The Everest Politics Show

by Mark Horrell

  Phil also believes he may have seen Irvine’s body during one of his many climbs of Everest from the north.

  ‘There was a piece of tweed on my right as I came down from the Exit Cracks,’ he says. The Exit Cracks are a series of rocky slabs at a point where the route leaves the North-East Ridge and diverts down the North Face.

  There is a chance Irvine’s body is lying on the North Face in roughly that location. But Phil’s sighting also tallies with the position of the 1933 Everest team’s high camp. Eric Shipton and Frank Smythe made their summit attempt from there, and Smythe described seeing a UFO on the way down (I suspect he was using faulty oxygen apparatus, powered by some local herb). It’s more likely Phil saw the remains of their camp instead of Sandy Irvine’s body.

  Later in the evening a lama (monk) arrives from Pangboche. He has come to conduct our puja in the morning, and after dinner Dorje tells Phil he has agreed to let the lama sleep in the communications tent.

  We are still without 3G or satellite connectivity.

  ‘Can he bless the BGAN while he’s in there,’ we ask.

  Day 11 – The puja

  Sunday, 13 April 2014 – Everest Base Camp, Nepal

  Peter, a 61-year-old lawyer, arrives at breakfast this morning and sits down with a puzzled look on his face.

  ‘Has anyone else been experiencing strange dreams?’ he asks.

  Many people have vivid dreams at high altitude when they are still acclimatising. There are various theories why this happens, but the most likely reason is broken sleep. You keep waking up, and dreams remain fresh in your mind.

  There are a few nods around the table as we wait for Peter to continue.

  ‘I dreamt that I was driving along the freeway when a police officer pulled alongside and signalled for me to pull over. The cop came to the window and asked for my licence, and whether I’d been drinking. I looked up and saw Phil Crampton in a policeman’s uniform. “No need to take me to the station, officer,” I replied. “I’m guilty as hell.”’

  ‘Don’t tell me,’ Jay says. ‘Then a red light started flashing, and Phil began singing “YMCA”?’

  Peter shakes his head. ‘Nothing like that. Or if there was, I woke up while Phil still had his clothes on.’

  Our puja begins straight after breakfast. It’s a beautiful morning, and our Sherpas have erected a puja platform beneath a hillside of moraine. The setting is dramatic for a monk to chant prayers, looking across the glacier to Nuptse. The lama from Pangboche has one of our kitchen crew, Phu Dorje, as his assistant. We are told Phu Dorje once trained as a monk in an earlier life.

  These ceremonies to appease the mountain gods before a climb can last for a long time. This morning the lama keeps it relatively short, and chants for perhaps an hour before asking our Sherpas to erect the prayer flags. They raise a flagpole above the puja platform and string rows of flags from the pole like bunting, extending to the four corners of camp.

  Raising the prayer flags, with the West Shoulder behind

  We stand up and throw rice into the air. We’re supposed to throw it three times, an auspicious number, but I lose count of the number of tosses and just keep following the lama.

  Then we line up for a blessing, taking it in turns to kneel in front of him. He ties necklaces with mini books of prayers around our necks, which we are meant to keep on for the rest of the expedition, even when we sleep.

  Then the ceremony is over and the lama moves on to his next appointment with another team. For our Sherpas this is a signal for the drinking to start. It’s not even ten o’clock, and a Tuborg beer is thrust into my hand.

  Tarke lurks with a bottle of Khukri Rum, urging each of us to down shots, which he pours into the cap. We have to take them in threes because (guess what), three is an auspicious number. Pasang Nima hovers with a big kettle of chang and a clutch of tin mugs. This is a local rice beer that resembles milk, but is rather more potent. He is a small man, but immensely powerful on the mountain, and we call him the Pocket Rocket. This morning he reveals a different quality – an elfin ability to appear from nowhere as soon as my mug is empty, and refill it before I have time to protest. I spend much of the morning trying to hide behind a rock whenever I see him, but usually he spots me. A few times my chang ‘accidentally’ finds its way onto the ground, but I soon realise this is a futile manoeuvre. The Pocket Rocket is always quick to notice, and eventually I discover the only way to avoid his chang is to hold a cup full to the brim at all times.

