There is something to be said for persistence. After two previous attempts to climb Cho Oyu had failed, I returned to my nemesis to try again. With a great deal of luck and good fortune, I was finally successful on my third attempt. Maybe it was just good karma, maybe something else, but I feel immensely fortunate in having succeeded. Climbing an 8000-meter mountain is an enormous undertaking. It requires a substantial amount of preparation and conditioning and it requires sacrifices that one would not make in trying to climb a lesser mountain. Most people can never understand what is required, since it goes against their nature to try such things. I am certainly not eloquent enough to convey what is required, or even to give a good feel for what it is like to climb such a mountain. I can only say that the attempts to climb it and my eventual success has forever shaped how I view such climbs. I am very fortunate to have someone in my life who may not fully understand my obsession, for it borders on obsession, but can at least understand why I do such things. In this I am truly blessed. Not only did I have to make sacrifices in trying to achieve my goal, but Melva had to sacrifice as well. Climbing Cho Oyu forced me to face myself and all my weaknesses, both physically and mentally, and helped me to appreciate all that I have.
I don’t know how many people have since asked me what it was like to climb “Everest”, as if all Himalayan mountains are Everest. Almost in the same breath, they ask if I had a good time. Those are the people that could never understand what it was like, so I usually just smile and say, “I had a great time!”. Or, to someone with a glimmer of understanding, I may say, “It was a lot of work”. For most people, there is a romantic notion about what it is like to go on a mountaineering expedition. I’m sure they imagine traipsing off to Shangri-La with blue skies and warm weather, while, between sips of mint juleps, you climb the mountain. Mountaineering expeditions to the high mountains of the world are an exercise is being uncomfortable and learning to live with it. Humans really aren’t meant to spend much time above 18,000 feet, and the mountain lets you know it. You usually feel miserable, you probably won’t sleep or eat well, but you learn to tolerate it. It is a situation that only a mountaineer can appreciate. It is an exercise in being far out of your “comfort zone” and putting up with it in order to achieve a higher goal (no pun intended).
Most non-mountaineers, and even a few who are familiar with the fourteeners in Colorado, cannot fathom why it takes six weeks to climb a mountain. “Can’t you just go and hike up it?” is a common comment. The time required to acclimatize is a concept they have a difficult time appreciating. Also, it’s hard to convey just how large these mountains are, and how high. Climbing 2500 vertical feet, which is what we did on summit day, may not seem like much, especially when you consider that is about the vertical distance up the Manitou Incline (my favorite training spot), but it is a huge distance at that altitude. It takes me under 40 minutes to do that distance at 7000 feet, but it took around 8 hours at 25,000 feet. How can that difference be conveyed? Honestly, I think that this lack of understanding is what leads a lot of people to attempt to climb such high mountains, and why so many get a serious “wake up call” when they do. I will admit that I didn’t fully know what to expect on my first expedition to Cho Oyu, but by the third trip, I was fully cognizant of the “fun” I was in for. I think that having been defeated twice before helped me to truly appreciate what it takes to climb Cho Oyu.
The second most common questions are “What’s next?” or “Will you do Everest next?” To these I can only say, “We’ll see” or “I doubt it”. I chose Cho Oyu because of its relatively low subjective risks. Other, higher, mountains may just have more risk than I am willing to take. The other factor is cost. Climbs, such as Everest, tend to be much pricier than Cho Oyu. It took quite a bit of saving to afford the expeditions I was on, so unless I hit the lottery, I doubt that Everest is within my financial means.
A subject that raises some controversy in the climbing community is “guided” climbing. There is strong sense of animosity in some segments of the climbing community toward these types of arrangements. On each attempt, I have seen it in some degree or other. After hearing disparaging comments from the other expeditions, I can only conclude that most of this visceral response is through ignorance as to what a “guided” climb truly is. I have never met anyone on any of my expeditions that was not capable of climbing the mountain or shouldn’t have been there. On the contrary, the success ratio seems to be much higher on the guided expeditions than the “regular” ones. For those of us who do not have the time or connections to arrange the logistics of such a large expedition, they provide the best means of being able to climb. Also, I’ve found it difficult, if not impossible, to find climbing partners who can take off for six weeks at a time to go climb a mountain. Good guide services, like Eric’s IMG and Russell Brice’s group, gather like-minded climbers together and give everyone a “fighting chance” of making it to the top. Also, since there is a recognized leader, there is none of the infighting and fragmentation I’ve seen ruin other expeditions. Obviously, I’m biased, but I believe they provide a needed service for those who aren’t full-time climbers.
The following narrative consists of excerpts from my diary and recollections from my third expedition to Cho Oyu. In my laziness, I didn’t write much. By the third time, climbing the mountain didn’t have the new and exciting qualities as it did the first time. I had a more business-like and focused approach to what I was doing. I didn’t have any expectations of success, only the concentration and persistence of knowing that I would do my best to accomplish as much as possible.
8/22 Colorado Springs to Bangkok
The trip started out on a stressful note when United canceled the flight between Denver and L.A. while we were sitting in the plane. Fortunately, there was another flight I was able to get on. Now I just have to worry about whether my baggage will arrive or not. They promised that they would transfer them. I can only wait and see. On the last trip my baggage did not make it to Kathmandu with me and I spent a very anxious day waiting for it to arrive. It wasn’t a pleasant experience knowing that my expedition could be ruined so suddenly.
Even with the delay, I still managed to make the Thai Airways flight to Bangkok. It was delayed by an hour in L.A., which gave me a little breathing room to make the flight. I met Tap Richards and Heidi Eichner, our two guides, at the L.A. airport. I also met John Matthews, a fellow climber who is from Telluride. By the time we got to Tokyo, we had joined up with Greg Yanagihara, the third climber in the group, as well as Matt and Jasmine (pronounced Yasmin), two of the trekkers. Everyone appears to be in good shape, and it promises to be a good expedition. Jasmine was from Bosnia and is now a systems designer for Intel. He should have some great stories to tell to help pass the time.
8/24 Bangkok to Kathmandu
For a change, we decided to stay at the Amari hotel in the Bangkok airport rather than the Louis Tavern day rooms. Besides being more comfortable, they ended up being less expensive, even when you add in the cost of the airport exit tax. Both John and Matt had their baggage checked to Bangkok, so they were forced to retrieve it and put it on the flight to Kathmandu. For anyone planning such a trip – check your bags all the way to Kathmandu – it saves a lot of hassle. I shared a room with Greg, who I will share many more hotel rooms with. Once you pair up with someone, you usually end up with that person for the rest of the trip. Greg is a likable, easy-going guy, so it is okay.
Our Sherpas and Kiron, a representative from Great Escapes, the trekking agency who arranges the logistics for the expedition, met us at the Kathmandu airport. Much to my surprise and delight, Pemba, our cooking Sherpa from the two previous expeditions was there to greet us. Also there was Kami, who was on last year’s expedition and who was going to be the Sirdar (head Sherpa) on this expedition.
When we arrived at the Hotel Tibet in Lazimpat, it was like coming home. A number of the people working there, including the owner, remembered me from last year. It made it that much more special and welcome.
We met up with Kris and Lydia Jett, a mother and daughter pair of trekkers. Kris is a doctor from Bend, Oregon and Lydia is on her way to school in London. Matt is also from Bend and is a co-worker of Kris’s. Kris is a veteran trekker, having barely survived a rigorous trek through the Khumbu region last year. She is also an avid photographer.
8/25 Kathmandu
This morning we went to Boudha, an area on the outskirts of Kathmandu, for the traditional blessing by a Buddhist monk in preparation for the climb. Boudha is the site of a large Buddhist stupa, or temple, Boudhanath. It is the center point of the Boudha area. Even if you don’t share the same Buddhist beliefs as the Sherpas, I think it is nice to take part in some of their customs. It shows our respect for them. Besides, additional blessings can only help. The ceremony was held in the monk’s private apartment and he was quite congenial. Part of the ceremony consists of having a string tied around your neck for good fortune. It is traditional to wear the string until the end of the expedition. This time, the string had a knot pendant attached, which added something special. It was a bright orange, which made it easy to spot. Unfortunately, it was not colorfast, so a lot of our travel clothes ended up being stained orange. He also puts a kata (silk scarf) around your neck. This is a traditional gift for travelers. I usually fold my up and keep it in my jacket pocket for luck. I’ve got quite a collection of them at home and they are all special reminders of my travels in Nepal and Tibet.
After the ceremony, we decided to walk from Boudhanath to Pashupatinath to visit the Hindu temple there. On the map it seemed like an easy walk and a good way to get out and see more of Kathmandu. The path weaved through alleys and fields until we finally reached the Pashupatinath area. It was an aromatic trip, as there is little in the way of sanitation or garbage removal in some areas. The path was also wet with recent rain. Close to Pashupatinath, there were some monkeys sitting on a wall that weren’t too thrilled about having their picture taken and made some aggressive moves to make their displeasure known.
In the markets around Pashupatinath, there were some brilliantly colored necklaces of flowers. While trying to take a picture of our group walking through this colorful marketplace, one of the free-roaming cows decided to take exception to my presence and came up behind me and not so subtly moved me out of the way with it’s horns, much to the amusement of the group. It would have been embarrassing to have to cancel the expedition and go home after being gored by a bull. Despite some sore ribs, I survived the experience and won’t regret having hamburgers and steak later!
One of the classic restaurants in Kathmandu is Mike’s Breakfast. It is run by an American expatriate and serves traditional American meals with a Nepalese twist. It’s also a great place to go when you want to reduce the chance of getting food sickness due to the strange foods you get elsewhere. Not wanting to be too adventurous, we ended up eating both lunch and dinner here. There are also a lot of good restaurants in Thamel, but no one was feeling up to venturing there to eat.
8/26 Kathmandu to Lhasa
One of the treats of flying from Kathmandu to Lhasa is that if the weather is clear, you can be treated to excellent views of the Himalayan mountains. We weren’t disappointed as we had reasonable views of Everest, Makalu, Cho Oyu, and an excellent view of Kangchenjunga (the third highest mountain in the world).
