Sat 5th May 2012 Everest Base Camp

After breakfast we are told there will be a briefing at 10am.

Some people haven’t even surfaced this morning after the indulgences of the previous night. For special note seem to be Dan and Martin from WWTW. Martin slept the night in the White Pod and Dan suffered, not quite in silence, for many hours after the end of the party.

Once gathered in the White Pod, the smell of alcohol still in the ascendance, the mood was one of puzzlement. Did we misbehave that badly that we were all in for a group reprimand?

Then to add to the strange situation about 9 Sherpas, including the Head Sirdar, (Head Sherpa) Perbar Tashi joined us, sitting on the floor in front of Russ.

Russ then started off, hoping we had a good party. Seems like we are not in for a reprimand.

You could detect the emotion and sadness in his voice as he started off.

The Sherpa who suffered a stroke on the Icefall had deteriorated, was on life support and was almost certainly going to die. Russ said they were going to set up a Trust Fund for his dependents.

He then went on to say that he, the Sherpas and the Guides had never seen both the Icefall and the Lhotse Face in such a dangerous state. They still had some 120 loads to take through the Icefall between about 25 Sherpas which would mean additional 20 trips through the Icefall for each Sherpa. There was also no real chance that the Lhotse Face would be safe enough to climb this season.

As a result, having consulted extensively amongst the Ice Doctors (who maintain the Icefall), other expedition leaders, the Sherpas and Guides he had decided, with a very heavy heart and with great reluctance to cease the expedition with immediate effect.

You could cut the tension with a knife. There were tears in Russ’s eyes. It was difficult to believe.

He went on to say that the dangers to everyone were just too great to justify. They said that they expected a major disaster if everyone kept climbing this year although he hoped they were wrong.

Then Perba Tashi spoke, reiterating Russ’s words but then the emotion got to the better of him. This revered man who has been to the summit of Everest no less than 19 times left the room to hide his tears.

Another Sherpa spoke and then some members. We were all quite shocked but felt that this was why we were signed up to the best team in the valley. They had the courage to tell a lot of people who had paid a lot of money that it was too dangerous to proceed.

There were a lot of emotional scenes as the meeting broke up. I immediately followed Russ out to his office asked for his Trust Fund donation page. He hadn’t made one yet but he created one in his notebook. I made my donation. I was planning on taking a helicopter back to Kathmandu in order to be reunited with the one luxury I longed for more than anything else.....a bath and get home quicker. Now I would have to walk, the bath and my homecoming would have to wait!

Back at the White Pod everyone was consoling each other. Life dreams had been shattered. Sacrifices in terms of money and time had been in vain.

For some this was a one shot chance for others they were already planning to come back.

For me, I had already realised how many more things were more important than the summit of this mountain. Before I went up through the Icefall for the first time I really did stp and think about what my priorities were..

I enjoyed the physical challenge and enjoyed the journey, especially the trek into Base Camp, but I did not really enjoy the down time and the length of the whole process.

It has been a fantastic experience and given the chance I felt I would have stood on the summit. It would have hurt but I would have got there.

Do I feel an urge to come back and try again? No I don’t. It’s a huge commitment. It felt like such a long time away from family, friends, and work and there are so many other things to do, places to visit.

It’s off the ‘Bucket List’. Over a small Scotch one of the other climbers, Hector from Mexico said something very poignant.

He said ‘You have reached your Everest, you have got divorced, you have kept your house, your children are happy, your business is recovering and you are in love with your girlfriend. You want to go home, so go home’.

I realised he was completely right, the room went misty, I turned away to compose myself but it was no good. I wrapped my arms around him....... ‘You are bloody right... you wise old fart you are bloody right!’

I am coming home. If you want to see one of the most beautiful parts of the world you can just trek up here. If you want to stand on top of the world you have to like tents and spending a lot of time doing very little. If you want to enjoy the experience via a book or a television that’s cool too.

If it’s in you to do something then ‘just do it’. You will not know what you will discover out there or inside yourself until you do.

I wanted to do it, I did it. There is plenty more to do, something else has just replaced it on the Bucket List......it always does.

Good luck and happy travels.

Mark

Fri 4^rd May 2012 Camp 1 6500m to Everest Base Camp

Minus 20 Deg C, it is FREEZING this morning!

I am completely organised, hot chocolate, porridge, boots on, kit packed and am away with the first group at 4.55am. Mustard keen!

It has snowed a few inches overnight and I can appreciate the beauty of the Western Cwm as I scamper and skate on the ice and rocks behind the lead pair before we track midway into the middle of the valley. Weren’t we supposed to put on our crampons around here somewhere?

