outside the mask to come an as well as the puff of pure oxygen from the bottle. On breathing out the mask valves open and all expelled air goes out. This sounds a bit complicated – but it’s an easy gadget compared with Tom Bourdillon’s ‘closed circuit’ which has a very tight fitting mask which seals the breather off from the outside world. The inhaled breath is pure oxygen and the exhaled breath is breathed into a soda-lime canister which absorbs the carbon dioxide and uses the generated heat for warming the next breath!
Anyway on 1st April I tried the open circuit. It weighs 35 lbs which is a great disadvantage. I had walked up to 18,000 feet for the first time and was feeling pretty lethargic and slightly headachy and not in the slightest did I feel like pushing on to 19,800. However, with Tenzing I fitted on the mask and checked the gear, connected up and switched on. We set off together – each on 3 litres per minute and began swinging up-hill. Instead of puffing and panting I breathed deeply and evenly and stepped up without that feeling of fatigue that I have had before being acclimatised. It was a terrific relief to find the outfit really worked.
With every breath I felt the economiser give a little gasp and send a puff of gas into the mask. The tiny rubber valves in the mask flip-flopped with the breaths and I felt wonderful. With the mask and tube and goggled eyes Tenzing looked a rare specimen of the scientific age and I felt I did too.
We had been going for 25 minutes and had climbed some 500 feet when there was a sudden explosion and a roaring of air and I nearly fell over with fright. Tenzing was clawing at his frame – his reducing valve had blown out. He closed the tap on the bottle and took off his set and we saw that nothing we could do would fix it. He went down and I pushed on. I soon forgot the incident and began to marvel at the boost that the set was giving me. Whether it was so or not I don’t know, but I had a feeling of rhythm and power with the oxygen flowing in. There was a very slight hiss from the bottle and the economiser puffed and sucked and the mask kept out the cold from my face. Drops of moisture dribbled out of the mask outlet and froze soon after they hit the ground. The top of the hill looked far away when I stopped to change the flow rate to six litres and I was amazed to find I got there in ten minutes. On six litres, I felt like running and could climb at sea-level pace.
On top at 19,800 feet I sat down, drank in the high flow rate and enjoyed the view. The view was familiar to me but I still enjoyed seeing Makalu, Cho Oyu, Gyachung Kang, Lhotse and co. and all the sharp impassable ice teeth further south of me. To save oxygen we had agreed to switch off on top and come down without it. I did this and coming down was not too bad. I noticed the weight, whereas before I hadn’t. Coming down doesn’t tax the breathing like going up.
John Hunt and Greg, and lastly Tenzing, did the same run with the good apparatus and we all did the 1,800 feet in about 1 hour – actually Tenzing did it in 50 minutes which for any altitude is really cracking along. He is very fit, a beautiful mover and very used to high altitudes. As well, he’s an unspoiled character after the publicity of his climbing. He’s the ideal companion, with an infectious sense of humour and the desire to yodel and whoop like hell when he’s happy (most unusual in a Tibetan). He speaks a little English and is teaching me Hindustani and a bit of Tibetan. He’s everybody’s favourite.
We were all excited by the success of the oxygen and with that and the newness to altitude I couldn’t get to sleep. I took a sleeping pill as an experiment – the others use them almost regularly. I slept like a log for ten hours and had the most vivid dreams near waking. The only effect it had was to leave me slow for an hour and I had to force myself into action. I don’t think I’ll try any more!
On 2nd April we took a light camp to the head of the glacier and camped at 18,900 ft and on 3rd April climbed an ice peak which was just about 20,000 feet. John Hunt led this and cut steps up 400 feet of snow and occasional ice. He measured the slope with a clinometer – a steady angle of 51° which is steep. We traversed the peak and went down to our 17,400 camp.
On 4th we climbed to a pass at 20,000 feet hoping to cross into the Khumbu valley but found the far side an impossible cliff. We took a round of angles on all the trigged peaks – sketched in the new glaciers and returned the way we had come, getting back last night – fit and very satisfied with our first run to a moderate height. Here’s a rough map.