From the airport to Lhasa is a couple hours drive. In Lhasa we stayed at the Holy Swan hotel. It is a very new place that is still under construction. It is down the road from the hotel we stayed in on my last trip to Lhasa. It is evident by the large number of renovations and new hotels in Lhasa that the Chinese are expecting to increase the tourist appeal of Tibet. In the process, they are transforming much of the area into a stock Chinese city. In my view, it is losing the rustic Tibetan appeal that would make it attractive to tourists or those who want to experience the traditional Tibet. With the ever-present blue glass walls, it looks like everywhere else. They are effectively wiping out the Tibetan part of Lhasa and replacing it with modern blight. Most of the main “tourist” sidewalks are paved with multi-colored tiles. The traffic is still light, but there are still a remarkable number of cars and trucks running around Lhasa.
After we settled in, a few of us went on a short walking tour of Lhasa. We wandered down near the Barkhor then across the river and back to the hotel. The Barkhor area is rapidly being replaced by more modern buildings and is not as easy to find as it once was.
Going from Kathmandu to Lhasa is a jump in elevation from 7000 feet to around 11,000 feet. Most of us can feel the difference, but fortunately we have plenty of time to acclimatize as we drive across Tibet.
We also pick up Mr. Wong, our liaison officer, and Ms. Chung, who will act as interpreter.
8/27 Lhasa
Usually the Potala is closed on Sundays, but through “connections” we were able to go on a tour. No trip to Lhasa is complete without visiting this monastery. Norbu, a representative from the Chinese-Tibetan Mountaineering Association (CTMA), was our guide. He was very informative, and I learned a few more things about the Potala and Tibet that I hadn’t known before. Overall, I was very pleased by the tour. Norbu ended up helping us at meals and seeing that we were taken good care of.
Outside the Potala, there are a number of peddlers where you can pick up traditional Tibetan wares. Kris was a bit loose with her money and made some exorbitant purchases of items that she could easily have gotten for a fraction of what she paid if she had been a more willing to bargain. Of course, seeing that, we were soon inundated with people wanting to take advantage of the situation. Lydia later had to take her money away and ration it out. There are a lot of people begging and Kris and Jasmine were both soft touches for giving handouts. I think such actions only foster more begging, so I’m reluctant to contribute.
After visiting the Potala, we went to the Barkhor marketplace. Surprisingly, there was a cyber-café nearby. So, a number of members went and sent emails and caught up on their correspondence. Kathmandu also had a cyber-café near the hotel, so these things are becoming more popular all around the world. But it was a surprise to find one in Lhasa.
While the cyber-geeks were playing email games, the rest of us prowled through the market looking for unique items to bring home. Melva had asked me to bring home more prayer bowls that we could use as gifts. I managed to find some nice ones for about 50 Yuans, apiece (about $6). I enjoyed the light-hearted give and take bargaining with most of the people, but was a bit discouraged by the “take-it-or-leave-it” attitude of some of the Chinese merchants. Lhasa has changed a lot since my first trip in 1997, and not all of it for the better. At that time, we were a curiosity in the marketplace and treated kindly. Now we were “just more tourists” to hit upon.
One of the more unique items we found were the tops of skulls. Apparently, as part of the sky burials, where they dismember the bodies of the deceased and leave them to the birds to eat, the families later collect the skulls and make bowls of them. It was a bit shocking to find the skulls for sale in the market.
We managed to go on a quick trip through the Jokhang temple, which is in the center of the Barkhor. Much of it was inaccessible, but we did manage to get up on the roof and enjoy the view of the Barkhor and the Potala on the hill above. I’m glad I had the opportunity to go through the Jokhang last year, as it is quite old and interesting.
After the Jokhang, we went to a rug factory – actually just the showroom – where you could buy traditional Tibetan rugs. There were a number of nice ones there, but decided not to buy one for fear it would clash with the home décor. If my wife, Melva, gets a chance to come to Nepal (where you can also get rugs), I’ll be safe and let her pick one out.
Meals are usually group affairs with many courses coming one after the other until you are too stuffed to eat any more. The dishes are placed in the center of the table and we have some sort of lazy Susan so that everyone can dig in. Since some of the Chinese delicacies, such as pickled chicken’s feet and other body parts, are not held in such high regard by us Westerners, Norbu helped by suggesting to the cook staff what meals to bring. In this way there weren’t quite as many “surprises” as there were on previous trips.
There was a small food store around the corner from the hotel where we stocked up on last-minute snack foods. I bought some packages of yak jerky, which should make interesting gifts for the folks back home.
8/28 Lhasa to Shigatse
Today we start the overland trip across Tibet to Cho Oyu. The first destination is the city of Shigatse. Much to my surprise, the road between Lhasa and Shigatse was paved. I didn’t remember it being paved, but it may have been on the 1999 trip and I don’t remember. Outside Lhasa, you go through a spectacular gorge and follow the Tsangpo River all the way to Shigatse. At some points the road was washed out and we had to detour around. But, overall, the road was in excellent shape and it only took us about five hours to make the drive.
The highlight of Shigatse is the Tashilumbpo monastery. This monastery was once the home of the Panchen Lama, who was the governmental leader of Tibet. He is the mirror to the Dalai Lama, who was the spiritual leader of Tibet. Inside one of the buildings is a very large, 26 meter tall, Buddha statue. Much of the monastery is still very active with monks. We even got to see some of them practicing their dance steps, probably in preparation for some ritual. Another feature of the monastery that is hard to miss are all the dogs. Since they believe that dogs are reincarnated lamas, they make sure that they are well fed and taken care of. It also means that there are a lot of dogs in Shigatse. The city is notorious for having nightly serenades by the dogs.
As we were walking through town, Matt bought some fireworks at one of the shops. They are part of a big roll, about 18 inches in diameter. Last year Eric brought some along for the party at base camp at the end of the expedition and they were a big hit. We’ll see what happens to Matt’s fireworks and how long they survive before the temptation of setting them off becomes too great.
Near the hotel was an open-air market selling all sorts of animals and vegetables. Many of the animals were still alive and waiting for a buyer. We watched as someone bought a chicken, which was quickly killed, thrown into what looked like a washing machine for plucking, and boiled. All of which took only a minute or so to complete. For those of us who had never seen a chicken plucked before it was morbidly fascinating.
On the street in front of the hotel were a couple of quasi-cyber-cafes. Some of the members who couldn’t wean themselves away from their email took the time to go play. Granted, it is a convenient way of keeping in touch, but it seemed almost overdone. Frankly, I can do without the latest gossip from home at this point. If I had to communicate for work, as it was for the guides, it would be a different story, but I don’t feel compelled to retrieve my email messages in the middle of Tibet!
8/29 Shigatse to Tingri
This is the second day of our driving odyssey to get from Lhasa to Tingri. It also ended up being the most arduous. Due to a lot of recent monsoon rain the road was in horrid shape. There were enormous ruts and mud bogs most of the way. Prior to arriving in Shiatse, where we stopped for lunch and repairs, our jeep had two flat tires. One occurred when crossing a river where the road was washed out. For a moment it looked like we were going to roll the jeep in the river. I was on the downhill side and water was almost up to my window. Visions of swimming for safety through icy water flashed briefly through my mind.
After lunch, we climbed over a high mountain pass. The road, if you can call it that, consists of knee-deep mud bogs and large, sharp rocks lurking just beneath the surface waiting to rip some poor unsuspecting vehicle to shreds. I definitely would not want to drive my Toyota 4Runner in these conditions. I’d be so stressed out by the driving conditions it wouldn’t be funny. Since this is the main trade route between Nepal and China, the so-called “Friendship Highway”, there are quite a number of trucks rumbling along the road. Most of them look like converted army trucks rather than the luxurious “limousine” trucks cruising U.S. highways. These “Dong Feng” brand of vehicles look like they are made for quick repairs in the field. Fortunate, since we saw a lot of them broken down along the road. We also saw our share of vehicles that looked like they were broken down in the middle of rivers and later buried by rocks.
Our trusty Toyota Land Cruisers were remarkably durable on these harsh roads. All of us surmised at one point or other that this would be the car to buy if we ever needed a heavy-duty four-wheel drive vehicle back home. One of the drivers, who seemed like quite an ass, was flaunting his nice, new Hyundai and regularly passing the other drivers to stay in the lead. But as they say, things have a way of catching up with people that act like morons. His nice, new car broke a bolt in the assembly holding the front wheel suspension to the frame. In the U.S. this sort of catastrophic failure would mean an immediate call to AAA for towing. Out in the middle of Tibet, in the midst of a cold monsoon rain at 16,000 feet, this is not an option. Many frustrating hours later, our drivers managed to find a bolt to replace it.
While the vehicle was being worked on, a local Tibetan herder came over and offered us some yak-butter tea. Seeing the kind of hygiene these people endure, we graciously refused his offer and instead offered him some of our cookies and biscuits. He was initially skeptical about them, but later accepted. Our food may be as foreign to him as his tea was to us. He looked ancient, but could possibly have been about my age. They live a very hard life. But, it is this openness and kindness to strangers that makes the Tibetan people so appealing.
We finally arrived in Tingri at 12AM, fifteen hours after we started, exhausted, but glad to be there.
8/30 Tingri
We initially stopped at the Everest View Hotel, which is where we had planned on staying, but probably due to the lateness of our arrival, it was full. Instead, we stayed at the Himalaya Hotel next door. They are essentially the same type of luxury accommodations as at the Everest View. They have the same meager cots, dirt floors, and florescent wallpaper covering the earthen walls. Compared to what we will be facing shortly, this is quite comfortable. Matt, who has become our group pessimist, persists on griping about the food and accommodations. After being here before, I’m used to the conditions and have managed to find a certain rustic charm in them. Lydia also seems to be out of her element. I’m sure she would prefer to be back in a five star hotel sipping cappuccinos.
Since Tingri is around 14,000-15,000 feet in elevation, it is a good stop for further acclimatization. We plan to spend the day here seeing the sights and working out the kinks after driving across Tibet.