The sun is starting to shine on the mountains in front of us. It’s a wonderful sight.

It’s amazing how quickly we make our way down. It took me about 4 hours to come up from Camp 1 but will take me about an hour to get down!

Eventually we come to the first crevasse and ladder, just before Camp 1 then I realise all of the lead group already have there crampons on! I stop to put mine on but the bottoms of my boots are layered with packed snow so quite a few people catch and overtake me.

After passing Camp 1 we soon reach ‘Blood and Guts’ ladder. The start of the really dangerous part. I am with Doc, Alexis (TV man) with Wisey is just behind us, despite a couple of unscheduled quite traumatic ‘bathroom’ stops.

We can now see the Icefall in the light. It is indeed quite scary. Huge areas of ice up on the Western flank of Everest are poised to cascade down onto our path. Four to Six storey slabs have already split away from the main icefall, directly above us, leaning preposterously like a succession of Leaning Towers of Pizza. We have to proceed directly over the rubble field where a multitude of buried fixed ropes bear testimony to the number of icefalls and avalanches which have already taken place this year.

I note that Doc and Bruce (one of our guides) are not clipping into the fixed rope in order to speed up progress. In fact Bruce, who previously had been assisting us over the ladders, has now sprinted on ahead. This is so dangerous that as far as the guides are concerned it’s every man for him or herself.

We have just entered the top of the rubble field when it happens.

There is a loud crack and the sound of falling ice and snow.

A terror goes through my soul. I am completely stranded. There is nowhere to go.

Doc just below me stops in his tracks and turns to look up, expecting the worse.

Time stands still, where is the cascade of ice, snow and rock?

It doesn’t come; the fall is somewhere high behind us. There is no time to dwell, speed is of the essence. These falls seem to come in pairs.

We race through the Icefield, jumping small crevasses without clipping on the safety lines. It takes less than 20 mins to get to the safety of the ‘Football Field’.

Looking back upwards it’s a scene of destruction and looming destruction. We don’t dwell too long, it’s getting warmer and we still have the danger of the big and small popcorn to negotiate.

Progress is swift, don’t look up, don’t ponder, what happens happens. Concentrate on your technique; assess where to clip on and where not to.

There are still quite a few people coming up. Thankful to be going down and not up, down and down we go.

Eventually the Base Camp area comes into view and just after 815am, Harry, with three Sherpas are there on a small ice hillock with some hot sweet black Sherpa Tea.

As they have bothered to make the effort I stop to have a drink. Wisey, who is probably on a mission to find a civilised commode bypasses the tea stop.

Henry, Alexis, Doc and I enjoy the sunshine and the safety, and then make our way down and back to Base Camp.

There is a full English Breakfast awaiting; some of the Guides have a beer in hand.

Lots of man and a few woman hugs. It’s good to be home.

Showers, lunch, beers and whiskey.

A party is organised and just after supper Doc mans the decks, some people from another expedition have been invited and fro about 8pm the White Pod is transformed, once again, into the coolest, wildest night club in the valley.

Once again the acrobatic drunken climbers scale the White Pod metal frame until the early hours....but something is amiss. Where is Russ? No suited disco dancing entrance as before.

I retire at 1145am, just as the battery for the music runs out. I drift off to sleep as I hear them trying to start up the backup generators.

I later hear they get it working and continue until almost 3am. I am dead to the world, thankfully.

Thurs 3^rd May 2012 Camp 1 6500m

A rest day, but the LAST day up here.

More sadness yesterday as one of our Sherpas has a major stroke on the way down. He’s in a very bad way and is evacuated by helicopter to Kathmandu. His prognosis is not good.

There are more grumbles and at least on more fall of ice as the other group make their way down.

Today yet another climber gets hit on the Lhotse Face this time very seriously, in the face.

It takes four hours to get him down and our Doc, Francis, is involved.

The guy has a badly broken jaw, was unconscious for about an hour and has right hand side paralysis.

The helicopter arrives at Camp 2, some 22,000 ft in old money, on the very limit of the aircraft’s limit to make the evacuation.

An Italian pilot, very well known and admired locally makes an impeccable landing and at his own personal risk accepts the semi conscious patient into the left hand side seat (the patient could at anytime awake and act in a volatile manner).

He scoots off and turns down the valley, all within ground effect (within 10ft of the ground) due to the extreme altitude and off towards Lukla Hospital.

I pack, leave my downsuit up in one of the storage tents and after supper get to my tent for 8pm. Attempted sleep at 9am, alarm at 4am, off down at 5am. YIPPEE.

