Francisco’s parents have been in Kathmandu since the 20th, so he’s been investigating helicopter flights to save time and in the essence of speed but man are they expensive. As in, they can cost as much as $5600 for 3 people. Not this guy. That’s too expensive when I have feet that still move underneath me. So as for the rest of the team we’ll be hoofing it.

All day, we packed. Our gear, team gear. Comm equipment, cooking equipment. It all was packed up by the collective team, one piece at a time.

That night, we treated the team to a special meal- we (Bridey, me, Francisco, Willie) cooked the Sherpas and cook team dinner, kicking them out of their tents and setting the table for them in the community shelter. We put out a deli plate, a giant vat of Thai Chili, rice, and threw in a DVD for them to watch while eating. Somewhere, Sherpas unearthed two cases of beer to pass out. It was all great fun, even if they were extremely uneasy with us in the cook tent unattended. At least five times, we caught one or two peeking in to see what was happening and verify that we weren’t about to burn down the tent.

It was a perfect way to close out the evening and the expedition, and they loved it just as much as we did.

We spend ~3 to 4 hours breaking camp. The goal here being to get everything out of Camp II so that noone has to go back up and pick it up as we “clean” the mountain.

This includes cook tents, stoves, food, personal gear, and even.. yes, garbage. Despite the mountain of trash that we found initially, and even the second mountain that emerged from the snow as the sun beat down on the camp, we are hauling out our trash. I wish I could say the same for every other team, but we did. I’m conscience clean about how we left Camp II. I wont point any fingers on other teams, but let’s just say that over the weeks spent in Camp II purgatory, I saw an awful lot of trash that seemed at first glance to have Hongul printed all over it. There, I won’t say any more.

Over time, the camp began to resemble nothing more than a few overloaded packs and a jumble of rocks.. we were almost ready. I think my pack weighed somewhere in the neighborhood of 70 lbs and Willie’s must have weighed over 100- easily. It was so heavy that we had to pull him up onto his feet.

In order to haul everything from Camp II, we set up a series of Drag Bags- items wrapped up in burlap & canvas that we can pull behind ourselves via ropes. I ask aloud about why things aren’t stored in secure boxes & storage containers at Camp II so that next year this system doesn’t have to be repeated, but the answer is that the weather can be so severe up here that it just wouldn’t work. Ok, well at least I asked.

My Drag Bag is filled with.. garbage. Yep, there’s that garbage again. 70 lbs of gear on my back nd I’m dragging this stupid trash bag through the snow behind me to Camp I. Hey, what can you do? I could be sitting in a cubicle getting old and watching my butt get fat like Bob Combs, right? So, in some respects it could be worse.

I’m confident Willie wants to bring it down, but also equally confident that once it makes it to Camp I and a Sherpa has to haul it down to Base Camp from there that it’s going to end up in a bottomless crevasse with a bunch of Korean trash. when he’s not looking. Hell, enroute to Base Camp?? I think it crossed my mind at every crevasse ladder. Ugh. But haul on I did, and tried my best to keep up with Willie and Francisco through what turned into a driving snowstorm.

And talk about a challenge. Yee cats. I already hate those aluminum ladders, some of which can be notorious. This trip I have heard story after story about ladders flipping unexpectedly on people, people falling off the side of one, people dangling from safety ropes for two whole hours before someone happened along and found them. Now add to the equation two things- tons of snow falling, making the trail all but obscured except if you stop every two steps to see where the trail leads you as you navigate the crevasse-infested Western Cwm. And a 40 lb trash bag.

So here I am, taking my time on the ladders, one step at a time. Left hand on my trekking pole, right hand holding this stupid trash bag which is still tied to me, AND the ladder guide rope. Ladder is all bouncy bouncy bouncy, snow falls off the bottom of my crampons as loose flakes blow by me in the driving storm. I can’t believe I did all that for the sanctity and purity of Sagarmartha National Park. Some climber about 100 years from now hopefully will appreciate it.

We pull into Camp I, which is essentially under four feet of drift snow now from when we first arrived. Tents are still there, but it looks like a high Himalayan equivalent of a Wild West Ghost Town. Noone is using this camp other than to transit through. We dump our Drag Bags and try to probe for crevasse while reganing the trail out of Camp I, through the Icefall and down to Base Camp.