We started the morning with a walk to the top of the hill above Tingri, where you get an excellent view of a flat section of the Tibetan plateau. Off in the distance you can see a number of small villages. On a clear day Everest and Cho Oyu dominate the horizon. Unfortunately, there are too many clouds. There is an ever-present threat of rain hanging in the air as well. It is clear the monsoon is not over yet.
As we were sitting around the outside of the hotel enjoying the sun a number of the local urchins came up to investigate us. They were impressed by John’s height and really enjoyed it when he started picking them up and putting them over his head. One had seen too many kung fu movies and was kicking and making various fighting stances. Not one to miss an opportunity, I was kicking him back and making fighting stances right along with him. We were laughing and making “fearsome” faces at each other all the while. One munchkin had a deck of cards with scantily dressed women that he was happily showing to Jasmine. Although we couldn’t communicate very well, we did manage to learn their names and they learned ours. To this day, John will probably be known as “shit-for-brains” and Tap as “gay-boy” amongst the kids of Tingri. What impressed me most was the ease at which they came up to us and quickly got to know us. There was a simplicity and friendliness that I found refreshing, especially since most of the kids we previously met were trying to beg from us. These boys asked for nothing and merrily went on their way after playing with us. It was such a simple act, yet it built a lasting bridge between their culture and ours.
After lunch, we hiked up a mountain, which is about a mile out of town, to further acclimatize and stretch our legs for the ordeal ahead. Because of the threat of rain, some people quit earlier than others, while others pressed on higher. I kept with the latter group for a while before deciding to head back. I wasn’t too thrilled with the idea of getting stuck in the rain. Once I got back off the slope, I tried running to catch up with the others. I wasn’t able to sustain a long run, but was able to jog for short sections before I was out of breath. Satisfied with the exertion at 14,000 feet, I finally caught up with them as they were turning into the hotel courtyard.
8/31 Tingri to Base Camp
One nice thing about going to Tibet in the fall is seeing how green things are. In the early spring, everything is brown and dead. Even when we came out after the spring expedition, everything was still mostly brown until we got back to Nepal. In the fall everything is lush and green, at least as lush and green as it can get when there are no trees around. On the drive from Tingri to Base Camp, I was impressed by how all the grasses seemed to be a brilliant green.
Off to our left (east) we get occasional glimpses of the north side of Everest. With all the clouds hurrying past it is hard to see, especially since it is bright white after the monsoon snows. The unmistakable summit pyramid finally appears and just as quickly is gone. We won’t see Everest again, until we reach the summit of Cho Oyu.
When we got closer to Base Camp, Cho Oyu finally appeared out of the mist. The contrast of the luminous, white mountain delicately shrouded in white clouds to the brilliant green of the plains below was a fantastic way to first see our destination. After this awe-inspiring first impression, the second impression is that this is one big mountain and we are awfully little people. It is a daunting sight. It is also humbling to think that you are going to try and climb this mountain. All of the jeeps stop and everyone stares wide-eyed at the mountain. After the trekkers eyes return to their normal size, they surreptitiously glance at us climbers with a combination of awe and “are you crazy?” written in their faces. My thoughts tend toward the “am I crazy to attempt this (again)?” train of thought. At the same time, I can look high up on the mountain to where Camp 2 is and know that I’ve made it that far. My prior experience slowly brings things into perspective and helps me harden my resolve. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’m facing a formidable and perhaps insurmountable challenge again.
9/1 Base Camp
We’re happily set up in Base Camp, which is the next stop on our gradual acclimatization. At about 16,000 feet, it is high enough so that you feel you won’t be running a marathon here, but low enough that you still feel pretty good. We each have our own tent, so we finally get a bit of privacy. It’s a treat to be able to relax in the comfort of your own space.
There are a number of other expeditions here as well. Base Camp is the staging ground where you make the transition from vehicle power to people (and yak) power. Each morning we see another expedition load up their yaks and head up the hill. Our opportunity to join them will come in a couple of days. For now we have nothing better to do but go for long walks, relax in our tents, and prepare to go higher.
9/2 Base Camp
One of the popular hikes around Base Camp follows a road up the valley in which we are situated. It’s a mostly flat walk, although even slight hills get you breathing heavily at this altitude.
On one of our hikes we met a group of Germans coming back from a successful climb of a nearby 6000-meter mountain. They were pretty exhausted but had smiles of success on their faces. They had jeeps drive up to the end of the road to meet them and ferry them back to Base Camp. The final stretch back to the jeeps requires a river crossing. Most of them were so tired they just plowed through the river oblivious to the cold and wet.
There is a lot of construction activity here in Base Camp. In one area that once was a fort guarding the pass between Nepal and Tibet, they are building a “hotel” for the Chinese liaison officers to stay while they are waiting for the expeditions to return. The LOs rarely venture above Base Camp. Once we leave, we won’t see them again until we come back.
A Tibetan entrepreneur has built a small teahouse at the edge of Base Camp. It is well stocked with alcohol and beer and you can even get a hot meal. On the spring trip, Tap and Heidi got to know the owner and his wife very well. They gave them some of the food and equipment left over from the expedition. This kindness was not forgotten and we were enthusiastically welcomed. It seems that once you become friends with one of the Tibetans, you are friends for life. They will go out of their way to help you and expect nothing in return. We’ve always treated them well, and have gotten friends in return. This year, their son is being hired by IMG to direct the yaks that will carry the supplies for the trekkers from Cho Oyu Base Camp to Everest Base Camp and the Rongbuk region.
Ms. Chung, our Chinese interpreter, decided to join us for dinner. Usually she stays and eats with the LOs, but tonight came to visit us. Her command of English is not the best, but she tries. She was also trying to teach us some basic Chinese words and phrases. We didn’t get much beyond “Hi, how are you?” and “I’m fine”, but she seemed to enjoy our attempts. The subtle tonal inflections were lost to most of us. With slight differences “how are you?” becomes “f*ck you”. Obviously, we are learning the more useful parts of the Chinese language. The sound for cat, “mao”, sounds remarkably like the English sound for “Mao” Tse Tung. When we pointed that out to Ms. Chung, once she figured out what we were talking about, we weren’t sure if she would ever stop laughing.
Ms. Chung was refreshingly open with her questions about America and her opinions of China. She seemed very interested in what we thought about her country. Ever the diplomat, I told her that Americans wanted to be friends with the Chinese, but we weren’t sure about their leaders. She seemed quite satisfied with that answer (as were the rest of our group who sighed with relief). She commented that the Chinese admire American efficiency. She wished that her government was as efficient as America is perceived to be. She described the bureaucratic bloat that infects their government and certainly craves a more productive system. She was also very interested in our views on Taiwan and family life. She seemed to really appreciate American movies and culture. As always, it is fascinating to exchange ideas with people from other cultures, especially since the Chinese are often viewed as adversaries. I honestly believe that the understanding gained of each other at a person-to-person level will be what shapes the world. The propaganda machines on both sides can distort the simple fact that people are basically the same, regardless of where they live.
Some of our group, who had never been to Tibet before, took a very dismal view of the Chinese and their treatment of the Tibetans. Although I don’t agree with the Chinese approach, they have helped to bring Tibet into the 20th century. As the Buddhists would say, there is a balance between good and evil.
9/3 Base Camp to Intermediate Camp
After watching the yaks get loaded, it’s time to head up to Intermediate Camp, which is partway up the valley toward Advance Base Camp (ABC). ABC will be our home for the next month. While Tap stayed behind to supervise the yak loading, the rest of us headed toward camp.
The first obstacle is to cross the river just up the road from Base Camp. It can be deep in spots, so the first challenge is finding a reasonable place to wade across. The easiest thing to do is put on a pair of tennis shoes and shorts and go for it and then change back once you get across. Crossing the river ended up being more of an ordeal than I expected. The river was not the challenge, trying to cross it “by committee” ended up taking about an hour. Some wanted to try upstream where they thought it might be shallower, and some (like myself) wanted to cross by the end of the road. As I expected, upstream was substantially deeper than by the end of the road. I managed to cross long before the others and was patiently waiting and watching them flounder. Although I’ve been here as many times as Tap, some of the others tended to doubt my judgment, even though it usually ends up being correct.
In the time it took to cross the river, Tap had caught up with us and was now back in the lead. There is another small river to cross before you follow it along the glacial moraine up to camp. Following closely behind Tap, I slipped on a rock and fell in the river. I landed heavily on my right hand, cutting it on a rock and bruising the base of my thumb soundly. I wasn’t the only one to fall in the river, as Tap had slipped and dropped the radio earlier, but I wasn’t happy about it either. Fortunately, the weather was good, or it would have been a miserable hike. I had a spare pair of socks, which helped my feet, and my pants were able to dry by walking in them. An unfortunate side effect of altitude is that it takes a long time for wounds to heal. It wasn’t until weeks later that my hand had healed and the bruises went away.
It took us about 6 hours to reach Intermediate Camp, of which 1 hour was spent crossing the river. We reached camp shortly before the yaks or any other groups arrived which enabled us to pick the best spot. Once the yaks arrived, we quickly unloaded them and set up camp. We set up a communal tent for eating, and Pemba quickly prepared dinner. Lydia commented that this hike was one of the most difficult things she has done. Except for falling in the river, I thought it was a piece of cake. In her defense, I remember that the first time I did this hike in ‘97, I thought it was miserable, too. But it was also in the springtime and snowing and cold at that time.
9/4 Intermediate Camp to Advanced Base Camp
Just above Intermediate Camp, you climb up onto the glacial moraine. From there you get a tremendous view of the Gyabrag glacier coming down from the Nangpa La, the pass from Tibet into Nepal, that we will be following up to Advanced Base Camp (ABC). The previous day we had been hiking in a constricted valley, but now we are up higher and get a great view of the route we are taking. Occasionally, we get some spectacular views of Cho Oyu, but a mountain on our left side eventually blocks them. It is not until the glacier we are following makes a left hand turn around the mountain towards ABC that we can again see Cho Oyu in all it’s glory. If we were to follow the path over the Nangpa La into Nepal, we would eventually end up at Namche Bazaar in the heart of the Khumbu at the foot of Everest.