Don’t get too excited, it’s the gauntlet of the Icefall!

Weds 2^st May 2012 Camp 1 6500m

Groundhog Day.

We repeat the breakfast we did yesterday. We repeat the walk we did yesterday.

I set off a bit later than yesterday and don’t feel so good. I am one of the last up.

The lunch is similar to yesterday. The weather is the same as yesterday.

I almost join the ‘cards club’ but am just to slow to step in.

I am struggling with finding appropriate music on my Ipod, just like yesterday

Supper is similar to yesterday. Spam is involved for the fifth day running.

The wind blows the same as yesterday.

Tonight is my last night with Greg. He slips back into the ‘hole’. He has snored on previous nights but the wind has been louder. Tonight he ups his game dramatically. It’s an Olympic effort.

The falling into me, the wind, his snoring.... I can take my pick of any to ensure I get almost zero sleep. It’s a fantastic all round effort to make me determined, that come what may I will carry my own tent up to the Camp 2 next time to guarantee I don’t have to go through this again.

He is up at 4am to leave Camp at 5am to return to Base Camp. Lucky blighter, at least I have the tent on my own for the last night.

By the way he is a lovely bloke....providing he is sleeping next to SOMEONE ELSE !!!

Tues 1^st May 2012 Camp 1 6500m

Not feeling great. Greg is talking to me ...just. I suggest he might like to relay his floor to avoid any more personal injury! Meaning the rocks of course.

We all go for a hike up to the bottom of the Lhotse Face. It’s supposed to be an hour and a half yomp with 200m vertical height gain but I seem to be able to keep up with the lead group and do it within an hour. Good for confidence. Photos and down within 30 mins.

Lunch and the news that yet more people have been injured on the Lhotse Face and we are definitely not going up to Camp 3. Apparently one of the world’s most famous female climbers, Gerlinde Kaltenbrunner and her husband had spent the previous night at Camp 3 and suffered one of their most frightening nights on a mountain due to the hail of rocks smashing onto and around their tent. This is a woman who has summated all the worlds’ 8,000m peaks without Oxygen.

Another enormously boring afternoon. I am joined in the tent by Greg. It is stiflingly hot even with the vents and doors open. Then when the wind gusts its icy cold.

Still three nights to go.

With the news that we are not going to Camp 3 my morale fades.

Whilst there are some really taxing physical days I know I can do 8 and 9 hour days. On Mont Blanc my summit day was 14 hours. I always go at a pace that I can sustain for 8 or 9 hours. It’s a mental thing because this is where I want to be, this is what I want to be doing.

It’s easier at 50 than it was at 21 years old because you have chosen to be here and don’t want to be elsewhere, to be in a pub, by a pool or making money however the mental strain of the lack of cerebral stimulation is clearly something that is getting to me.

Some people are good at spending day after day with the same group of people in the same place essentially waiting. Yes we are acclimatising but there are so many hours of emptiness. I have no communication, no worries, no book, and no stimulation.

These are my issues. From seeking periods of peace and quiet in my ‘normal’ busy life to this. This, rather than anything else may provide the limitation to my mountaineering aspirations. It just takes too long!

Tonight the wind is really up and I sleep is again poor although Greg’s ‘ground works’ have improved our sleeping inter contact.

Mon 30^th April 2012 Camp 1 6500m

I awake and despite my wind interrupted sleep feel good.

After breakfast I decide to go for a ‘bimble’. As much to try on my downsuit as to take some exercise. We will be using downsuits to go any higher, onto camp 3 and above.

 I get it out in my tent and ensure the price tag and shop label has been taken off. Not so good for ‘Mountain Street Cred’ otherwise!

It’s a bright red North Face ‘Telly Tubby’ suit as it’s probably half a size too big for me.

I have to adjust my harness to allow for the extra bulk and off I go.

I just wander up the hill for 30 mins or so then wander back. Job done, it’s quite hot so next time I will wear fewer layers underneath. Mission accomplished I wander into lunch in a fairly sanctimonious mood as only Francis (the Doc from WWTW) has also ventured out.

No we begin to learn that the Lhotse Face is in a very dangerous state. Already over the past two days five people have been hit by falling rocks. The mountain is very ‘dry’. Meaning that very little snow has fallen for some weeks and therefore there is nothing to bind the smaller rocks, up to the size of footballs, to the slope. The face is some 1300 to 1800m high (4,500 to 6,000ft) so these rocks are almost at terminal velocity (120-180mph). They can and will kill.

The guides and Sherpas are so concerned that they are considering not going to Camp 3 because of the danger.