  In the middle of this mayhem Robert appears with his trekking friend Scott. They have just completed their trek into the Gokyo Valley and crossed the Cho La pass. They may have been expecting a low-key welcome when they reached Base Camp, but as soon as we realise they are here, we begin whooping and cheering.

  Robert is a teetotaller and Scott is only here for the trek. Technically Scott isn’t required to appease the mountain gods by drinking, but he doesn’t know this. Ian convinces him that Robert needs a proxy to drink on his behalf or the gods will be angry. Scott is a good-natured character, and finds himself unable to refuse.

  ‘I can’t remember the last time I was drunk before noon,’ Peter says to me during a quiet moment.

  When I was on the north side of Everest in 2012, our puja lasted all day, but this time it fizzles out at lunchtime. In the afternoon I retire to my tent for some sleep, but the Sherpas continue their celebrations.

  Later in the afternoon Phil is summoned to resolve a dispute. They are due to do a load carry into the Khumbu Icefall tomorrow. One of them, Ang Gelu, refuses to join in because Margaret has hired him as her personal Sherpa. He believes this should exempt him from carrying some of the group equipment.

  But there are several personal Sherpas on the team this year. Among the Lhotse climbers, Margaret is the only one who has hired a personal Sherpa. Ang Gelu will climb with her at all times, but the rest of us will only climb with a Sherpa on summit day. Most of the time we will be climbing on our own.

  The Everest team have paid for a different level of service. They have all been assigned a personal Sherpa, and will even have a second Sherpa climbing with them on summit day too.

  Cynics will say they need a second Sherpa to carry them up, but this is disingenuous. Nobody gets carried up Everest, and statements like this betray a lack of understanding. Whatever the level of support, you’ve got to get up on your own two feet. It’s safer for Sherpas to climb two to a client. If anything should go wrong in that extreme environment, there are more resources to call upon. Of course, it also helps the Sherpa community, as it means more jobs for them.

  But in truth I believe this is more than any competent climber needs. Two personal Sherpas on summit day is a new thing. It is one of the many ‘luxuries’ pushing the price of Everest expeditions up to unaffordable levels.

  Ang Gelu’s stance is not popular with the other Sherpas who have been assigned to members of the Everest team. They will be doing their share of load carrying too. Phil takes their side and threatens to fine Ang Gelu unless he toes the line.

  This upsets Margaret. She believes Ang Gelu should be treated as a special case because she is paying extra for him. If she paid extra, why should we be making use of him when we did not pay?

  I can see her point as far as the other Lhotse climbers are concerned. We have paid a mere $20,000 to be here, but the Everest climbers have paid a whopping $45,000 – far more than any of us, Margaret included.

  But there are other considerations too. It’s fine for some people to pay more for a better level of service, as long as it doesn’t affect the service of those who have paid less. If Ang Gelu has angered the other Sherpas, who perceive him to be getting away with doing less work, then they in turn may wonder why they work so hard.

  I may not have paid as much as the others, but I have still paid an awful lot of money. I want to climb with a happy Chongba on summit day, not an aggrieved Chongba.

  Ultimately, we are a team. Some people can dig deeper into their poc
kets, and they expect more from the team because they paid more money for their expedition. But the well-being of the team as a whole matters more; this should take priority and shape decisions.

  But of course, I don’t have to carry a huge load up the mountain like Ang Gelu, so I guess I would say that.

  We have to trust Phil and Dorje to make decisions about Sherpa dynamics. One of the reasons we climb with Altitude Junkies is because they have a great Sherpa crew.

  I am sorry to hear Ang Gelu has been the cause of tension, because I like him. I had a good chat with him at the puja. Two years ago he helped my friend Mark Dickson, who is prone to frostbite, to reach the summit of Everest. Ang Gelu clipped and unclipped Mark from every anchor so that he didn’t have to remove his gloves. When I was struggling to climb a difficult section of the Second Step, it was Ang Gelu who climbed above me and proffered a hand to help me up. So I too have him to thank for my summit success. It’s something I won’t forget.