Pemba went ahead of the rest of us to try and secure a good campsite for ABC. He was disappointed by the options available at the usual site, so he found a spot slightly lower and set up camp there. Because of the large number of people that come to ABC each season, after a while it gets to be a big trash heap. Not many of the groups haul out their garbage, so after a while the place looks awful. Pemba wisely decided that the spot we found would be more sanitary. There was fresh water and no trash piles around. This is vitally important because you have to do everything possible to preserve your health up here. On the ’97 trip, I ended up getting sick and never recovering.
From Intermediate Camp to ABC ended up being a good 5-hour hike. The weather was excellent until we came to ABC, then it was overcast. It wouldn’t be for days later that we would get to see Cho Oyu. The trekkers left without ever seeing the west side of the mountain.
9/5 ABC
Today was a rest day and a chance to settle into our new home. We have a large Mountain Hardware dome tent that is used as a dining and cook tent. It is quite comfortable and a good place to lounge around. With Pemba cooking in the tent it stays a bit warmer than the outside air, but it’s still cold at night. Everyone has his or her own tent here at ABC, so afternoons are usually spent reading and relaxing. This is how expeditions usually transpire. There are periods of intense activity followed by rest time. Also, in the initial days here at ABC, we are taking the time to acclimatize at 18,500 feet.
9/6 ABC
Our second day at ABC brings the much anticipated puja ceremony. This is a chance to appease the mountain gods through offerings and prayers. It is a grand tradition amongst climbers and is a vital step on any expedition. Without a proper puja ceremony, the Sherpas won’t set foot on the mountain. Our Sherpas built a rock altar just above camp that they populated with offerings of food and beer. It is strange to see a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer set out as an offering. I guess it’s the thought that counts, not the quality of the beer! Per tradition, the climbers place their ice axes on the altar for the blessing. Pemba made a ceremonial cone of tsampa (barley) with symbols made of frosting. After everything is in place, the climbers and Sherpas gather around the altar while Pemba, who studied in a monastery and once thought of becoming a monk, chants the prayers. Occasionally Phunuru pitches in and helps with the chanting while Kami looks on. Once the chanting is complete, the Kami and Phunuru erect a pole in the middle of the altar and string out the prayer flags from the pole. It’s a colorful sight to see the prayer flags dancing in the wind. Once the flags are up, the Sherpas offer tsampa flour to everyone, who then smear it on each other’s faces and shoulders, creating a happy mess. Food and beer is then passed around and things rapidly degenerate from here.
During the puja ceremony, it’s near impossible to stay sober. And at 18,500 feet, it doesn’t take much to have you feeling good in no time. After one beer, Greg was properly comatose. He admitted to being a lightweight drinker, but we had no idea that after half a beer he would be sitting on a rock staring into space. John dubbed him “Norm” for his beer-drinking prowess.
Pemba cranked up the music and the rest of us were dancing with the Sherpas to the beat of the Vengaboys (look it up, it’s real popular Western dance music in Nepal). Kami, meanwhile, has opened a bottle of scotch and is passing around the bottle cap doing shots. All is in fun, and everyone (except Greg who is comatose on the rock) is having a good time. This is probably why the puja ceremony is one of the events everyone looks forward to.
9/7 ABC to Camp 1
It’s now time to get started climbing this mountain. Today’s agenda consists of an equipment carry up to Camp 1. The climbers fill their packs with supplies and equipment while the trekkers, who will be accompanying us, fill their packs with the essentials for a “leisurely” hike. Because of the potential for rapidly changing weather, everyone must bring clothes for the extremes of blistering hot weather to blizzard conditions. You never know what the mountain will throw at you. And today it is overcast, so it is impossible to predict what will happen. It is usually better to under-dress, since you tend to keep warm hauling stuff up the mountain.
From ABC it is a couple of miles along a glacial moraine before you reach the foot of the mountain. The path is reasonably well marked with rock Cairns from previous years’ expeditions, but it’s always a trick to find the easiest path. It’s near impossible to get lost, but you can certainly waste time following a more difficult path. Walking along the moraine is an exercise is stepping from rock to rock and hoping that there is no ice underneath to send you sliding. You don’t gain much altitude, but you are constantly going up and down small slopes. At sea level, this would be a running trail; at 18,500+ feet it is a chore.
About half way from ABC to the base of the mountain, Kris started having problems. She wasn’t feeling well and she and Lydia elected to go back to ABC. Staying healthy here is a full time activity and it is one of the most common reasons for not succeeding. Whatever she got, it haunted her for the rest of her trip.
At the end of the moraine, there is a short hill that takes you up to the base of the scree slope, where the real fun begins. This section is an unwelcome prelude to the task ahead, that Dave Hahn once nicknamed “the sh*t pile”. At 19,000 feet, it wakes you up and leaves you gasping for breath.
At the top of the slope is a flat section where countless avalanches have deposited their loads of rock. It is a convenient place for a cache spot or emergency camp for those not wanting to venture up the scree slope to Camp 1. Matt and Jasmine decided at this point that they had had enough. They saw no point in continuing further if there was no chance of a view of Cho Oyu. Since they are here as trekkers, not as climbers, it is hard to encourage them to go higher if they don’t want to. Both are strong trekkers and could have easily made it, but that is not their goal, and we all respect their decision. Unfortunately for them, once we climbed a little higher up the scree slope, we got above the clouds and had a pretty good view of the mountain.
After parting with Matt and Jasmine, we headed up the notorious scree slope. This is a miserable hike up steep, loose rock. It’s a trial you have to pass in order to get to the fun snow and ice climbing. It is slow going as you plod your way up the hill. You rapidly gain altitude, but you spend so much of your time looking at where you put your feet that you can’t appreciate the view until you take a rest stop. Only then are you able to look around and momentarily enjoy where you are, before you march up the hill again. You try and establish a rhythm with your breathing, taking one step every two gasping breaths. It makes it easier to pass the time and forget how much exertion it is when you can move on “automatic”. Your calves and thighs feel the strain and you hope you trained well enough to get past this obstacle. It reminds me a lot of the exertion from climbing the Manitou Incline, my favorite training spot, except it’s over 12,000 feet higher! After a long traverse you can see the path going through a pair of rocks, welcoming you like gates to Camp 1 at 20,800 feet – higher than Mt. McKinley – and just the start of the climb.
After depositing our loads, we scurry back down the scree slope, straining different muscles in a vain attempt to keep from sliding down the hill on your butt. This is our first of many trips up the scree slope. By the end of the expedition we’ll be able to get up it much faster, but it is never pleasant, and becomes one of the most dreaded parts of the climb.
With our loads considerably lightened, we head back down the moraine to ABC and “home”.
9/8 ABC
The typical weather pattern is – cloudy, with occasional snow. There is a pronounced inversion layer that makes it clear up high (although there are high winds on the summit), but here at ABC it is constantly cloudy. In such conditions there is not much to do but read or get involved in the frequent card games of Hearts or Gin Rummy 500. Some of these people take their card-playing seriously! Kris, especially, is a ruthless card shark. John has been keeping a running tally of the scores and the loser has to buy dinner back in Kathmandu (such bets are rarely honored – we were so happy to get back successfully that everyone was buying rounds of drinks).
My friend from last year’s expedition, Ellen Miller, came up from Base Camp today to be with Russell Brice’s expedition. It’s good to see her again and there is a comradery between us as the sole veterans of last year’s trip.
9/9 ABC to Camp 1
Today marks a parting of the ways between the climbers and the trekkers. They are planning to descend to Base Camp and begin their trek to the Rongbuk monastery tomorrow. We will be going up to spend our first night at Camp 1.
Kris is still not feeling well, so she and Lydia have opted to descend to Base Camp and take a jeep with Ms. Chung over to Everest Base Camp where they will meet up with Matt, Jasmine and Heidi. Karsang, one of the Sherpas, will go with the trekking group as guide and cook. Last year, Leslie Howington, had her pack stolen on the same trek, so IMG has hired a local Tibetan to help guard the camps. [I later heard from Kris that they had a great time on the trek and got some spectacular views of Everest. She sent me a picture of Everest that is awesome.]
The rest of us trudged up to Camp 1. Again, once we got above the clouds, the weather was excellent and quite comfortable at Camp 1.
9/10 Camp 1 to ABC
Today Tap wanted to go up to Camp 2 and then back to ABC. It’s an ambitious plan. He is constantly challenging us to go faster and see what our limits are.
Above Camp 1, the climbing becomes less of a hike and more like the mountain climbing we were eagerly anticipating. The first section above Camp 1 consists of a long snow climb along a broad ridge, with some sections of fixed rope where it is steeper or there are long drop-offs if you slip. It is fun to finally put crampons on and feel like you are climbing. The weather was excellent, sunny and warm, and we could see the cloud layer below. Off to our right is a mountain named after the first Sherpani (female Sherpa) who climbed Everest. Unfortunately she died on the descent. Behind us, back in the direction of Camp 1 and ABC we can see Shishapangma in the distance.
The icefall, which is widely considered the crux of the climb, is at the end of the ridge we had just ascended. It has a steep snow section leading up to a vertical ice climb. Other groups had already ascended it so it has a rope already fixed up it for protection. Tap watches as we each ascend the fixed rope. John goes first and ascends the ice easily. I follow after and Greg brings up the rear. The ice cliff had one section of hard, blue ice and above it was a vertical snow/ice tunnel that was like ascending a ladder made of ice. It wasn’t technically difficult, but at 22,000+ feet, the altitude makes it very strenuous.
The conditions for climbing, thus far, have been excellent. We have hard-packed snow, so you don’t have to post-hole up the hill, and the icefall is straightforward. We haven’t heard too many reports from high on the mountain to know how conditions are there. I can only hope they are this good. We see some remains of avalanches higher up, but they are nowhere as severe as last year. I’m cautiously optimistic that the avalanche conditions won’t stop us this year, as they did last year.