From Camp I, it was absolutely slow going- ultimately, it had to be. Heavy, driving snow and wind stayed with us for at least 600 vertical feet of our downclimb through the Icefall. Down, down, down we climbed- through the upper Icefall, past Crazy Ladder 4, 3, 2 and then finally 1. Through the Soccer Field, and then the Popcorn Field. We heard two enormous avalanche calve off of LoLa Face, but it was too cloudy and snowy to see anything so we all just flinched and then relaxed when we realized we weren’t in jeopardy.

Then we hit the waves at the end of the Icefall, and it was only then that we realized that we were safe- we were almost at Base Camp. Seven hours after leaving Camp II, we staggered in, weak smiles and extremely tired backs. We made it- “home”. That night, Francisco and I reminisced about our two months here. Willie came in, exhausted smile and sunburned face to tell us that we are leaving in two days. The boys in the kitchen cooked us a celebration cake, Bridey gave us all hugs in congratulations and we were able to finally release.

Up at Camp IV, life is rugged and dealing with death takes on a bit of a macabre tone. Placed in a sleeping bag and then tent, the body of someone who manages to be lucky enough to make it to Camp IV before passing is essentially prepared for the massive labor and financially astronomical cost of getting it back down to Base Camp. Sherpas won’t touch bodies of climbers, so it’s a western effort. And then there it sits, all wrapped up with climbers then walking in and around the bundle without paying it a second glance after a while. That’s life at the South Col, where everyone up here knows the score. Everyone is also here for a reason, so as shitty a deal as it is for those who paid the ultimate price, everyone has an immense amount invested at the point where they arrive at Camp IV and are still going to take their shot. And in a way, even if it takes a season to get the body down, at least their fate will not be that of Scott Fisher or one of several others who died halfway to The Balcony and who everyone now passes within feet of the trail.

Anyway. The guys prepared breakfast for us, and then we struck camp, ready to head out.

Another team approached Willie about another critically ill team member who had survived the night somehow but still suffered from snow blindness, and needed to get down in elevation for his HAPE condition to improve. Last night, this is one of the climbers who we offered up some of our extra oxygen to in order to try and help his condition, which it clearly had. Willie treated the climber, wrapped his eyes. and prepared him for the long trip out without the use of his eyes.

In all seriousnes, I can’t think of many places I would rather be when I lost the use of my eyes. Getting down from South Col- the Genva Spur, Yellow Band and than thousands of feet of the Lhotse Face. That would be horrible. Yet here is this climber, acting all high and mighty as if he doesn’t need Willie’s help. I think would have listened to two sentences of his guff and then left him in the care of his team lead. Especially if after all that the guy still has an attitude.

So it was up to Tendi, Danuru, Francisco and I to get ourselves down to Camp II, so off we went.

We approached the Geneva Spur, headed down and within a short time were down off the Geneva Spur, and over the Yellow Band.

For some reason, the Lhotse Face seemed to take mush longer than I remembered it, and to make matters better, it started snowing. We passed team after team on their way up and while we wished them luck, I had to wonder where all these people were coming from. That, and with the weather deteriorating, would they get their shot? I hope the answer to that second question is a yes, but the weather around here is so squirrley that it can be tricky when estimates are made.

By the time we were below Camp III, all of us were flat-out exhausted. Everyone was carrying heavy loads, Danuru’s crampon kicked out on him and we were still a bit wiped from yesterday’s summit effort. The snow kept coming down, even harder than before. Wind kicked up a little, and then, as I rounded one corner, I saw a familiar face- Super Mila. This guys is incredible. Absolutely incredible. He knows from last year when he summited how tired everyone is, so what does he do? Most Sherpas and cook staff will wait at the base of the Lhotse Face with drinks for their team. Super Mila doesn’t do that- he climbs almost 400 vertical feet up the Face itself to bring us drinks. He’s absolutely amazing.

Finally, the three of us emerged from our tent to start gearing up and saw why Willie was stressed. Tents lit up everywhere, climbers already gearing up. Headlamps twinkled all over Camp IV.

