by Andrew Greig
The ‘Unclimbed Ridge’ was the necessary dream. We always knew we might well not climb it, but we came and froze and sweated and had our frights because only that dream can yield those moments of waking we value above everything when experience comes; Experience, intensified, capitalized, absolute.
I throw away the cigarette, watch its red eye briefly light up a stone, then crawl back inside my tent, for the first time truly accepting the outcome. I’m deeply glad to have been here, a dozen tiny kingdoms of warmth and light camped briefly in the dark lap of Chomolungma, Goddess Mother of the World, set free by our own insignificance.
* * *
Leaving Lhasa before dawn, our coach moves through the city as we loll back in our seats, vacant, receptive and passive in our half-asleep state. There are bonfires lit at intervals alongside the streets, and a long procession of black figures filing silently past them. The fires flare as each tosses a cupful of yak butter on to the flames, and by the light we can see everyone is carrying bundles of herbs or twigs. Sweet smoke drifts in the coach window. This procession goes on for miles; they’re honouring the dead, Jack thinks, honouring memory.
The half-light of dawn filters through as we leave the city. Images of fire, silhouetted stooping figures, smoke drifting over pale water. A three-quarter moon sets behind the draped hills. Then two poplar trees, a single star, a yak-skin raft drifting down the Tsang Po. The dark forms of my huddled companions. The glowing tip of Malcolm’s cigarette as he dreams another dream with Liz’s head on his shoulder.
1 These passages are derived by kind permission of the Alpine Journal 1986, from Mal Duff’s article therein.
2 The hope of returning that autumn came to nothing, partly because of problems of money and logistics and partly because of the unavailability of most of the team.
Epilogue
During the months spent writing this account, I have read the diaries so often, stared at thousands of slides, and run the events backwards and forwards so many times that it no longer seems to matter in what order they occurred. I see the entirety of our trip as one static whole, just as we could see the entirety of the North-East Ridge from Advance Base Camp. There our eyes could jump from the Pinnacles to 7090 to the summit. In our venture any moment now seems as significant as any other, and what it was all about is as much in the middle as in the curious, hiccuping ending.
That is the fundamental reason why the terms ‘success’ and ‘failure’, though deeply felt, are inappropriate.
I put Allen Fyffe’s first diary entry ‘I’m writing this in Peking but this is how it really started’ alongside Malcolm’s last one, ‘Desperate weather but Chris and Bob and Nick and Rick safely off with all gear thank God’. On the wall, the photo of Mal and myself in Rawalpindi is pinned next to the last picture Rick took from his high point on the 1st Pinnacle. If one carried on like this, alternatively working backwards from the end and forwards from the beginning, at what unexpected summit would they meet?
They would meet about midnight on the evening of laughter in the Mess Tent at Base Camp when we first wrote ‘The Ballad of the North-East Ridge’ while the lamps wavered, the whisky went round, and we finally sang the whole song through from the beginning:
We-e-ll the Mustagh Tower was over,
The ropes had all been sold or coiled away,
We were sitting in Mrs Davies’
While the monsoon rain fell day by day by day by day. …
Laughter and harmonious unharmonious voices ring and fade in the Everest night. As good a place to begin or end as any.
The Ballad of the North-East Ridge
(To the tune of ‘Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts’)
The Mustagh Tower was over, the ropes had all been sold or coiled away,
We were sitting in Mrs Davies’ while monsoon rains fell day by day,
We were thinking about bacon, we were dreaming about beans,
We were talking of our women and the things that we had seen,
We were thinking about everything except for the North-East Ridge.
Then Voytek he came over with his intensely European gaze.
We were joined by a Norwegian, seemed like his friends were blown away,
They were climbing up on Trango Peak, on the way down disappeared,
There was nothing much that we could say but what was really weird
Was they still had a permit, for Everest, for the North-East Ridge.
I went away for cigarettes, when I came back Malcolm looked at me,
‘Want to go to Everest, Andy? You can be my security.’