Above the icefall is a long flat section that we’ve nicknamed “the oven”. When the sun is shining, the light is focused by the slightly concave shape of the surrounding snow directly onto the climbers and it can be extremely hot. Last year I remember stripping down to just my long underwear, and it was still unbearably hot. This year, I planned ahead and brought some lighter colored clothing, which did the trick. It was still hot, but I didn’t get severely dehydrated as I did before.
Above the oven is a steep slope leading to Camp 2. In the spring, this was a wall of hard, blue ice that was difficult to dig into with your crampons. In the fall, this was a steep snow climb. It has a fixed rope up it, but with the exception of one steep ice bulge, it is easy going. Even if you fell, you should be able to stop in the deep snow just off the trail.
Off in the distance we could see Tap pressing ahead to Camp 2. The rest of us seemed to agree that it was futile to try and catch him and decided to wait at the base of the final wall. We later trundled down to the top of the icefall to wait. To say he was unhappy is an understatement; he had waited up at Camp 2 for us and was disappointed that we didn’t try to get higher. All of us were looking at the fact that we still had to get all the way back to ABC, and didn’t want to overextend ourselves. The previous year, Eric only had us go as far as the top of the icefall before heading back to ABC, so that was certainly weighed into my decision not to press on to Camp 2 on this day. Each leader is different, so it really isn’t fair to make comparisons, but I’ve noticed a substantial difference in the expectations of Dave, Eric, and now Tap. When this expedition is over, I should be able to objectively look at how things were run and see what works and what doesn’t work, but it is too early yet to say.
9/11 ABC
Life at ABC consists of trying to rest, catch up on lost sleep, read mindless novels, and play cards. It can be difficult sleeping at the higher camps, but all of us have no problems sleeping down here at ABC. It’s pretty relaxing, and time seems to go by fast.
One of the favorite ways to pass the time is by playing cards. Rummy 500 and Hearts seem to be the games of choice since they take a long time to play, they’re relatively mindless, and easy to learn. To our delight, we managed to get the Sherpas involved in the card games. Phunuru ended up being quite a card shark; he surprised us by his strategy of either winning big or losing big. Either way, he had fun and it was a great way to get to know him better. Kami joined in some, but mostly seemed content to watch.
Occasionally, when the weather is clear, we can take a much-needed shower. We have a tent set up that has the floor cut out of it, that we can use for showers. Pemba will heat some water and fill a pump bottle that has a showerhead attached. It is a welcome luxury, and we all try and squeeze one in during the very brief times when the sun is out and the weather is warm.
9/12 ABC to Camp 1
We made another carry to Camp 1 today. Each time is faster than the last, which is a good sign that we are acclimating. I look back on the times it took me to make it up to Camp 1 last year, and this year they are about the same, or slightly less than last time. Even though I am usually the slowest, I’m still doing well. With a statistical sample of three climbers, I guess someone has to come in last…
9/13 ABC
Today is another rest day at ABC. During dinner we talked about our expectations for this climb. After two previous trips, I don’t have any expectations. I realize that some things, such as the weather, are beyond my control. John commented that he didn’t care if he made it or not, but he said that he really wants me to get to top. I felt touched by his noble comment.
9/14 ABC
Heidi has rejoined the group after completing the trek with Matt and Jasmine. It’s good to have her back. She helps balance out the group.
Apparently, Kris was still too sick to go on the trek, so she and Lydia stayed at ABC and later went to Rongbuk by Jeep to pick up the others.
There seems to be a natural inclination to give the mountain, and nature, human traits. When we look up at the mountain and see the high winds blowing snow plumes from the summit, we tend to think in terms of “a cold, unforgiving mountain” or “if the mountain will let us climb it”. I don’t believe that the mountain has such emotions – it just is. There is no malevolence inherent in the mountain. If we manage to climb it, it will be because of good fortune with the weather, snow conditions, health, etc. – a lot of things have to come together to make it possible. I don’t think the “mountain gods” really care. But, if such things exist, I hope they were properly appeased by our puja ceremony.
9/15 ABC
With Heidi back, we planned to go back up and spend a night at Camp 1 to help her further acclimatize and to do an additional carry. Greg was not feeling well, so he decided to stay at ABC and recuperate. Since it usually takes me longer than the rest to get up to Camp 1 and I don’t enjoy sitting around camp waiting, I left a bit earlier than the others. I hadn’t felt that well this morning and hiking just made it worse. I seemed to be stricken with a bad case of gas that I couldn’t shake. It took forever to get to old ABC and I wasn’t getting better, as I had hoped. Usually, just getting out and going makes me feel better; but not this time. By the time I got above ABC, I realized that it just wasn’t worth it to push on to Camp 1. It was taking me too long, and I didn’t feel right. Since discretion is sometimes the best thing, I headed back to ABC. The others were just getting ready to head up, so I let them know what was going on. Heidi, Tap, John went on to Camp1 without me.
Today was the only day I was sick on this trip. Being healthy certainly makes a difference. The 1999 trip and this trip are so different than the first time I was here. On that trip I was extremely sick. I didn’t realize just how much until the 1999 trip. Originally, I wasn’t sure if I was sick or it just the effects of altitude. On subsequent expeditions, I’ve stayed healthy and acclimatized normally, and have done well. Being healthy is critical for the success of an expedition and I appreciate all of Pemba’s efforts to keep us well fed and healthy.
Despite not being able to go up to Camp 1, this ended up being a memorable day. Since only Greg and I were there with the three Sherpas, they joined us for dinner. I started out helping Kami and Phunuru peel the potatoes, or “alloe”. These are often served as an appetizer with a “corasoni” sauce composed of mayonnaise, chili powder, garlic, and pepper. We ended up having some great conversations. It always “breaks the ice” to show pictures of home. I happened to have some pictures of Melva and the dogs with me. I think they were surprised how well we treated our animals. Pemba asked if it was expensive to keep dogs in America. Relative to how much kids cost, animals are a relative bargain, and I told him so. In Nepal, dogs are working animals rather than pets, and not everyone likes them. Pemba brought out pictures of his family and house and told us stories of home. Kami then brought out his camcorder and showed us his home movies of a Buddhist festival near his home at Tengboche monastery. Pemba described the ceremony and Kami described how people were bringing food for the ceremony that was later redistributed to the needy in the town. Pemba is very knowledgeable about the symbolism of the festivals and told us a lot about it. Apparently, the dancers had long sleeves on their costumes in memory of an ancient warrior who hid a bow in his costume and shot an evil king. All in all it was fascinating to talk with the Sherpas. They felt very open and comfortable with us and the friendships made this evening I will cherish forever.
Later that night discussions turned to their attitudes about the mysterious yeti. All three of them firmly believe they exist. None of them have actually seen one, but all claim to know people that have and have seen their effects and tracks. Also, there is another animal called a “neti”, apparently a smaller version of the yeti, that all said was much more common than the yeti. The yeti stays away from people while the neti is more common at low altitudes where people live. Pemba makes them sound like little gremlins that cause trouble. He described how they will scatter wood after he’s piled it up and other random acts of mischief. The Sherpas are animists and believe in spirits and other things that can’t be seen or easily explained. They lead a simple life, but one that is spiritually full.
9/16 ABC
After a good night’s sleep, I’m feeling much better than yesterday. I don’t know what caused it, but I’m glad it was temporary.
Heidi, Tap and John returned from Camp 1 after spending a good night there.
9/17 ABC to Camp 1
Another endless carry to Camp 1. It’s a lot of work, but it has to be done. After a few times, the scree slope becomes easier, but it still is a slog up it.
9/19 ABC
We are now planning for a summit attempt. There have been no recent attempts due to strong winds and poor weather higher on the mountain. Due to reports of deep snow up high we have decided to delay our proposed summit attempt by a day so that we can team up with Russell Brice’s expedition. With more Sherpas, it will be easier to break trail and fix ropes on the summit attempt. Our Sherpas believe that the weather will be better that day. They also predict that there will be a short weather window that will open for our attempt and close shortly afterwards. How they know this is uncanny. I guess since they live by the weather and seasons, they have an innate weather sense. [As it would turn out, there weather instincts were exactly right. The weather for the summit attempt was excellent and the day after the weather window closed and there would not be another successful summit attempt for a couple of weeks.]
9/20 ABC
Today is our last rest day before going for the summit. I’m trying to sort out what I need to bring and what can stay behind. I don’t want to have to carry any more than is absolutely necessary.
9/21 ABC to Camp 1
Today begins our summit attempt. It will still be three days before we are in a position to go for the summit. For today the goal is Camp 1, tomorrow we will go to Camp 2, and the following day we will ascend to Camp 3. If the weather is good, we will attempt the summit on the fourth day from Camp 3.
I’m intrigued by the prospect of trying for the summit and cautiously optimistic. But strangely, it doesn’t feel real. I know we still have a long way to go and a lot can happen in that time. I don’t have any expectations and that keeps me from getting my hopes up.
9/22 Camp 1 to Camp 2
We had a lot of stuff to carry up to Camp 2, so this made for a strenuous day. I made it in good time, but was certainly tired by the time I plodded into Camp. Tap was concerned that since we had not stayed at Camp 2 before we would have lost out on some needed acclimatization. We’ll see how it plays out. We can certainly feel the effects of the altitude, but we’re all feeling good. The weather and the snow look promising higher up. There are very few avalanche runs compared to last year and all indications are that the summit attempt is still a “go”.
As I was ascending the top section of the icefall a Sherpa from another group scrambled up next to me. He barely used the rope except as a handhold. He was up it in a flash and I was thoroughly impressed by his strength and stamina. They make climbing these mountains look easy.
9/23 Camp 2 to Camp 3
With the push to Camp 3 at 24,500 feet, I’ve now gone higher than I had on any previous expedition. We had a beautiful sunny day for climbing. Climbing was noticeably slower due to the altitude. The final push into Camp 3 was very slow. You can see it above you, but it seems to take forever to reach it. This section of the climb was once described as an “anaerobic Stairmaster” and I can see why. Your heart is pounding and you are gasping for breath as you slowly plod up the hill. It is only a 1500-foot elevation gain from Camp 2 to Camp 3, but it seems to take an eternity. I left most of the non-essentials back at Camp 2, but it seemed like there was still a lot to carry up to Camp 3. It’s hard, but satisfying work.