Later that day two more people are reported to have been hit. One has sustained a major shoulder injury, the other a hand injury. \For both of them their expeditions are over.

I rest but try not to sleep in the afternoon. Already I am as bored as I have been for a very long time.

Tonight my tent partner Greg, a 58 year old American, has removed some stones from his side of the tent, causing a dip and I spend the whole night initially gently nudging him and latterly not so gently nudging him as he keeps ‘falling’ on me.

I am not sure if he is going to talk to me in the morning! Meanwhile the wind howls and crashes against our tent.   

Sun 29^th April 2012 Camp 2 6500m

Rest Day

After my immense sleep I actually feel totally refreshed in complete contrast to yesterday when, apart from completing the London Marathon in 2005 (when suffering from a stomach bug and in unseasonably hot sunshine) I have never felt so exhausted.

My moments of exhaustion and emotion were captured by the TV crew doing the WWTW documentary. Just my luck my only moment of fame will be a crying mess in amongst the soy sauce and tomato ketchup bottles!

This is only day 2 at Camp 2. We are scheduled to stay here 3 more nights, then go up to camp 3 halfway up the Lhotse face and back for another night at Camp 2 before going down to Base Camp.

Even by the end of this first day I am regretting not bringing up a book (in the interests of weights and space) as there is the Mess Tent or my ‘shared’ tent and nowhere else to go.

Our tent has a ‘card’ circle who once the meals are finished dive into their game. They are playing ‘Hearts’, a kind of reverse trumps where the aim is to end up with as few a points as possible. Only Hearts and the Queen of Spades score. It looks intimidatingly fiendish and I lack the courage to force my way in if one of the ‘players’ is temporarily absent.

1230 lunch, afternoon nap, 5.30pm supper, bed around 8pm, listen to music sleep around 10pm after listening to my IPod.

Tonight the wind howls around the tent. Huge gusts can be heard approaching, just like a train and then batter and shake the tent with such ferocity that you are immediately awoken and wonder how the tent has not collapsed. In fact we learn that it is only due the tents being occupied that in this wind they do not literally fly off the mountainside.

Sleep is a pattern of drifting in and out of consciousness between seemingly hurricane force winds.

Sat 28^th April 2012 Everest Base Camp 5300m to Camp 2 6500m

I didn’t have time to post the experience of the previous group’s journey up to Camp 2. On the way through the Icefall they were narrowly missed by two avalanches / ice breakaways. Either of which could have been fatal. Then when the whole group, apart from Annie and Amanda (who had turned back to stay at Camp 1) had passed amp 1 they were again narrowly missed by a huge avalanche off the Nuptse (right hand side) face. This was so large that the ensuing snow blast and cloud flowed all the way down the Icefield and caused us to rush out of our briefing assuming there had been a massive failure within the Icefield and tens of people had been caught in it.

Incredibly, because it was just after ‘Sherpa Rush Hour’ and sheer good luck, only one Sherpa was caught in it. He was picked up and dumped in a crevasse and was found within the hour suffering from three broken ribs, a fractured skull and hypothermia. He was helicoptered out and is recovering in Kathmandu. If Annie and Amanda had not turned back they would have been caught in the middle of it and would not have stood much of a chance.

Friday afternoon I wrote a hasty will and wrote letters to my children, Olivia and my parents with instructions where to find them on my computer should something happen to me.

I was worried, as were we all. I don’t want to die just yet, but I am not pulling out and will accept the fortunes and fate which await me. I am greedy for life but not willing to step into a bag of cotton wool just yet.

Its times like this which teach you the value of life, what is important to you, what your priorities really are. Suddenly climbing this mountain is not THAT important. Other things are much more important.

No matter, I am still going to face my fears and climb tomorrow.

Up at 12am for a 1am departure.

Every single detail and action planned to the minute. Up dressed and about to get to breakfast bang on time when ...... yup you’ve guessed it. Nature calls, there is a queue so by the time I get to the mess tent for porridge and hot chocolate I am just about the last to arrive!

‘C’mon Mark, you should have eaten by now’ Russ encourages! Mild stress builds up, I multi task, putting on my harness and repacking kit whilst gulping spoonfuls of porridge and hot chocolate. Just like being back in the bloody Royal Marines!

I am ready, five minutes before the deadline! Where is Russ to offer apologetic praise now?

We set off; it’s cold but not too cold, about minus 10 Degrees C.

It’s a 25 minute walk to the crampon point, the pace is reasonable. We don our crampons as we take to the Icefield, off the rocky path, then the pace quickens somewhat.