I knew that he was joking, so I just said ‘Why not?
But I didn’t think you were interested in Everest such a lot’–
He said ‘I’m very interested in the “unclimbed”, the North-East Ridge.’
On the back of an old envelope we wrote down the makings of a team,
The Mustagh Tower 4 again, that was the kind of trip that it had been.
There was tiny Tony Brindle, revving from his toes up to his head
He was like a little battery, 90 per cent lead –
He was willing to spark anywhere, even on the North-East Ridge.
There was smiling Sandy Allan, that amiable Hieland honey bear,
A man open to every ploy, he looked for his honey everywhere.
‘Climbing isn’t dangerous,’ he once told me with a grin,
‘You open your eyes wide, and then you jump right in.’
But he’d never seen a jest bigger than the North-East Ridge.
We had to have Jon Tinker, that abrasive Cockney Rastaman,
He said ‘Duff you walk on water, you’re an appalling disgusting lucky man.
I’ll go with you to 8,000 and then kiss you goodbye,
It’ll be a piece of piss, you’re all gonna die –
But yes I’m coming with you, to Everest to the North-East Ridge.’
We drove down to see Bonehead on a windy rainy Lakeland day.
We had an hour of his time, you could tell that for more you’d have to pay.
He said ‘That old North-East Ridge led us a tragic dance,
And the print-out on my computer says you haven’t got a chance,
But yes you should go for it, for Everest and the North-East Ridge.’
When it comes to expeditions, everyone around here knows the score.
First we needed money, then we needed more and more and more
Liz said ‘Terry Dailey is a man who needs a change.
Terry we need a hundred grand, can it be arranged?’
He said ‘Liz you leave it with me, ’cos I’m coming to the North-East Ridge.’
Meanwhile the terrible twins had just flown in from Nepal,
Nick had lost some more toes, now you only need one hand to count them all.
Ricky said to Nicky, ‘Hey you know this could be good,
I will be the driving force and you can do the food –
And that should book our passage, with Sarah, to the North-East Ridge.’
About this time in Aviemore two cowboys were climbing on the range.
Bob said to Allen, ‘One more client I go insane!’
But Allen’s hair was falling out and there didn’t seem much hope.
Then there came a phone call and it threw them a rope
Which pulled them clear of Glenmore Lodge to Everest and the North-East Ridge.
In a dirty dive in London town, ‘One pint’ was chucking up again,
It had been a hard hard day in Alpine Sports, and Sonja was climbing on the Ben,
And when some 4 weeks later Wattie finally sobered up
He remembered what he’d promised when he’d been feeling rough,
To beg, borrow, steal our gear for Everest and the North-East Ridge.
Meanwhile back in Aberdeen a red beard is munching marzipan,
When it came to buying hill-food, Andy Nisbet had to be our man.
He was tired of doing new routes an
d being disbelieved
So he was glad when the invite was finally received
To come and do a new route – Everest, the North-East Ridge.
In a little town in Switzerland, Urs listened to the ticking of his clocks.
‘If I can’t cut up someone soon, I’m going to go out of my box!’
He knew a lot of mountain medicine but it all came down to this,
‘If you’re feeling bad go down, and always trink and piss’ –
He had to be our doctor for Everest, for the North-East Ridge.
For a golden cheque book, we took along a man from Pilkington’s.
We got David Bricknell, an upward-mobile company man.
He organized in London, organized in Liverpool,
He gave us cooking rotas and he gave us Base Camp rules –
But he saved our skins in Lhasa, en route to the North-East Ridge.
These days it ain’t enough to climb it, you’ve got to get it down in celluloid.
When it comes to high-up movies there’s just one team you can’t avoid.
We’d met with Kurt and Julie in Skardu waiting for a plane
And it seemed pretty obvious they’d come along again
To film us at play on Everest, on the North-East Ridge.
To carry gear at altitude you need a special kind of man.