After he had reached Camp 3, Tap realized that he had forgotten to bring sleeping pads with him, so he returned to Camp 2 and brought some up. He’s an exceptionally strong climber. I would not have wanted to go back to Camp 2 and then return – and he made it quite quickly.
Things still look good for a summit bid tomorrow. There’s a lot of optimism, and we know it will be a hard day tomorrow. All of us feel up to the challenge.
9/24 Summit
day
Summit day started at the ungodly hour of 1:00 AM. I had a great night’s sleep due to being on oxygen. It helped immensely and I was told I was snoring away happily. I was hooked up to a bottle of oxygen with John who was playing with the regulator when we first went to sleep. When he turned it up, it was like Disneyland – I was warm and comfortable. When he turned it down, it became cold and difficult to breathe. I was surprised at how much of a difference it made in helping me to sleep. With a relatively good, albeit short, night’s sleep I was ready to go.
We started by getting a brew going and trying to choke down some breakfast, to almost no avail. A couple of Pop Tarts for breakfast and it’s time to struggle into cold boots. Kami and Phunuru have come up from Camp 2 to meet us and piled into the tent with John, Greg, and I to keep warm. Fitting 5 people into the tent and trying to get dressed at the same time required some clever physical manipulations. Moving at this altitude is difficult to begin with, and at this time in the morning, in the cold, in bulky down clothing, and with a headlamp makes it just the more challenging.
After fixing my harness and strapping on crampons, it’s time to hook up the oxygen and head up the hill. The oxygen cylinder is a heavy 17 pounds and you can definitely feel its weight in the pack. The oxygen mask covers much of my face and provides some protection against the cold and wind. It has a hood attached, which covers my hair and much of my head. The entire setup adds additional warmth.
Winding my way through camp in the dark with only the light of my headlamp is challenging and slow. It’s an awkward start to the day. Immediately out of camp, we begin to move uphill toward the Rock Band at about 25,000 feet. Much of the camp is stirring, so there are occasional groups of lamps milling around the tents and a few heading uphill. With only the light of the headlamp, it’s hard to know where to go and my depth perception is noticeably diminished. With the oxygen mask covering my face, I have to look down sharply to see where to place my feet. As we slowly creep up to the first major hurdle, we’re going slower than I would have expected, considering we’re using oxygen. This is my first indication the oxygen is not the “go juice” that many people consider it to be. At a flow rate of 1.5 liters per minute, it’s helping me to stay warm, but providing little additional benefit, considering I’m hauling a heavy cylinder.
Tap is ahead of me and Phunuru is behind as we wait in line for our turn to ascend the fixed ropes at the Rock Band. There are a number of different ropes so we have a couple of queues forming. While we’re waiting, my feet alternately go numb. Only by shifting my weight on and off one foot at a time can I restore circulation and feeling. When the circulation is restored to the numb foot, it is quite painful. It is a dangerous cold and the threat of frostbite is very real. Above us, one of the Telluride climbers is struggling up the rope with her skis. It takes almost 45 minutes from reaching the Yellow Band until we actually get a chance to climb through the rock. After clipping my ascender onto the rope, I begin the arduous task of climbing the rock band. The difficult section is only about 30 feet high, but it is one of the most difficult climbs of my life. With the light of my headlamp the only way to see the route, I struggle up the rock trying to muscle my way up the rope. My crampons scrape against the rock trying to gain purchase on small nubbins while I move the ascender up the rope in a desperate attempt to get up the face. My heart is pounding and I’m gasping for breath at this altitude. I finally rip my oxygen mask off to try and catch my breath. The mask interferes with my heavy breathing and doesn’t provide much benefit when I’m working this hard and need to get more air (that isn’t there to begin with). With a few loud grunts and groans I finally pull myself to the top of the Yellow Band and collapse in the snow trying to catch my breath. It’s still a steep snow slope, so I lean against the snow until the person following me comes up and encourages me to get going so everyone else can come up. Phunuru, who was behind me, came up another rope, so I met he and Tap at the top of the fixed ropes. I can confidently say that climbing the rock band was the most difficult thing I’ve done so far on this climb and I’m glad this hurdle is past. Greg later said that he seriously considered giving up at this point. After coming so far, the thought of giving up never occurred to me. Tap told us that some of the folks on the spring trip, when the conditions were much icier than now, gave up after struggling up the Yellow Band. I can easily see how some people would have reached their limit at this point.
Tap pushes on ahead and Phunuru, who would be my escort for the rest of the summit climb, follows behind as we clip into the next rope and continue up the fixed ropes. About 2/3 of the way up the second rope, I have to pull off to the side and catch my breath. This allows some of the people behind to pass, including Ellen who I’m glad to see has made it this far. After a few minutes, Phunuru says we have to get going, so we merge back into the traffic going up the ropes.
I’m surprised by how many people there are going for the summit. There are probably about 30 people from different groups all vying for space on the ropes and any delays or slower climbers impact all. Trying to pass is a challenge since it means fighting through the deeper snow off the trail as well as requiring a short burst of speed that quickly leaves one gasping for breath. I manage to pass a few people, but am mostly constrained to follow the hordes to the summit.
Part way up the main face, the sun begins to come up and I can finally begin to see where we’re going. Although it will be quite a while until the sun’s rays actually reach us, the light is welcome and I get some perspective on what’s around us. The day is still very cold, probably around –20F, with gusty winds that blow the snow around and quickly fill in the tracks to the summit. Having the oxygen mask on helps to protect my face from the wind. I am constantly moving my ice axe from hand to hand to keep my fingers from going numb in the cold. When one hand goes numb, I switch the axe to it so that through use the circulation is restored. My feet are cold but I can still feel my toes, so they are in good shape.
There is a substantial amount of fixed rope going up the west face. Some of the areas don’t seem steep enough (30-40 degrees) or dangerous enough, due to the deep snow that would quickly stop a fall, to justify it, but it is still comforting to have it there. The fixed rope is useful to have to haul yourself up on rather than relying purely on leg strength. Some sections are steep, but the “trail” is hard packed. The Sherpas who went ahead of everyone else did an excellent job of breaking trail. It’s like climbing very steep steps and it is remarkably hard to summon the energy to lift your feet with each step. By regulating my breathing, I can establish something of a rhythm. Each step seems to require about 8 panting breaths, so progress is slow and seemingly interminable. Phunuru offers to help me by carrying my oxygen bottle. Although I appreciate the extremely kind gesture he is making, I’d much rather make it under my own power.
At around 9:00 AM Phunuru and I finally reach the shoulder on the west face and begin the traverse up the final slope to the summit plateau. For a very short time, the slope is flat and I can relax my legs. The slope is wind packed and ridged unlike the deeper snow on the west face. The wind is also blowing harder up here and the tracks are quickly filled in. The snow ridges make it harder and the steps are awkward. I struggled up a small rock step that I would not have even noticed at a lower altitude, but here at 25,500 even simple things become quite hard. Phunuru gives me an unexpected helping hand by pushing my pack as I’m taking a big step.
Part way up the final slope the sun finally began to appear over the summit. At this altitude, the sun doesn’t provide much warmth. Since we’re facing directly into the sun, the slope takes on a surreal quality with the wind swept ridges and the blowing snow. Climbers ahead of me are silhouetted in the bright sun. It is an excellent day and the view is spectacular. We are substantially above most of the surrounding mountains and it is clear enough that we can see a long way into Tibet on one side and Nepal on the other.
Near the top of the slope, I ask Phunuru how much farther we have to go. In typical Sherpa fashion, he says we have another 10 minutes. Phunuru’s infamous ten minutes stretched on for much longer than that. Confident that I could catch up with him, he quickly passed me and proceeded up the final slope to the summit plateau. “Ten minutes” later, I reached the plateau, which is a long, gentle slope that leads to the summit. Now above 8000 meters, I’ve reached a climbing milestone, finally surmounting the magic 8000-meter mark. I’m now higher than almost all the mountains in the world. Looking around, I feel that I am in an airplane with all the mountains below. The brown Tibetan plateau stretches far below, and the snow-covered mountains of Nepal, with a few scattered clouds, make an impressive sight. On the left of the summit plateau is a small peak that is a false summit, on the right is the long slope to the true summit. The false summit has seen quite a few mistaken ascents, and usually results in quite a bit of embarrassment as the climbers realize their mistake.
After a short distance traveling up the plateau, I finally stop for a short break. This is the first break I’ve taken since beginning the climb this morning. I manage to take a few sips of water and munch on a Rice Krispy Treat. I’m pretty beat at this time and am beginning to think about making sure that I can also get down safely. Because we have to get down to Camp 3, pick it up, and then carry it down to Camp 2, we still have a long day ahead of us. I firmly believe in Ed Viesturs’ adage that the summit is optional but coming back down is mandatory. During my short break one of the snowboarders comes down and wipes out near me. The look on his face shows clearly how strenuous it is to be snowboarding at this altitude. He’s the first one that I’ve met thus far that has made the summit and is heading back down. Maybe I’m not as far behind the others as I’ve thought. My altimeter reads 26,500, so I still have a way to go. It’s hard to tell based on the altitude, since the altimeter is only approximate and subject to fluctuations in the weather/pressure.
At the break, I try to take a picture of the plateau and the surrounding mountains only to discover that my camera has frozen. I kept it in an insulated pack, inside my other pack, but the cold is just too intense. Not wanting to remove the batteries and lose the film counter information, which in hindsight would have been the best thing to do, I stick the camera in my jacket in an attempt to warm it up. Unfortunately, the breathing vents are on the underside of the oxygen mask, so my breath hit the cold camera and immediately formed an ice coating. I’m very disappointed that I cannot capture the beauty around me. I’m also annoyed that I carried such a heavy camera this high only to have it not work. It may not seem like a lot of weight, but at this altitude, every little bit counts. On previous trips, I brought my lightweight Pentax that would easily fit inside my jacket. This time I decided to bring my Nikon with a telephoto lens hoping to get good pictures of Everest and surrounding mountains from the summit.
