Everest Base Camp Gossip And An Emergency Evacuation.
From the glorious Ama Dablan dominating Dingboche's (4410 metres) skyline to the small village of Lobuche (4940 metres), you are surrounded by the majestic mountains you associate with the Nepalese skyline. In these two places, I encountered summiteers waiting for the "window" of good weather that is required for an Everest summit event. 35 climbers have scaled Everest on the 14th-16th of May (19 expedition members, the rest Sherpa climbers) and 20 more on their way. The latest news I'd read was 22nd-25th of May this year, might be the best days for the rest of the teams, the jet stream is not expected to blow on the summit those days.
Normally, there might be an opening of two weeks that might send summiteers scurrying for the higher camps. There were reputed to be more than 365 plus potential candidates plus supporting sherpas for a total of 800, eagerly awaiting this challenge this year. This is the highest ever recorded climbing permit issuance. Discounted prices, also this year, has attracted a number of pundits, since the Nepalese supposedly are trying to encourage more business. Base camp was teeming with the various groups and support staff required to ensure these candidates had the best summit attempt possible. There was also gossip about new organizations who had began catering to affluent, but not necessarily competent, Indian and Chinese clients.
These expedition groups are stand alone groups, do not necessarily mingle, and many have been waiting in base camp since March. The clients have been doing acclimatisation climbs up and down the infamous icefall to camp 3. For the summit push, it takes about four days from base camp to get to camp 4, followed by an evening push to the summit. 2 dead bodies have just been found at camp 4, probably from last year, and two potential summiteers have already died this year.
I met a couple in Dingboche, who were going for their second Everest summit attempt. They had already succeeded a few years ago. The man is is a veteran of 7, 8000+ metre summits without supplemental oxygen, and she is also an accomplished mountain leader and 8000 plus metre summiteer. I also met another mountaineer, who has led several expeditions to the highest peaks in South America, hoping for his first summit attempt on Everest. They were recovering from pneumonia, gastroenteritis (the Nepalese bugs are now Cipro resistant) and hoping to catch the last summit push this month.
All voiced concerns about the quality of the candidate pool and how that might affect their safety. A lack of technical expertise can result in bottlenecks and long waits (difficult with limited oxygen canisters and harder for those without supplemental oxygen). There was fear of falling debris down the ropes, as ice might be unnecessarily dislodged above you, hitting and killing you. Also, prolonged waits on the rope queue may result in frostbitten digits! No one wants to lose fingers and toes unnecessarily. Numerous potential disasters can happen to the inexperienced summiteers themselves, which may result in everyone else abandoning their own summit attempt to help in a rescue attempt.
Much has been written about money being thrown at a project and this might be a prime example of how this might lead to a disregard for human life. It is a fact that material returns may outweigh avoidable tragedies. A couple of women climbers were witnessed to be intimidated and crying in the icefall which shouldn't be happening to the seasoned mountaineer. Some climbers have been disregarding acclimatization requirements and returned to sea level for some r& r, a move which could easily lead to their suffering acute mountain sickness and death. Finally, there has been over reliance on Sherpa support teams. The cost of climbing a Everest has been said to be within the range of ($30-80 k each plus plus since it takes months, training, and equipment above that) and some clients expect to be hauled to the summit for that price.
Then there are those I met, who were disappointed by their failed summit attempts. There was an Italian chef, who lives in my neighborhood in London, who was descending from his fifth summit attempt. He said when he again reached camp 3 at 7600 metres, he knew that he would have been too tired to get to the summit and make his way back. He knew an attempt would cost him his life and decided that he would try again for his sixth time next year. A Venezuelan girl also made it to camp 3 but had serious heart palpitations and a group of men turned back from camp 4 due to equipment failure. From my conversations with this group, I had great admiration for their ability to decide to turn back, so near their goal, knowing that a step further might have cost them their lives. Their frustration and disappointment was palpable, regardless.
These conversations are part and parcel of the trekkers experience. I live these fascinating tales vicariously, as a lowly trekker, but love being close enough to the events as they unfold. Many of these potential summiteers have probably been scaling other lower peaks, as I write this, for physical and mental preparation, and are now ready for their summit push.
With the backdrop of all these exciting tales, I left Dingboche after an extra day and an acclimatisation climb, and head up to a Lobuche. Lobuche is just under 5000 metres and at this point many trekkers go back down because of acute mountain sickness (vomiting, headache, lack of sleep). I felt fine at this point, and just relaxed in the lodge conversing with Everest base camp dwellers taking a break. I observed someone eating a tinned tuna spring roll with fascination, not imagining it could be remotely satisfying. I guess after months of dal bhat, any "culinary" change is welcome, and the protein requirement satisfied by another the dish on offer.
Near Lobuche, I passed Scott Fischer's mane, a memorial to the famous climber who perished in the 1996 Everest disaster. This tragedy is well documented in Jon Krakauer's "Into Thin Air", as well as the latest Everest movie. After reading all about this mountaineer, I felt completely awestruck to be standing in front of this memorial. What a sad and tragic ending, RIP Scott Fischer.
