Sean Leaves for the Summit - Sent July 24
Everest Adventure Journal Continued. . .
First:
If you would like to receive the Of Global Interest Random Acts of Kindness
Fund Spring 2002 Report, please send me your snail mail address. The letter
I sent to people who donated includes photos and explains how the $1000 was
spent during my last trip. The Fund is at $20 so far for the next adventure,
leaving September 2002. This year I am working on obtaining nonprofit status
for the RAK Fund.
My next trip exploring the Himalayas in Nepal will be 20 days of adventure
and includes trekking to 18,000 feet, Gokyo Ri, in the Everest region.
Equally awe inspiring, the Gokyo trek is less traveled than the Everest Base
Camp route. An appetite for adventure and a good attitude is all you need.
Start training today! We will leave September 26 and return October 15,
2002. The itinerary is ready, and I am always available to discuss details.
Everest Adventure Journal Part 2: (2 of 6) SEAN LEAVES FOR THE SUMMIT
May 11, 2002
Most other mountains in the world can be climbed in 2 or 3 days. Some might
take a week, but Everest is unusual in that it requires up to 60 and 70 days.
Weeks and weeks, amounting to almost two months, are totally devoted to
acclimatization. 29,028 feet takes time.
I asked the Sherpas how it was determined which team went to the summit
first. Gombu said a big group had to lead the way. With several Sherpas
fixing the ropes, only the large teams have the resources to establish a
route.
Sean seemed a little nervous the night before but hid it well. The time had
come. This was what he wanted to do. This was what he would do. Sean was
in and out of the dinning tent looking for batteries, for his over mitts, for
the essentials. The next morning he would leave for the summit at 5:30 AM.
At 5 AM it was just getting light outside. My video camera was ready for the
big sendoff. Sean was up having breakfast pancakes in the Kitchen hut with
the Sherpas. Robin suggested we follow him to the icefall, a great idea.
Soon Sean and Kami, his second climbing guide, were trekking over the rocky
terrain toward the ice and snow at the base of Everest. They looked good
wearing their harnesses, climbing boots and climbing gear. They looked
strong. I followed with the video camera rolling.
On the way out of town (base camp) Kami and Sean stopped at the altar area
where the Buddhist ceremony for our team had been. This was the religious
center of our camp. First Kami lit a handful of juniper and placed it in the
smoldering fire, a gesture that would please the gods. In their own
religious beliefs, Kami and Sean paused quietly contemplating. Sean stood
longer with his head down, eyes closed, mind focused. When ready, he
followed Kami toward the icefall. Gombu would leave the next day and meet the
m at camp 2.
Robin, Seth and I set out over the glacier, following Kami and Sean. The
entire area was speckled with red, green, blue, yellow, and orange tents.
Other climbers had passed on this route before us that morning, but in
general things were quiet. We walked up and down, around tents and around
and over tons of rubble and ice and around and across a few icy ponds and
streams. About half an hour passed before the rocks ended and total ice and
snow began. Here Sean and Kami would begin their climb. Robin, Seth and I
would have to turn around. If we continued and were caught climbing in the
icefall without a permit, the fine was $10,000 each. There WERE government
officers in the area.
We gave Kami and Sean big hugs and wished them lots of luck, sending them on
their way up and up, over the ice walls ahead. At the top of the first huge
frozen mound Sean stopped to wave, then turned and they were out of sight.
A minute later, Martine came sloshing through the ice. She was alone and
said her Sherpa would surely catch up to her. “I hate this icefall," she
said. “It's so dangerous." She threw her crampons onto the snow. “I
better put these on now," she said. We gave her a big hug and sent her on
her way. When she was out of sight, we headed back to our tents.
At base camp I pulled a chair out of the dinning tent and planted it solidly
in the rocky ice path facing the icefall. Here I sat for the next three
hours with Seth's fancy binoculars in hand. I watched Sean and several other
climbers climb their way up and over and around and up and up through the
icefall. Sean was easy to spot. His climbing boots, Italian One Steps, were
neon yellow to his knees. I watched him and Kami the entire way, sitting
with my elbows stabilized on the metal armrests of the fold-up chair,
focusing my eyes through the binoculars. I watched and watched. Sean and
Kami passed several climbers. They were supermen, moving quickly among large
house-size ice cubes.
The icefall is made of layers upon layers of snow turned ice, collected from
the top of Everest and surrounding peaks. This blanket dumps into the Khumbu
glacier which then falls down a cliff. The thick frozen sheets crack and
break into thousands of giant chunks -- like magnified slush. Besides
getting oneself to base camp, this is the first obstacle on the trail to the
summit of Mt. Everest and the most dangerous. Statistically, more people
have died here than anywhere else on the mountain. The glacier is moving
slowly, about four feet a day.
During the climbing season the Nepalese government hires a crew of “Icefall
Doctors," four Sherpa men who maintain the route. Much of their job is to
monitor the ladders which are set as bridges across the deepest, widest
crevasses. Primitively roped together end to end, the longest crossing this
year was three ladders(!) long.
I tried to hold the binoculars steady. I could see a ladder over a crevasse.
I watched several climbers cross it. They positioned themselves, then
stepped with determination smoothly to the other side. One man clutched the
sides of the ladder with his hands and another actually crawled across on his
hands and knees. I'm sure they didn't think anyone was watching. I was a
little more than a mile away.
The Sherpas say that falling into a crevasse is a free ticket to America.
They don't need a plane ticket nor a tourist visa. Hundreds of feet deep,
these sections of ice and snow are as tall as skyscrapers, cracked and split
all the way down to the ancient sea floor. The icefall is about 4 football
fields across where it meets base camp and at the top maybe 3 wide. My guess
is it's 4-5 football fields tall. Sean's climb that day from base camp to
camp 2 was about 12 vertical football fields up and up.
Sean was strong and steady and FAST. I lost him and Kami at times as they
passed behind blocks of ice. But soon the distinctive yellow neon boots
reappeared, and I knew it was them. They moved as black shadows against the
white and blue snow, together making their way up and up the frozen
sculpture. I watched all the climbers. Some rested, then continued, then
rested again.
Two and a half hours later Kami and Sean were at the top. The average speed
through the icefall is about five hours. They were up and over and out of
sight.
About ten minutes later, my heart sank. A giant avalanche sounded from the
upper right corner of the icefall -- exactly where Sean and Kami had vanished
from view. A puff of snow then clouded in the area. I couldn't see where
the climbers were. It was thunderously loud and too close for comfort. Most
avalanches were in other areas, never at the top of the icefall. Helpless,
we could only wait, hoping someone would call on the radio soon.
The sun was out and now lit up the icefall. The climbers aim to be at the
top before the sun has a chance to melt things. Sean and Kami were fast.
Maybe fifteen climbers were still behind them. 20 to 30 in total had gone up
that morning. It was now 8:30 AM, almost 9. About an hour or two later the
radio started to sputter with static. Seth discovered he could hear best
when he stood on the big rock near Gombu's tent, holding the radio high in
the air. The rock was about 4 feet off the ground, and Seth is almost 7 feet
tall.
It was good to hear Sean's voice. He said the avalanche had occurred further
up the valley, a safe distance from the climbing route. Measurements among
Himalayan Mountains are deceiving and hard to judge. Such grandiose
dimensions, create a new perspective on being human. Sean and Kami had made
it safely to camp 2. "I'm feeling pretty good," Sean said over the radio.
Sincerely,
Heather O'Neal
Of Global Interest LLC Adventure Travel
Ann Arbor, Michigan
(734) 369-3107
www.ofglobalinterest.com
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