  Day 12 – Ladder training

  Monday, 14 April 2014 – Everest Base Camp, Nepal

  I have another good night’s sleep and feel like I’m starting to get over my little illness. As I get ready for eight o’clock breakfast I go for a pee, and see Phil, Dorje and Ang Gelu fixing two ladders over a stream below camp. They are making preparations for a ladder training session after breakfast. Ang Gelu was meant to be carrying a fifteen-kilogram load up the Khumbu Icefall this morning. I conclude that Margaret must have won her argument with Phil.

  You may wonder why such a training session is necessary. Any fool can climb a ladder, after all. But speed is of the essence when moving through the treacherous terrain of the Khumbu Icefall. It’s not so easy to climb a series of ladders strapped together, that flex beneath you as you stare into a yawning crevasse. Crampons don’t make it any easier. There are ropes on either side to act as handrails, and there’s a certain technique to keeping them taut as you cross. You have to clip in and out of them at each anchor point. Climbers who have not mastered these techniques keep everyone waiting as they edge across nervously, or fumble with their carabiner as they clip in and out of the rope. With towers of ice that threaten to collapse, snow bridges in danger of melting, and regular avalanches from the mountains on either side, the Khumbu Icefall is not a place to linger for too long.

  After breakfast we unpack our boots, crampons and harness/jumar rigs, and go onto the ice. The training is straightforward. We cross a pair of horizontal ladders, climb a pair of vertical ladders tied together, then traverse back down again. I haven’t had much practice crossing ladders while wearing crampons, so it’s a good confidence booster for me.

  Ladder practice on the Khumbu Glacier

  Ricardo seems as healthy as the rest of us, but after lunch he tells us he needs to have his blood pressure checked at the Himalayan Rescue Association (HRA) medical facility at the other end of camp. The HRA is a charity founded in the 1970s with the aim of reducing illness in the mountains of Nepal. Since 2003 it has maintained a temporary health clinic at Everest Base Camp during the climbing season, staffed entirely by volunteer doctors and nurses. It’s known affectionately as Everest ER, and we’ve all paid a contribution this year to make use of its services should we need them.

  Ricardo seems to be popular with the ladies (as most musicians are), and has therefore acquired the reputation as the team Casanova. When he announces that he’ll be visiting the hospital, it’s the signal for more ribald humour.

  ‘Are you sure you’re ill, Ricardo, or are you just going to check the nurses out?’

  ‘If you’re looking to raise your blood pressure, you can save yourself a walk. Robert has some Viagra.’

  It snows for most of the afternoon. The sky remains overcast, but just before dinner the clouds lift, providing our mountain amphitheatre with a vast open roof. This makes for a bitterly cold evening, but it also gives us a few moments to contemplate the panorama all around us. The sun touches Changtse on the Tibetan side of the Lho La, bathing the rocks in an orange glow. Then it falls from the sky and plunges us into darkness.

  Day 13 – A walk to Pumori Base Camp

  Tuesday, 15 April 2014 – Everest Base Camp, Nepal

  I’ve had a few days of rest now, so today I decide to make my first journey out of Base Camp since arriving here. It’s a clear morning, and after breakfast I set out with Louis, Ian, Kevin and Caroline to trek up to Pumori Base Camp. Somewhere a couple of hundred metres above Everest Base Camp, I’ve been told there is a viewpoint where we can gaze right into the Western Cwm.

  We begin by following the trail back to Gorak Shep until we reach the moraine ridge. Robert, who has been to Pumori Base Camp, told me to look for a path on the right at this point, underneath a giant boulder. I see nothing obvious, and end up guessing the route. I turn out to be wrong. Almost immediately we find ourselves scrambling up a steep bank of scree. By the time we reach the top we are all exhausted and have to stop for a few deep breaths.