After this brief overnight stop, and under the awe inspiring presence of Nuptse, my team and I left Lobuche to go to Gorakshep (5164 metres). Gorakshep is a very small gathering of teahouses, and has a reputation of being the most undesirable place, being filthy, dirty, with only a handful of vomit inducing toilets available. An Australian man described the toilet in my teahouse as "a crime against humanity". The reputation is well deserved. Armed with Imodium as a prevention tool (I heard kids do this trick in multiday rock events) and a shee wee (a funnel with an angled spout) , a pee bottle and general fear of filth, I braved the two nights I stayed there. I squirted hand sanitizer everywhere,but knew, the effort was futile. We even had to spit our toothpaste gargle out the window, since there were no basins!
The summiteer I was chatting to at Lobuche was right, sleeping above 5000 metres is a different kettle of fish. You get bad headaches and can barely sleep. The air is so thin, it feels like you are breathing through a straw, as you go up and down the stairs of your teahouse. As I was having a wander, many times I stopped to catch my breath, drink water, or just have a sit down for five minutes, waiting for my heartbeat to come down to a more normal rate. Fun, no, and difficult, yes, but the excitement of being so close to your goal gives you a certain degree of adrenaline. Besides, mental strength is the ruling factor in any difficult trek.
As early morning arrived and I headed off to Everest base camp, I was overcome with excitement. I had already seen the camp from a distance below us, as we scaled rocky paths and ridges. The yellow tents were sprawled alongside, for quite a distance , and it must take a while to get from the furthest point to the start of the Khumbu icefall, for the strong able mountaineer ( a kilometer was what I was told) Myself, in my gasping, ill state, it was a monumental task.
Seeing the various expedition groups huddled together near the icefall, I felt I was in the middle of a documentary. The sherpas were running around doing daily chores and the potential summiteers were just relaxing to music or practicing ice axe techniques in the lower parts of the icefall. I wondered how the mountaineers could live comfortably for close to three months, in subzero conditions, in their yellow tents. Blue morning skies with t-shirt weather, snowy afternoons and freezing evening temperatures were all part of daily life, as were showerless days, Khunbu coughs, and general boredom. One point to note, contrary to widespread belief, there is no rubbish along the Everest way. It's been totally cleaned up.
The sherpas had done their impressive job yet again, this year, breaking new paths and ropes up to the summit. Doing this job means a higher wage for them than a teacher in the capital of Kathmandu. (I heard 8000 dollars a season plus tips). They risk their lives for this monumental task. Without them, Everest would be a much more dangerous and technical challenge, and the summit unreachable, for all but the most elite world class climbers.
Now, with the ropes and ladders in place, it was just a matter of waiting in the queue for the summit bid and hanging out in base camp. I've heard stories of some clients expecting to be dragged all the way up to the summit as part of the "package" not understanding that going down, they needed knowledge and expertise. The sherpas cannot carry clients down in such dangerous circumstances. Bodies are scattered around Everest because it is too difficult to bring down ailing climbers. You need firstly, to protect your own survival (it's very difficult to carry someone down the steep paths in altitude) and the possible weather change during the descent, complicates matters to a different degree. Without knowing how to descend timely and carefully, these inexperienced summiteers face an early demise. There was even a tale, witnessed by one of the climbers, of an Indian climber who forced his sherpas to drag him up the mountain, only for him to perish on the way down, from lack of strength and technical ability.
I sat down in the middle if the camp, just to observe, the comings and goings of people and their daily rituals. I ventured into the base of the icefall near base camp, since I could already see how unstable the melting ice and snow were. Going deep into the icefall requires a climbing permit worth tens of thousands of dollars, so it was not accessible to me and my team. Stepping onto the edge was enough for me, and I was terrified it might just collapse underneath. Apparently, the Khumbu glacier is melting at an alarming rate. You can feel the movement water under the snow in the icefall near base camp and hear avalanches occurring around you.
After breathing in the experience, I ventured back to Gorapshep (Gorapshit, a more adequate name) gasping for air and feeling more ill. I slept sitting in the tearoom (most other trekkers/climbers were there because of the stench and cold temperatures in the rooms). At this point, I knew I needed a helicopter to take me down to Lukla, where I might connect with the scary airplane ride back to Kathmandu. However, due to bad weather the helicopter couldn't come until sometime the next day.
By this time I knew I had AMS (acute mountain sickness) and HAPE (high altitude pulmonary edema). I'd read about these conditions prior to the trip, and was aware this is the biggest cause of death of high altitude climbers and trekkers. I had to wait and fingers crossed, be strong enough, to see Kala Patthar, as well.
Thank God, after another dreadful night of terrible headaches and coughing up blood, a helicopter arrived to take me to Lukla. I was thrilled I was able to accomplish the goal I had set for myself, and more grateful that I had the ability to get to a hospital quickly, to be treated.
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