Julie thought of someone … then she thought of Desperate Dan.
A noted master baker and quick man with a sketch.
Julie said ‘Please carry,’ Kurt said simply ‘Fetch!
And don’t drop ze Arriflex on Everest on the North-East Ridge.’
There’s rumours going round that altitude damages your brain,
All I know is since we set out, nothing’s been quite the same.
If you want to know the details or take a closer look,
Come on to the lectures or else you buy the book …
About the time we had on Everest, on the North-East Ridge.
MEMBERS OF THE 1985 PILKINGTON EVEREST EXPEDITION
Rick Allen Lead climber, b. Middlesex 1955, Senior Operations Engineer with Texaco. Took a degree in chemical engineering at Birmingham University and joined The Stoats’ mountaineering club. Rock climbing and later winter climbing became increasingly important and after graduating in 1976 he moved to Scotland. Early Alpine seasons led on to Mt. Kenya (West Ridge and Diamond Couloir), then the Scottish Garwhal Himalaya Expeditions (first ascent, solo, of Kisti Stambh, 20,570 ft) 1984, Alpine-style first ascent of South Face Ganesh II with Nick Kekus. Alpine ascents include S. E. face of Pilastro di Roges, N.W. face Gletscherhorn, W. face Blaitiere, N. face Dru, N. face direct Les Droites (winter), N. faces of the Courtes and the Triolet, solo in winter. Member of the Etchachan Club, the Midland Association of Mountaineers, A.C.G.
‘I remain firmly convinced that an Alpine-style ascent from below the 1st Pinnacle without oxygen is possible and that within a very few years the approach pioneered by Pete and Joe, which I attempted to follow, will be vindicated on the North-East Ridge of Everest.’
Sandy Allan Expedition Deputy Leader, lead climber, b. Inverness 1955. Worked as lambing shepherd, tractor driver, trainee distillery manager; now climbs, guides and works as a roughneck in North Sea oil exploration. Many new winter routes in Scotland, including early Grade 6 climbs with Andy Nisbet. Alpine routes include N. face of the Dru, face Droites direct (winter), super Couloir Mt. Maudit (winter) 1st British ascent N. face Mt. Gruetta. Expeditions to Nuptse West Ridge ’82, Thamaserku West Ridge ’82, Mustagh Tower ’84. Member of Club Alpine Francais, S.M.C., A.C.G., Eagle Ski Club.
‘After Everest thoughts come sometimes, but when it comes to writing it, feels like ego-tripping and really I find I’m totally out of that. … After Everest, to Gangapurna on North Face Expedition, learned a lot there. Mainly that I really wanted to be there, in that situation, in control even as our tent got ripped apart and Toni, Paul and I hung on freezing. But me so much in control … over the top with control, totally nil emotions at the time … just being, with the wind, the gods of destructions, chewing salami, hoping they’d let us off with it … Ace! We’re all home, all alive, all working together, partying together, climbing together, good friends – how it should be.’
Dave Bricknell Base and Advance Base Camp organizer, b. 1948. Educated at Exeter School and Exeter University (Law). Married with two children. Company Secretary for Pilkington Brothers plc after four years in the City. Fell-walker but with no experience of climbing, no first ascents, no Alpine or Himalayan experience. An armchair adventurer!
‘I came back from the trip with an enormous sense of gratitude: to my wife and children who were genuinely excited by my “adventure” despite the worry it must have caused them; to the Directors of Pilkington for having the generosity to give me extended leave; to the rest of the team for accepting me as part of the team and not just a corporate interloper.
‘When I first returned to the office I wondered if I’d ever be the same again. It was fun being a “celebrity” – but it didn’t last. It was worrying not being able to concentrate on the job and having an appalling memory (had I sustained irretrievable brain damage at altitude?) – but it didn’t last. I savoured the delights of a bath, mild English rain and the lush scenery – but it didn’t last.