I keep up for the first hour but then the group splits effectively in two with me in the second group. We encounter our first large crevasse, spanned by two ladders bound together and secured with two ‘safety lines’ either side into which we clip in. Should we fall hopefully these lines will ensure we don’t fall hundreds of feet to our death.

The first wobbly crevasse crossing under our belts the Icefield steepens as we continue through what is known as the smaller ‘popcorn’. These are blocks of ice which stand between 1 to 2m high. After almost 2 hours we encounter the larger popcorn, ice blocks of between 2 to 4m high. More ladder crossings (there are some 25 such crossings in the Icefield). Any of these blocks might fall at any time and if they do, one is ‘toast’. The exertion of the climb does a great job of keeping any fear at bay.

We then reach a relatively flat open ‘safe’ area known as ‘the football field’ after almost three hours.

Here we take a quick break as from this point, for the next 50 minutes or so comes the most dangerous passage of the Icefield. The group which came through the previous night had two ice avalanches which they had to avoid and which rattled quite a few of the climbers and guides.

As we progress up this quite steep section the evidence of previous ice falls is obvious. Great blocks the size of fridges strewn in a long path through which we have to pick our way. Fixed lines partly submerged from previous falls and new rope hastily fixed to replace them.

As I round a corner there is suddenly a loud rumbling from high up ahead. I am midway through the main rubble covered path of a great many previous avalanches. My worst fears may have come to be. I have no obvious cover. I look up ahead expecting to see a great white wave heading towards me. I am tired and with nowhere to go I just accept my fate. A very strange acceptance, if death is to be now then I feel a strange peace. The wait is only seconds but it feels like minutes.

 Luckily the fall has not come down my channel and I am spared. I continue upwards.

I later learn that the group up ahead hear one big crack and rumble but see nothing. Then a few minutes later there is much bigger crack and rumble followed by a major ice fall (which is what I heard). In a rather comical manner (in retrospect) three of our climbers and two Sherpas ended up taking separate evasive action seeking sanctuary on top of the same large ice block to the right of the path of the avalanche. There was a Tom and Jerry style scramble in which it was every man for himself but only room for barely three of the five as the ice and snow stream and ensuing cloud enveloped them all. The last two having to cling to the rear side of the block as best they could. All avoided injury.

Onwards and upwards I plod. Across the crevasses, ladders, until we reach the safety point of a large crevasse crossing known as ‘Blood and Guts ladder’. Sadly, some ten days previously a Sherpa from another team had not clipped onto the safety lines and had fallen. He sustained a major head injury and when recovering the body his blood had covered the sides of the crevasse. Another gory reminder of the dangers of this mountain.

As we neared Camp 1 we encountered a very cold wind which after the quite hard and sweaty work of the Icefield chilled to the very bone and a number of our group took refuge in one of the Camp 1 tents at 6,100m. Its 6am, we have been climbing for 5 hours.

We boil water and try and eat something, the wind has really picked up and it’s almost 7am before we continue onto Camp 2.

Almost immediately I begin to feel weak. The stop really hasn’t done me any good and our group of five splits into two with myself and Carl (one of the WWTW) at the back. I think the relief of surviving the Icefall has taken its toll as well.

After an hour we can see our destination, or so we think. The immense beauty of the Western Cwm is just about lost on me as I struggle for energy along the snowfield which leads up the middle, then veers off to left-hand side to the string of some hundred tents which make up Camp 2.

When we are about 300m from the nearest tents I radio in our position and estimate that we will be in camp within 30 mins. Adrian (chief guide), upon hearing this quickly corrects my eta as 1 hour 45 mins. I am too tired to respond but assume he has made a mistake.

He hasn’t. We are the very last camp in the line and Carl and I arrive exhausted, at about 11am. The sun has been out for the last hour and a half and transformed the valley from an icy wind blown freezer to an oven hot inferno in a matter of minutes.

On entering the mess tent I am very emotional with exhaustion and relief at ........well still being alive. Everyone has found it hard but Carl and I are totally and utterly drained.

Lunch is served at 1230pm. I have just sat, head on the table or in my hands trying to rehydrate and recover, hardly speaking for an hour and a half. I eat some of the lunch then make my way to the tent to collapse for a few hours. With no energy I accept the uncomfortable large rocks underneath my bed mat and just curl up around them to minimise the discomfort.

Supper at 5.30pm. I manage to eat all of it. Carl is still in a bad way

I get back to my tent at 7pm. I have the energy to move some rocks. Asleep by 8pm, I sleep the sleep of the dead until 8am. I am feeling much, much better. I might still be able to climb this mountain after all!