Willie had already made it clear across the South Col at all the major teams that he planned on departing at 8 with the intent of moving forward to complete rope fixing that remained to be done from a major terrain feature known as the South Rock Step up to the summit. No small task, given that rope needed to be hauled in addition to fixed along loose snow and crumbly rock on steep faces. This job would go all the way through the South Summit, along the summit ridge, past the Hillary Step and up to the summit itself. Willie has done this job over the last two years and is fully comfortable doing the job again this year.. now if only he can get some help. Lots of “ohh, I can’t spare anybody right now” or “how about this compromise? I’ll bring 100 meters of rope with me when I follow you up a few hours later”. Ridiculous. Danuru Sherpa from IMG was the exception, an extremely strong Sherpa being more or less voluntold that he was going to help out with the Mountain Madness fixing team of Willie and Tendi.

So because of all this drama unfolding up at 26,100′, most major teams understood the concept of a fixing team taking a little while once underway. Because of that, they would depart the South Col to move up the Ice Shelf one hour later than our team would. However, there exists on Everest something akin to Freeloaders. These groups pay bargain basement prices to come climb here, typically run without Sherpas, and will poke around to gain whatever benefit they can without having to pay for it. We saw one of these Freeloaders at Camp III, looking for an unoccupied tent to crash and sleep in when the owners who hauled it up the Lhotse Face were elsewhere. Easier that way, right? No need to haul a tent up that crazy Face.

We also saw two Freeloaders ascending up the Ice Shelf from Camp IV last night, who must have heard “rope fixing team leaving at 8, everyone else is leaving at 9″, and decided that they were jump in front of the train. Sorry, Charlie. Willie came up on these two, gave them a nice sunburn and they fell back, inconsequential and I’m sure feeling a little foolish at being called on their actions.

Oxygen regulators we are using have the following flowmeter settings: .5, 1, 1.5, 2, 3, 4.While there are .5 and 1.5 settings used when crashed in the tent, you can also set for half settings between 2 and 4 liters/ minute, with 4 being the highest setting. Most people were using 2.5 as their climb setting, but I prefer 3 because I’m bigger than the average bear and because after using my reg for a few days I know that my reg isn’t calibrated properly and administers a lower dose. So, 2.5 on my reg is closer to 2.2.

And so this little game of back & forth ensues. I set for 3, then Tendi sees 3 and drops it back to 2.5. I quietly turn it back up, and Danuru looks half an hour later and drops it back again. In the mean time, my climbing speed zig zaws back and forth as I feel like I can breathe, and then can’t again. As we set off from Camp IV and onto the Ice Shelf I had set 3 and was feeling great with lots of speed. This didn’t matter though, because as usual Willie is off like a shot up the Triangle Face and through the rock bands below The Balcony. The entire team was doing well and moving at a fast pace, making our first objective and doing so quickly enough that Willie told us that we needed to slow down.. and then adjusted my air flow. Oh, great. Right before the hardest part of tonight’s climb. He warned us to put on mitts because it was about to get cold. Quite literally ten minutes later, the wind kicked up and snow blew everywhere. Talk about timing.

At The Balcony, the route angles sharply and follows a loose snow ridgeline up and around in a gentle yet steep arc. Where that arc meets the South Rock Step it turn downright nasty. Loose snow with no traction, hiding crumbly rocks on an extremely steep angle. The snow chute that leads up to the South Summit must be close to 1000′ in elevation all portions told, and some portions of the rock, snow and ice trail are definitely near vertical. I looked up at Willie, only visible thanks to his reflectors as he roped up the trail. Francisco and I wondered aloud this brief and muffled conversation through our masks:

“Dude, how are we going to get up this thing?”
“I do not know. But more importantly, how are we going to get down?”
“I have no idea. Can you turn me back up to 3?”

Your lungs are aching, even with the oxygen. Willie and Danuru (IMG, not ours) continue to rope and climb higher. Unexpectedly, Danuru (ours) falls out of the climb with stomach pains. And then there were four. Wow, what an amazing turn of events. Tendi then becomes a full-fledged oxygen bottle porter for the team and slows way down. “Hey, put it to 3, that’ll help you out,” someone yells. “Doug, come here and let me see your regulator”. Dammit.