‘The trip confirmed my love affair with the mountains, and I have a renewed determination to go back again, but it did not become an all-devouring passion. So many people said “it must have been the experience of a lifetime”. Not so. It was an experience of a lifetime, a tremendous emotional experience to store and treasure with such memories as watching the birth of my children, signing my first major company deal, finishing my first marathon and passing my Law Finals, but it did not overwhelm them. It was a part of my life but not, I hope, the climax, and has left the feeling of gratitude to Fate that I have been given the opportunity to have those experiences, and a reinforcing of the view that no dream is too remote if you work for it and take the opportunities as they come.
‘And I’ve been bitten by the bug of Scottish winter climbing – perhaps I will never be quite as sane again.’
Bob Barton. Lead climber, b. Barnsley, Yorkshire, 1948. Married with two children. Educated Broadway Grammar school, Fitzwilliam College, Cambridge (BA Natural Sciences), University College of North Wales, Bangor (PGCE Outdoor Education and Physics). Now instructor at Glenmore Lodge Outdoor Training Centre, Avie-more. Began climbing in the Peak District. Numerous first ascents in Scotland and extensive climbing and skiing in Europe. 1972 expedition to Hindu Kush, five first ascents of peaks up to 6,000 metres; ’73 Western Alps, first British ascents N. Face Lauterbrunnen Breithorn and N. Face Nesthorn (with Peter Boardman); ’74, first winter ascent Quille Couloir. ’76, ascent of W. Rib of Mt McKinley; ’77, first ascent W. Face Batian Direct Route, Mt. Kenya, first ascent Heim Glacier Direct Route, Kilimanjaro (with D. Morris); ’78, first ascent of S. Pillar of Kalanka (with Allen Fyffe); ’80, Cordillera Blanca, ascents of Alpamaya, N. Bayacocha (with A. Fyffe); ’82, first ascent of S. W. Pillar of Bhaghirathi III (with A. Fyffe). Coauthor of ‘A Chance in a Million?’, a handbook on avalanches in Scotland.
Tony Brindle Lead climber, b. 1959. Qualified as a mechanical fitter, now attending Bangor Normal College for an honours degree in Environmental Studies/Outdoor Education. An enthusiast of free climbing, aid climbing, winter mountaineering and ski-mountaineering. Extensive rock climbing in Britain, also Yosemite, Eldorado and France. Ten winter seasons in Britain and six Alpine, climbing many of the classic routes and some new ones. Solo ascents of W. face of Mt. Barrille and W. Buttress of Mt. McKinley. Mustagh Tower ascent ’84. Member Achille Retty Climbing Club, A.C.G.
‘I learnt an awful lot from the trip – and I enjoyed the Expedition – don’t enjoy the general assumptions people have of “an Everest man”. What’s wrong with being an ordinary bumbly anyway? I am not keen on large expeditionary forces, but I did enjoy observing the way such a team operates under
stress. I feel the route will be done by a small, competent team supported by high-altitude porters to Camp 4. I would go back as part of such a team, without oxygen, but also without summit ambitions – I don’t feel the risk is justified to climb the Pinnacles over two days and then continue, still above 8,000 metres without oxygen – my brain doesn’t require much anyway, but it does need a little every now and then!
‘One of my best moments was seeing Liz at Camp 2 where she’d carried a load in support of us – quite humbling, really. Another was going off for the Pinnacles from Camp 4 after the effort of enlarging it the previous day. I was finally out front – treading ground where only thoughts had trod since ’82. …’
Terry Dailey Business manager, co-ordinator, support climber, b. Stockport 1951. Married with one daughter, Amy Everest. Strategic planner with largest advertising agency in UK after graduating as a chemical engineer. Took up climbing seriously in 1975; several Alpine and Scottish seasons, one trip to Himalayas and High Atlas Mountains of Morocco. Two new routes in N. Wales, with Mal Duff. Fairly accomplished busking guitarist, great bass player, terrible singer. Has dabbled in most dangerous sports, particularly hang-gliding and potholing.