After I start back up the plateau, I meet someone who I believe is Ellen coming back down. She is concerned about her oxygen apparatus since she didn’t seem to be getting any gas. A quick check on my part suggests that nothing is obviously wrong with it. At the time, it didn’t occur to me to check if the tank was empty, something that would have been obvious in hindsight. Clearly, my mind wasn’t working clearly at that altitude. In fact, since her face was pretty much obscured by the oxygen mask, I wasn’t even sure it was Ellen until I asked her later down at ABC!
Complicating matters, I’ve noticed that my distance vision is not as acute as it normally is. Trudging up the slope, I notice someone farther up waving, but I cannot clearly make out who it is. I assume it is Phunuru, and continue following this phantom up the summit plateau, never quite reaching him.
One of the most frustrating aspects of this climb is following behind some climbers who do some very erratic things. On the summit plateau there was one Korean who would go fast for a few steps then fall on his knees blocking the trail. I’d have to wade into the deep snow to get around him, which expends a lot of energy. Later, he would get up, speed around me, and then fall on his face again. This leapfrogging continued for some time, until he fell behind. Unfortunately, a number of other climbers along the route use the same method of climbing in quick spurts and then blocking the trail. It’s bizarre to watch and frustrating to be behind them. I don’t understand why they do it this way and it caused problems for all the members of our group.
Continuing up the plateau, I finally meet Heidi and Kami coming back down. Kami seems intent on heading down and I ask Heidi how much further it is to the summit and if I can see anything from the top of the next ridge. Kami says something about it being another two hours. I’m not sure if he is talking about how long it will take, or perhaps how long the round trip is from here. It’s not clear. Given the speed at which one can go at this altitude, another hour is not very far. And Heidi says that getting to the top of the next ridge still won’t yield a good view. Apparently, the true summit is a couple ridges further and the only view of Everest is from the true summit. Shortly afterwards, Tap came down as well and congratulated me on reaching the summit. Given the fact that we have an 11:00 turn around time, he tells me that this is close enough to be considered a successful summit and that proceeding any further is as unnecessary as “counting grains of sand”. The major obstacles have been overcome and from here it is an “easy stroll” to the true summit. Apparently a significant number of groups also consider this to be “close enough” and never reach the true summit. But it is not close enough for Liz Hawley, the keeper of records, who insists on reaching the true summit.
After turning around, we proceeded back down the slope to the saddle. There were still some people heading toward the summit. Since the weather appeared to be holding, there was still enough time for them to reach the summit and return to Camp 3 safely. Part way down the slope, John and Phunuru caught up with us. After Phunuru left me, he caught up with John just below the summit and the two reached the summit together. Phunuru had an IMG banner that he and John were holding on the summit for a good summit advertisement picture. Since Greg was a bit overextended going to the summit, Kami was short-roping Greg down the slope. I was still trying to thaw out my camera, to no avail. Not being able to get any pictures is the biggest disappointment of the trip.
Going down the fixed ropes was quick and we lost altitude rapidly. Tap increased the oxygen flow on my bottle to 4 liters/minute to help make the descent easier. When we reached the Yellow Band, it was an easy rappel although the rope was a bit short and it felt like we were rappelling off the end of it. At the bottom of the Yellow Band, Camp 3 appears to be quite close but it is still a long trudge into camp. Also, the snow had softened enough so that we were post holing down the slow, which is very tiring and takes a lot of energy at this altitude. Above the Yellow Band, the snow was still relatively firm and the going was easy. Below it, the going was much more difficult.
We gathered our equipment from Camp 3 and headed for Camp 2. Most groups only come back down to Camp 3, but for us it made sense to get as low as possible. Kami and Phunuru put the tents and other equipment into a duffel bag that Phunuru then hauled down behind him. The rest of us gathered our personal gear and oxygen and proceeded to slog down the slope toward camp 2. Below camp 3 we were no longer using oxygen. The trip down to Camp 2, although it is not far, seemed to take forever. After getting up so early, we had been climbing for around 14 hours by the time we reached Camp 3, and were getting worn out. None of us had stopped much to eat or drink, so dehydration and a lack of energy were starting to play a factor in how quickly we could get down. At some spots along the way we were trying to glissade (slide on our butts) down - anything to make it faster. I was following behind Greg and John, and we were all thoroughly worn out. I finally reached Camp 2 around 6 PM, and crashed into the tent. We were all too tired to do anything but heat water for drinks and curl up in our sleeping bags.
We had all made it safely to the summit and back.
9/25 Camp 2 to ABC
In what ended up being another long, hard day, we packed up Camp 2 early and started the long haul down to ABC. The Sherpas are able to carry most of the tents, but we still had to haul a lot of the other group gear, plus our personal gear and oxygen.
During the night, bad weather had returned high on the mountain, and we heard that the groups attempting to summit were forced back by the high winds. What a difference a day makes! One day later and we wouldn’t have been able to make it. I later heard that it was about 2 weeks later that another weather window opened and people were able to make it to the summit. We were very fortunate that the Sherpas predicted the weather as well as they did. It would have been frustrating to again not be able to make it due to weather.
During the night, I awoke with a tremendous thirst and didn’t have any water. I had used my remaining water from the previous day to start dinner and hadn’t thought about replenishing it. Greg and John didn’t have any to spare, so I was kept awake for quite a while looking forward to morning and being able to melt some water for drinks. John wisely was using his remaining oxygen to sleep with, so he was quite happy. I still had ¾ of my tank left (an indication of how little I used the day before), so in retrospect I should have slept with it, if nothing else, to reduce some of the weight in the tank.
The climb down to Camp 1 was arduous. The wind was kicking up, so it made visibility difficult at times in the blowing snow. After rappelling off the ice cliff, the wind really started blowing. I had just come off the top rappel rope and was attempting to clip into the lower one when I was hit by a gust of wind that almost knocked me over. In the process, I dropped my figure-8 descender (rappel device) and watched as it fell the rest of the way down the slope. Since I could get along without it the rest of the way, I decided not to spend any unnecessary energy searching for it. It was a stupid mistake, but in a mind addled by exhaustion an easy mistake to make. The rest of the way to Camp 1 was slowed by frequent stops to turn out of the wind when it hit especially hard.
By the time I got to Camp 1, the weather had brightened a bit. It was still blowing hard higher up on the mountain, but here it seemed comfortable. After a short rest break, we began the task of loading up the rest of the gear to bring down. This late in the expedition, we had each brought up a fair amount of personal gear that had to be brought down. John seemed to set the record for the largest pack, as his was piled high. After changing into lighter clothing and hiking boots, it was time to head down the scree slope and back across the moraine. I was in my customary position of bringing up the rear, but never lost sight of the others. Just above the main ABC, Phunuru met me with a jug of hot orange drink. He graciously carried my pack the rest of the way back to ABC where the others had just arrived. The extra help was certainly appreciated since it was getting close to sunset. Pemba had an excellent dinner prepared and a special cake to congratulate us on our success.
9/26 ABC
After the events of the past five days, it’s great to be able to rest and relax. The air at ABC (18,000+ feet!) seems dense by comparison. No one has much energy and we’re all content to lounge around in the sun, eat, and do nothing. The amusement for the day came when Kami and John grabbed Greg and forcefully shaved his beard into a goatee. He looked better in a goatee than he did with a beard! John and Greg were growing beards, while Tap and I were clean-shaven during the trip. Since my beard is very gray, it makes me look old, especially since the rest of my hair is still brown. Such vanity!
There are still some groups up at Camp 3 waiting for a break in the weather for their own summit attempts. Unfortunately, the mountain has not been cooperative as there are high winds above Camp 3 that make climbing impossible. Chris Boskoff, of Mountain Madness, who is trying to become the first American woman to climb all 14 8000-meter mountains, headed one of the groups stuck at Camp 3.
9/27 ABC
Originally, we had planned to go back up to Camp 1 today to retrieve the remainder of our gear (tents, stoves, etc). None of us were looking forward to a final trudge up the scree slope, but all of us were resigned to it. Fortunately, Tap hired some Tibetans to bring the stuff down. Even the Sherpas seemed relieved. It gave us more time to leisurely pack up our camp for the yaks, which should be here tomorrow to bring our stuff down.
To celebrate our victory and have one last night together, Russell Brice hosted a camp-wide party. It was a great opportunity to get together with the other groups and pat each other on the back for a job well done. I’m glad that both Ellen and I made it after last year’s disappointment. Given the chance, I knew she would succeed. I’m relieved she had the chance. I spoke with some other climbers from Colorado who was here. Unfortunately, they were not so lucky, and didn’t make it to the summit due to various illnesses.
Greg and I were cornered by one of the members of the Marconi expedition at Russ’s party. He was quite congratulatory on our success, although he seemed to hold a slight antagonism toward guided climbs. He was asking us pointed questions about our experience with IMG and seemed to be looking for something bad to say (on their web dispatches, perhaps?). We had nothing bad to say, so he went away disappointed. The Marconi group did a remarkable job organizing their expedition, climbed without Sherpa support, and a number of their members made it to the summit without oxygen. I can only congratulate them on their efforts. Their attitude toward guided climbs is certainly nothing new, and based on his questions it was obviously based on ignorance and prejudice. It is “fashionable” to criticize guided climbs after the media feeding frenzy that accompanied the events on Everest in 1996.
9/28 ABC to Base Camp
I left ABC around 10 AM so I could take a leisurely hike down to Base Camp and enjoy the good weather. John and Greg followed shortly. John managed to catch up with me and pass me heading down. We lost Greg somewhere behind us and didn’t see him again until later.