So at 28,000′ our summit push team now consists of: Willie, Francisco, Me, Tendi

Oh well, drive on drive on. At one point as Francisco and I scambled up one particularly nasty stretch of rock in the pitch black, we again started a muffled conversation about how we were going to get down, after all. I have to admit, that lingering question stayed with me throughout the South Rock Step portion of the climb. But. Onward and upward we went. Higher and higher. The full moon was out and cast it’s bluish ghostly hue over everything. It was so bright that you could clearly make out Camp II, not to mention hundreds of mountain tops now far below. It was truly beautiful. I’d show you a picture of it, but my camera doesn’t take night shots very well (or more realistically I don’t know how to work it’s new-fangled settings).

Occasionally, we would get a gust of wind,. but for the most part the sky stayed deathly still. At one point, high on the loose snow ramp leading up to the South Summit I even heard another guide radioing Willie from The Balcony, at that point 500′ down. I don’t mean I heard the radio chatter, I mean I heard the guide talk, and then a split second later heard the radio come through Willie’s radio 100′ up the slope. You could hear the “clink” of jumars clicking home, the chalkboard “screech” of crampons on rock and the mechanical Darth vader noise of regulators pressing O2s, now back at a rate of 3 liters/minute thanks to a plea to Francisco which thankfully worked.

Oh, and speaking of which. Try taking off your regulator for a second if you want to know just how high you truly are. Tom L who works on the 787 at Boeing will know, since he has to make jets fly at this altitude. Yeesh. Immediately after taking one breath at this altitude you become dizzy, tired, and slump over. Personally, I think statistics aside on accident rates and summit successes when comparing those who try Everest with O2 vice those who try without- those who try without are off their rockers. Wait’ll you see a post I’m in the process of working on for a day or two down the road about a Swiss guy who tried without. He made it to the summit all right. But he’s now wrapped up in a sleeping bag & tent at the South Col until likely next season when conditions are right to safely bring him down & turn over to his family. No joke.

Up and up we went. At times when using my headlamp to spot Willie, I’d be looking at his reflectors and straight up to stars. It was beautiful, exhilarating, exhausting and vertical all wrapped into one experience. Around 4am, I looked off to the east and to faint glow of sunrise appeared. We had already “made” the South Summit- success! Actually, it appeared before we really expected it and were thrilled to take a break. We knew from discussion that from there, it was only about another 1 1/2 hours to the actual summit, so it was a wonderful feeling to know we were so close. It was also here that I think it truly sunk in- we were going to make it.

From the South Summit, very little remains as far as obstacles for the True Summit- a traverse along this crazy ridge that you put a foot down on and to the left you can look between your legs straight down to Camp II (SE Ridge), and then the famed Hillary Step. The weather wasn’t just cooperating, it was turning into what we knew was going to be a downright beautiful morning. It was also here that my camera decided that it would start allowing me to take pictures. Happy day, happy day. Looking to the west, where the full moon still graced the horizon, this is what the view looked like:

- South Summit at Dawn-

As the sun slowly crept up, all sorts of oranges, reds and yellows began to hit the tips of the summit ridge. Given how high we were compared to every other point on earth, we were the first to see the sun and watch the rays dance on the rocks and ice. Completely windless, we quickly switched oxygen bottles for the final push and then set out along a ridgeline that only six other people had walked on this year.

- Dawn- South Ridge-

-Everest South Ridge-

After about 20 minutes, we reached the last, final technical part of our climb: the Hillary Step. I have read about this 40′ rocky outcrop, seen pictures of it, and wanted to climb it for years. To see it with my own eyes- wow. Let’s just say that this particular formation of rock and ice has been something I have looked forward to, but have known all along that in order for me to climb on it, I’d have to put in some serious effort just to get there. Oh, man do you have to put in serious effort. And so, here we are, walking up on the Hillary Step with relative ease and quite quickly. It all happened so quickly- there it is, here we are, here we go, we are climbing it now.