  Still we can see no obvious path, though there are several small cairns that lead us across boulder fields. Like Robert, Louis has been to Pumori Base Camp before, but he doesn’t seem to be any clearer about the route than I am.

  We wander around for ten to fifteen minutes until we see an Adventure Consultants group – another expedition operator – amble past some distance to our right. They are being led by one of their Sherpas, who clearly knows the way.

  We follow behind them for a while, and when they stop, Kevin and then Louis are able to take up the trail. There is some boulder-hopping, but also places where the terrain is firmer. After an hour and a half we reach a large bench-like rock on a flatter area of moraine matted with grass. Here Louis stops.

  ‘We are at Pumori Base Camp,’ he says.

  I look back, and let out a whistle. Although we can’t quite see right into the Western Cwm as promised, it doesn’t matter. This is the closest I have come to the classic, picture-postcard view of Everest above the Khumbu Icefall, and I have to pinch myself.

  Everest peeps up behind the West Shoulder as the tangled mass of crumbling ice that is the Khumbu Icefall spills into the valley beneath us. Lhotse appears distant at its top end, a strange mix of ice and black rock the shape of a cowboy hat. It stands at the end of the corridor, and attracts my fascination in a different way to Everest, which towers over it to the left. Lhotse is the peak we hope to climb, after all.

  I’ve seen a similar view many times in photographs, but this is the first time I’ve looked at it for real. Louis is the only one of us to have climbed Everest from the south, so he explains the route up, and the position of camps on the Lhotse Face. It looks horribly steep, but we are viewing it head on, which always makes it look worse than it is.

  To the left we can see Everest’s North Col, where we camped two years ago. The North Ridge, our old route of ascent, is still hidden behind the West Shoulder. The vast North Face slants away from us, appearing as just a narrow sliver of rock from this angle. We stay for about fifteen minutes contemplating this spacious amphitheatre of mountains, but it’s a little chilly, so at eleven o’clock we head down again.

  Admiring Everest, Lhotse and Nuptse from Pumori Base Camp

  Just before we rejoin the main trail we meet Margaret and Edita on their way up. They delayed their departure to assist with the evacuation of a Chinese climber. The sky has been alive with helicopters this morning. A surprising number of climbers are being evacuated after reaching Base Camp too quickly and ending up with altitude sickness.

  As we look out over this tented village between steep mountain walls, Margaret makes a casual remark.

  ‘There are less than half as many tents as there were in 2011, when I was last here.’

  This becomes the subject of discussion when we return to Base Camp for lunch. We already talked about the situation with Lukla flights when we were in Namche with Siling. The shortage of flights may have reduced the number of trekkers in the Khumbu region, but Everest climbers are differ
ent. If you are paying thousands of dollars for your expedition, the flights become a minor problem which you find a solution for, even if it means paying a little more. Flights aren’t the reason there are fewer climbers here this year.

  Phil believes last year’s fight between Sherpas and western climbers, and the media storm that accompanied it, has put many people off. I believe the drip feed of absurd announcements by the Nepalese government has also had an adverse effect.

  These silly announcements have included stationing police and army at Base Camp to keep the peace between Sherpas and westerners. This provision is supposed to be put in place this year, but we are all sceptical whether it will actually happen. It includes putting a liaison officer at Base Camp to ‘constrain bizarre records’ and ensure none of us engage in any madcap stunts. The liaison officer will have a challenging time of it this year. The Discovery Channel have already announced they will be sending a large film crew to Base Camp to make a documentary about the extreme sportsman Joby Ogwyn. Ogwyn intends to climb to the summit and jump off in a wingsuit, like a flying squirrel.

  We have been told that helicopter flights will be restricted to medical emergencies only, and that we each have to carry eight kilograms of trash down from the high camps. There has been talk of installing a ladder on the Hillary Step to make it easier for everyone (or ‘ease congestion’).

  Each announcement created its own shower of media vitriol, tarnishing Everest in the eyes of potential visitors. But Robert believes they won’t have had much impact.