Now we’re feeding and resting at Thyangboche for 3 days before the second acclimatisation period begins (10 days). For this the parties are mixing up. Two parties are going off on slightly longer journeys while the third is going to reccy the Khumbu icefall to make a route up it before the main attack begins. For this Ed and I have been chosen with George Band (the wireless and food officer) and Mike Westmacott (ex-army engineer and in charge of the crevasse bridging and tackle) to help us. Like Ed I’m looking forward to this next bout as it’s right in our line of amusement. So far the winter has been unusually dry and snowless, which may mean that the icefall is more broken, icy and difficult than after heavy falls.
Everest is quite snowy now – while we were away, a fall covered all the high peaks and the wind is now busy clearing it away.
Although mail-runners are going out, none have yet come in and we are expecting the first delivery about 18th April which seems to be a long way off. After the 20th April the long job of placing camps and supplies on Everest will begin in preparation for an assault on or after 15th May. We are all hoping that this is the year. I wonder what you’re all doing for Easter? Kindest regards to all. I hope the club had a fine Easter jaunt – as I did!
George.
P.S. As from 1st May until June 6th the B.B.C. and All India radio (Delhi) will be broadcasting a special weather bulletin for us to tell of the approach of monsoon. You may hear but I think it will probably be after midnight. All India (Delhi) – 17 hrs. 18 minutes (Indian time). B.B.C. 14 hrs. 15 minutes. 6½ behind you. (G.M.T.).
Geo.
Camp II
16th April 1953
Dear Folks,
A few hours ago, Ed Hillary, George Band and I established Camp II. What a place! What a wind! What a view – if you can get outside against the wind! It has taken four days to make a route through to here. We established Base and then Camp I at the foot of the icefall on 12th April. The night temperatures on the glacier have been around 30° to 35° of frost, and the nights have been wonderfully starlit. All night the glacier splits and cracks and booms – I know because I spent much of the first two nights awake and often out of the tent with a violent attack of diarrhoea. For three days I ate nothing and life was grim. During this time, Ed, George B. and Mike Westmacott attacked the icefall. From below it looked exceedingly broken and I watched them with binoculars. Most of the time they were out of sight behind towers, blocks and along crevasse ledges. They returned both nights with hair-raising accounts of the difficulty – and danger. Ed says that it’s far more broken than 1951 and the Sherpas say the Swiss found it better than this.
On the third day I joined Ed and George B. while Mike Westmacott went sick. We tried a new line near the centre of the icefall and for a thousand feet made steep but safe progress and then we hit a crumbling shattered area, where huge blocks rocked and toppled on touch. We went on until a huge serac hung over the only route like a great combing wave. We decided the original route was better and today we carried up our bedding while three Sherpas carried the primus stove, two Meade tents, a walkie-talkie wireless (9 lbs) and two days food. I was really impressed with the route, which contains ‘Mike’s Horror’ and ‘Hillary’s Horror’ – two ticklish se
ctions which each overcame on the reconnaissance of the route. The upper part is very shattered and rather menaced by overhanging ice and just below this tiny safe area where we have the tents there has been a subsidence since yesterday.
As I came up to this place I saw that yesterday’s tracks ended at a crevasse lip. I stepped back off the lip, which looked solid, and gave it a heavy belt with the axe to hear for possible creaks, when the whole thing about 8 feet long and 3 feet wide dropped away at my feet and left me with the back spikes of my crampons holding the firm lip. After two hours in the icefall we were keyed for this and apart from one widening crevasse, which took a running leap, we reached here about 2 p.m.
Ahead of us there appears a tremendous tangle of cliffs and towers and we wonder if we’ll get a route through to the Western Cwm tomorrow. We begin to realise now why the Swiss got into the Cwm (pronounced Coom) last year and stayed there until their attempt ran down. There’s no getting away from it, the Khumbu icefall is a nasty spot.
At 5 p.m. we are going to call up base on the walkie-talkie phone. If this works it will be invaluable. It consists of a box little bigger than a telephone with a telephone mouth-piece and an earphone. Three light batteries are plugged into the box – a light 6 ft spring steel aerial is plugged in and you’re away. With fixed frequency, you merely switch on the power, push a button to speak and release it to listen. So far they have worked wonderfully well.
Letters From Everest Page 4