Just above intermediate camp, I stopped to wait for a yak train to pass on a section of narrow trail. While I was waiting, I got out some food and water. Shortly, all the yak herders were gathering and, like a procession, they passed me holding out their bowls waiting for me to fill them. I didn’t have much water to spare, but I gave them each a little bit. The smiles I received in return were more than payment for this simple kindness. I felt oddly grateful to them for allowing me to share something. It’s strange, but such simple gestures seem to touch me the most.
I caught up with John a little above the river and we both hunted for a good place to cross. The river seemed lower than when we came in, and we ended up crossing at the broad spot at the end of the road. Greg finally caught up with us and we were vainly trying to signal to him about the best place to cross. He didn’t see us, and eventually John and I got tired of waiting and went ahead to Base Camp.
I felt relieved to finally reach Base Camp. Even though it didn’t take very long to get down from ABC, it seemed to signal the end of a long trip. A small part of me was disappointed the adventure was over, but the rest was very glad I was finally heading home.
When we rolled into camp, the Chinese invited us into their tent for fruit and beers. They had a good setup and were watching a Jackie Chan movie. They were glad to hear of our success. Ms. Chung was especially glad we were back as that meant she would finally be heading home. She spent a long time to be at Base Camp, and I’m sure she felt out of place and was bored out of her mind. It couldn’t have been a good trip for her.
While I was sitting in the Chinese tent, Ms. Chung came up to me and told me that she and Dorji, a Tibetan Liaison Officer, had been talking and could not understand how an engineer like me could work for an aerospace company. I found the question rather disturbing, but explained that people of many backgrounds work for aerospace companies. This seemed to keep her happy, for the time being, and I quickly left and went over to our tent to avoid any other questions. Obviously, they keep close track of the people who are on the expeditions. My Chinese visa lists my occupation as “Engineer” and sometime in our initial discussions she learned I work for an aerospace company. I found it disconcerting that they were so inquisitive about what I do. I make it a point to not discuss what I do on these trips, as I’d rather leave it behind. Besides, this is a vacation; I don’t want to discuss work on a vacation!
9/29 Base Camp to Zangmu
This morning we got up and began the process of packing up Base Camp for the drive out. We packed everything into the truck and headed out. After a brief stop in Tingri to drop off supplies for later, we were on the road to the border. Since it is so late, we will not be able to go all the way to Kathmandu in one day, so we will have to stop in Zangmu for the night before crossing the border into Nepal.
If the weather cooperates, we can get good views of Cho Oyu and Everest from Tingri. Cho Oyu was clouded in and Everest was barely visible. Further along the road, we had hoped to get a view of Shishapangma, but it was clouded in as well. Fortunately, I got to see them on previous expeditions, but I was hoping John and Greg would have a chance to see them.
Once we arrive at Zangmu, the first tradition is to go take a much-needed hot shower. At the hotel, the showers are located on the roof and have someone posted to direct people to an open stall. The unlimited hot water far overshadows the dingy conditions of the shower. It’s a simple luxury to take a shower and finally feel clean.
At dinner, Mr. Wong was plying us with drinks of some vile Chinese liquor. To be polite, all of us took a taste, but none of us wanted to drink too much of the stuff.
Zangmu is a classic border town with it’s associated bars, discos, and brothels. Last year we went on a tour of the discos in town and were out partying most of the night. This year, things seemed more sedate in Zangmu, so we ended up going out drinking for a while, but ended up turning in early. I think all of us are looking forward to getting home and are still tired from the exertion of the climb.
9/30 Zangmu to Kathmandu
After passing across the border between Tibet and Nepal, John, Greg, and I walked down the road toward Kodari. Between Zangmu and Kodari is a no-mans-land between countries. From Zangmu, which is high on the side of a hill, you descend a long way to Kodari, which is down at the base of the valley. It was a pleasant walk through lush green trees and dense moist air. It’s been a long time since we’ve seen trees and green growth, so it is a treat to the senses to walk down the road and smell the trees and flowers and hear the rushing waterfalls that are along the road.
Part of the way down the road, the trucks carrying our gear finally caught up with us and we piled in for the bumpy ride the rest of the way. Sections of the road near Kodari were washed out, so we had to unload the trucks. Porters who were waiting nearby gathered our gear and carried it down the rest of the way and across the Nepalese border to a waiting truck. I was impressed how easily they shouldered the heavy gear and how easily they climbed down steep, muddy paths – often barefoot. Apparently having the road wash out is a regular occurrence, so there is almost a permanent group of Nepalese around to carry loads and make a few extra rupees.
Kami went ahead to arrange the truck in Nepal and inadvertently took Phunuru’s passport with him. Phunuru waited sheepishly at the border while Pemba went to find Kami. It’s one of the few times I’ve seen Pemba upset. He’s usually the model of calm. The rest of us waited with Phunuru so he wouldn’t feel abandoned.
After passing through Nepalese customs, we piled into a bus in Kodari for the trip back to Kathmandu. This road follows the Bhote Kosi Valley and later the Sun Kosi. Both deep gorges with green terraced fields perched impossibly on the hillsides. Around noon we stopped in the small town of Barhabise along the road for a typical Nepalese lunch of daal bhaat, which is spiced lentils, with rice and chicken. We stopped at this place last year and everyone liked it. Both Tap and I were salivating in anticipation of stopping at this place. It is quaint and homey with tasty food. It seems like the Nepalese equivalent of stopping at McDonalds.
Food has become a major topic of conversation. It’s as though we can taste the delicious food we have ahead of us. Pemba’s cooking was excellent, but we’re looking forward to a change. Also, since we’ve come down in altitude our appetites have returned – with a vengeance. We had dinner in Thamel at a quasi-Mexican restaurant. I could have easily eaten two meals. I thought about it, but decided not to. Meals are very inexpensive in Kathmandu. A good steak meal usually only costs a few hundred rupee (~75 rupees per US dollar).
While we were in Thamel, Greg, John, and I went to an embroidery shop near Tom and Jerry’s bar that will make expedition t-shirts and patches. I had some shirts made there last year and they embroidered a good representation of Cho Oyu on them. Greg had a “Buddha eyes” pattern sown on the back of his jacket. They did a great job and it really looked classy.
10/1 Kathmandu
Today is our last day to catch up on any last minute shopping. After going to Great Escapes to pick up our airline tickets we headed to Thai Airways to change our flights and to get discount room voucher for the Amari hotel in Bangkok. John, Greg, and I then went into Thamel for some gifts. Greg picked up some Kukuri knives (the traditional Gurkha, or Nepalese soldier, knife), and I picked one up as well. While we in Thamel, I introduced them to the Rum Doodle, a classic climbers bar, where we had lunch. They were interested in seeing Durbar Square, the old part of Kathmandu where there are some of the classic pagodas and temples. We grabbed a cab and asked for Durbar Square. We ended up at one Durbar Square, but not the one we wanted! We walked around a little bit trying to get our bearings, until we broke down and found another taxi. John’s feet are still swollen from frostbite, so we don’t want to walk very far with him. The secret seemed to be to ask for Freak Street, which is near the Durbar Square we were actually looking for. Outside Durbar Square there was an open-air market that had more of the prayer bowls I had been hunting for – so I finally got everything on my gift list!
That night we took the Sherpas out to dinner at the Yak and Yeti, which is possibly the ritziest hotel in Kathmandu. Fortunately, there was a buffet there so we could eat our fill. I’m having no problem putting copious quantities of food away. Danuru, who was our Sherpa from the ’97 trip, was also our guest for dinner. In a nice way, his presence seemed to bring a close to this chapter in my Cho Oyu expedition history.
We met one of the German teams that summited Cho Oyu at the same time as us at the Yak and Yeti. Some of them were severely frostbitten and will likely lose fingers and toes. With the exception of John, who received some moderate frostbite, all of us escaped generally unscathed. Perhaps the use of oxygen helped in averting frostbite. I don’t know, but I feel fortunate to be coming home intact. Seeing how some of the other expeditions fared makes you realize that this “game” has a potential price associated with it. It is not to be undertaken lightly. A Korean expedition on another side of the mountain lost a number of Sherpas in an avalanche, some of whom our Sherpa knew. We found out later that on our side of the mountain, a member of another expedition died. Sometimes the price is extreme.
10/2 Kathmandu
We had a farewell breakfast with the Sherpas at Mike’s Breakfast. Afterwards, Pemba invited us to his apartment for a final farewell. It is rare to be invited to one of the Sherpa’s homes as they tend to be private about their lives in Kathmandu. We felt honored to spend this time with Pemba. He has a nice little one-room place that he stays at while he is in Kathmandu waiting to go on treks. Ever the perfect host, he was gracious in offering us beer (not very appetizing at 10 in the morning, but it would be impolite not to accept). Our glasses couldn’t go down an inch before he was right there filling them up again. He gave us each a thanka (painting on silk) as a parting gift as well as a kata around our necks for good fortune in traveling. He’s become quite a friend after three expeditions, and I will miss him.
On Thai Airways, they have a display that shows the speed, altitude, and position of the airplane while in flight. Much to our amusement, the plane from Kathmandu to Bangkok was flying at 8200 meters! So, when they talk about these mountains being as high as airplanes fly, they really mean it!
At the Amari hotel in Bangkok they have an excellent Thai food buffet. It’s delicious, and once again we could make pigs of ourselves. It was good to taste what real Thai food is like, rather than Americanized Thai food. The food there seemed to have a wider variety of tastes than what we get in America.
Now that it is over, I can’t but help feel satisfied in having climbed Cho Oyu. It was an incredible challenge and I feel like I was pushed to my limits. The physical strain was obvious as I lost a surprising 20+ pounds on the trip. I temporarily lost feeling in my toes and part of my foot as well. After the 1999 expedition, I seemed to experience a problem remembering names when I got back, but didn’t experience that after this trip. Tap said that the same occurred to him on a previous expedition as well. Despite the physical problems I experienced, I’d still go back and do it again at a moments notice!
There is something very addictive about this sort of extreme mountain climbing. Some of my fondest memories are from the times I’ve spent on these trips. Through my interactions with my teammates, the Sherpas, and the locals, I have learned that the most important part of my life has been the people with whom I’ve faced life’s challenges.