I awoke at midnight on the 18th – something felt “funny”. I was groggy and not conscious enough to care to find out what awoke me so I went back to a more fit full sleep. I was soon awakened again and now clear enough to know that it was the prayer flags over my tent. I have heard these flags for weeks now and had grown accustom to their flutter. During the frigid nights they actually freeze to the top of my tent so hearing them in the middle of the night was what finally really woke me. But the flags weren’t flying in their usual direction but 180 degrees due north and this wasn’t a light flutter but a battering northerly wind that rocked the tent walls and caused the tent floor to billow. We were due to awaken at 3 am. and begin our climb through the ice fall at 4. Due to the incredible hazard and ever changing conditions it is best to be out of the ice before the full on sun hits it. But with the new wind direction I knew things would be different. I could hear plenty of falling rock and cracking ice. We had been warned that monsoon season was beginning around June 1 but expected earlier this season. There had been no snow the past season and we had been clobbered by a three day storm while down in Pengbouche – now with the new wind direction signaled the changes due to come.
We accessed the winds at 4 and although strong many teams were now heading up so we opted to proceed with our summit attempt. In the early morning light Brooke, Dawa Tenzing and I began to climb. I felt great at camp, strong and comfortable in my gear, properly dressed for the conditions and ready. But then as we headed higher I noticed something “funny”. My right arm felt like a dead weight and all too soon my left leg refused to cooperate, it too felt weighted and heavy. Still I figured I just needed to warm up – get my breathing at 18,000 feet in sync and after my usual half hour warm-up I would settle down. Plus this was the beginning of our summit push rotation so just like the gun going off at the marathon, nerves certainly come into play. But I didn’t settle down and now my legs felt heavy to lift and disjointed at the hips. The ice falls are incredibly dangerous-speed and precise footing a must and here I am feeling clumsy and weak. I kept trying to figure this out and finally put my pole away and concentrated on my balance. My fists were tightly clenched as I kept trying to force myself mentally to something, someplace else – anything but this feeling of loss of bodily control. But I was slowing down – so slow and leaden it wasn’t my decision much longer. Brooke asked if I was okay. I asked that we climb a little higher. A section of the ice above us broke off and with a rush of noise and wind, ice and snow showered down onto us. When I turned Brooke was covering her head and I was grasping Dawa’a hand. We regained our footing and continued higher. Guess that ice fall was the answer I needed – I was moving too slowly through this treacherous area and in my stubbornness I was putting two other lives at risk. The Sherpa are very wary of entering the ice falls preferring to limit their exposure-as we have been warned it is “Russian Roulette”. Many will arrive at base camp and decide the odds are too high and not even attempt the mountain. I knew all this but since climbing this was my fifth venture through. I also now knew that not ten days earlier a Sherpa had been killed and is still missing somewhere in the vast expanse of ice. This was now all playing in my head and my eventual decision to turn back. I also knew we had only 4 perhaps 5 days to summit before the predicted bad weather arrived – a very small ‘window’ of opportunity and I was now not strong enough to be in a postion high enough on the mountain to make a summit bid. There is mush strategizing that comes into play on Everest – if a day late or a camp too low will greatly effect the outcome…..
Today as I complete this blog it is now May 24. Word from the mountain is that the number of summits this year were far less and that the impending weather did indeed arrive. The winds are high and conditions are deteriorating. Most of the climbers are now safely down and the mountain will officially ‘close’ within the next few days. My utmost awe and congratulations to those who did summit – I now know what it takes and how incredibly difficult it is to stick with it for months in such harsh conditions. You are indeed rock stars!!! This is a mounatain like no other and reaching the top will forever change your lives.
I still second guess my decsion to turn back from my summit attempt yet I have promised so many that I would turn when I felt the risk was too high. Still I don’t come away with defeat but even richer as my foundation to educate the children of Sherpa killed in climbing falls and to send potential climbing Sherpa to the Khumbu climbing school has now taken hold. I have much work ahead as I link the children of the Donald Mckay School with the Khumbu Valley through education and the understanding of challenge – challenges we all face everyday.
For those of us living with MS, as I have said for eleven years, the summit is not important, we all have our mountain – it is what we choose to do with it that is our challenge! So rememeber…”Come climb with me!”
Thank you to Teva for this incredible opportunity to continue to encourage all of us with MS to climb their own mountain – and to Everest I think I will see you again in the future.
With love and appreciation to the thousands who have visited my web sight and cheered me on…
Climb On!
When my sister told me about your What’s your Mountain? page, I wanted to be one of the first to share a story.