- Doug- Hillary Step-

Personally, I can’t say that I fuond the Hillary Step to be all that difficult, but understand that it’s quite different today from what Sir Ed and Tenzing Norgay found 55 years ago. Then, it was an unclimbed obstacle. Today there are so many ropes dangling down it from past seasons that when you grab them collectively it feels like a ship anchor rope. But I don’t want to take away from the experience, which I found pretty damn cool. It’s about 40′ high for sure. When you are about to get onto the Step you look to your left and see down to Camp II, to yoru right there is a single foothold- that’s it. Miss that, and it’s an express ride to Tibet. You essentially grab hold of the 5 or 7 ropes that dangle down the almost vertical face and wedge one foot in between the rock and snow. There are about 15 footholds that lead you up to a series of rocks that you have to wiggle through until you arrive at one that you have to do this weird squat/hop to navigate around and over. Now try that with crampons on and that 8,000′ drop inches away. That definitely gets your blood going. Then -poof- you cut around a corner to ascend up a snow ramp, and congratulations, you have just navigated the Hillary Step.

- Hillary Step-

- View to China from Hillary Step-

I have to say, going up the Hillary Step is great because there’s a natural flow to ascending, and when we were going up there were only like 5 of us even in that general vicinity on the mountain. But on the way down the place was a mob scene and we had to wait for ten people to keep popping their head through the rock before we were able to hand-over-hand our way back down the Step. From this little notch where Francisco and I were waiting, it looked like a 29,000′ game of Whack-a-Mole the way they kept popping up.

Next stop, the summit. Once you complete the Hillary Step, we were golden. It’s about a 20 minute, 300 vertical foot trek to the top from there, mostly along a gentle slope composed of ice and scree.

- Everest Summit Pinnacle-

Fixing lines the entire way, Willie had beated us to the summit by roughly 40 minutes. So to him, this is what it looked like as the three of us approached the summit carefully and happily:

- Rest of team approaching Summit-

Willie: 21 May, 06:05- his eighth Mt Everest summit
Tendi, Doug & Francisco: 21 May, 06:45- our first Mt Everest summit, Tendi’s sixth

There are hardly any clouds, zero wind and a warm, nourishing sun. It couldn’t be any more perfect and you can see forever. Words can’t describe the feelings of happiness and exhilaration at reaching this goal after so many months of effort and teamwork.

- Team Summit Pic-

- Willie Summit Pic-

- Francisco Summit Pic-

- Doug- Everest Summit w US Flag-

As with last night, the team is all loaded for the push in their tents- down suits on and oxygen masks attached. The team well be leaving the South Col about 8am PST.

Our team arrived at Camp III in early afternoon, and without the comfort of a main dining tent, most time that high is spent curled up in a sleeping bag. The biggest responsibilities are to stay clipped to the fixed lines when outside the tent, and to eat as much as you can. Often times, you can’t eat anything, in all seriousness. It’s almost like a pinch-your-nose-and-shovel-it-down. Because of that, we have packed a bunch of our most favorite foods in small quantities that are super-easy to eat:
Hot chocolate, cider, beef jerky, soup, MRE packets that you just boil in water and can chow down on. The point being that we need energy for higher on the mountain, and there’s really only one way to get it. Shovel it in, buddy.

We have started using oxygen and will continue using it until we are right back at Camp III after the summit. Ahh.. Oxygen. Nourishing oxygen. Providing us with energy and the ability to proceed at a regular pace once we leave Camp III, we initially set at 2 liters per-minute and can adjust from there.

The plan is to depart Camp III tomorrow early again around 7am, and will hopefully arrive at the South Col by early afternoon. All going well, we will only spend a few hours before kicking off the summit bid that evening.
Overall, everyone is in high spirits and feeling good.

At this point, most of our decisions hang on the weather forecast, which is proving to be a moving target but we will continue to press on and hope for the best. There is still a potential issue with some depression in the Bay of Bengal that could disrupt our plans. Once we move to Camp III, we will
begin using oxygen that night, which is a committing move, so we want to be right. As with last year, Willie will be fixing ropes above The Balcony and up to the summit, so even if there are dozens of climbers going on the night of the 20th, we won’t experience the famous backlogs that can trap groups at choke points like the Hillary Step- at least not on the way up. It also means that all things working out the way they should, we will be the first intended summits on the South Side for this season. With the Olympic Torch, 18 people have summitted on the North side, which is usually the case but unique this year. Technically easier, the North side typically puts people on the summit much earlier than via Nepal but this year, that should be the only numbers that they provide while the South side will be a mob scene through the end of May.

All of the team- Sherpas, Members, and Team Leads are all reporting excellent health. Over the course of this climb the team has spent over 10 days at Camp II and at this point are well acclimatized to 21,000 feet. Pretty amazing to think about, especially for those of us used to the scale
in the States, where Mt Rainier is 14,410′ and the highest point, Mt McKinley is 20,320′. So we are well rested and now acclimatized to a point even higher than the roof of North America. Amazing that this has taken more than two months to accomplish, and is now here. More amazing is the amount of time, effort, and sacrifice that has gone into this challenge.

The Sherpas made it to the South Cole today and back safe. Overall all is well and we will be heading to Camp III at 6am tomorrow morning.

Last night, we all went to bed earlier than usual thanks to a 4am start, yet some of us not sleeping as well as we’d like.  This is an exciting time for sure, and the move up the Icefall, past Camp I and on to Camp II is one of the more effort-driven portions of the climb.  Super Mila is at Camp II to provide us with some great food, replacing Indra who was transferred to another camp.  There are some mixed feelings about this but very few complaints given our previous experiences at Camp II.  I think Francisco and I even high-fived at one point. 

Today went well, the team is going strong and feeling good. We took less than 6 hours to get to Camp 2 and the Sherpas took just under 4 hours.

Tomorrow is a rest day at Camp II and while we would rather get going to Camp III, we recognize the need for patience, time to rest and repair, and most importantly to allow our bodies the ability to acclimatize.

I’ll have to paraphrase this, because I can’t research the direct quote from here.  But, I remember the jist of it- Teddy Roosevelts “Man in the Arena” speech:  “Far better it is to dare mighty things than to take legion with those poor, timid spirits who know neither victory nor defeat”.  The point being:  Never give up, never give in.  Keep going, and always, when given the chance, chase your dreams. Push yourself. How else can you know what you are capable of? And then when it’s all over, and when you have succeeded in your goal?  It’s all the more sweet.  You relish life and all it has to offer, making every day a blessing and feeling better about yourself and those who have supported you in darker, more trying days than you did the day before.  And then, a few weeks from now when we are all home with our families and friends, we have stories, great laughs and wide smiles.  It’s truly that great.

Walking around Base Camp these days, you can see the looks in people’s eyes, and who knows- it might be in mine also.  Can I do this?  The epic push that the six of us are about to embark on tomorrow morning in the early hours is something that we need to take in stages- if you think about this in the whole, it’ll overload you. Very much like the way you succeed in weathering certain events that you find in the Marines, you do what you are told by those who have been here before, follow your training and be careful.  Willie and our Sherpas have explained it in simple terms: take it one step at a time, one stage at a time. Don’t think of it as a straight push from Base Camp to Summit.  Think of it as tomorrow, we go for Camp II.  Two days later, we move up to Camp III.  In that manner, it’s easier to digest and tackle. But the most important thing is knowing that if for some reason I falter, Francisco, Willie, Tendi, Lhakpa, or Danuru are there to help me press on.  And likewise, if any one of those other people has a problem, I’m there for them too.  Teamwork on our team is strong and has been developed to the point where we can function as a single team. We may not be the strongest, fastest, or most skilled team out here, but we are closer and more tight than just about anyone.  I’ll take that over any other combination any day.  

So hopefully (knock on wood) and everything going according to plan, in about five days the six of us will be standing on the roof of the world.  Bridey will be updating regularly as we progress, using a radio to keep in touch with us and reporting here.  Once we get down, I’ll upload pics and a personal blog on each day and what we encountered.  We all promise to be safe, careful, and watch out for each other as we move up and down the mountain, which is the least we can do for those at home who are watching and concerned. 

All for now, have a great week and please keep your fingers crossed for our team!

Willie, Doug, Francisco, Lhakpa, Tendi and Danuru
Mountain Madness Everest Team ’08