A Night on Everest
Eight lives would be lost in just two
night of climbing. It would be the most
deaths since the earthquake in 2015,
and the most deaths in several years
from the summit attempt alone. At the
time I looked and then kept on climbing.
I thought about these individuals and
what might have gone wrong. I said a
prayer to myself, but what else could
I have done?
We reached the South Summit in the
dark. Was I going to reach the true
Everest Summit in the dark and miss
all the views? At the South Summit we
could see the summit traverse to the
top of the world, a scary ribbon of snow
and ice that leads to the Hillary Step.
I was told that if you fell to your right
you would land 12,000 feet below in
Tibet. If you fell to your left you would
fall 12,000 feet below to Nepal.
The advice I was given was,
“Don’t fall!”
The path descends steeply for about
100 ft. At the ledge before you begin
the traverse we stopped. Dawa Tensing,
the Sherpa behind me, pulled out the
partial oxygen tank from my backpack
and replaced it with a fresh oxygen tank
that he had been carrying since Camp
4. He cached the half-full tank on the
ledge by tying it into an ice screw he
twisted into the ice. While he was
making the switch, I finished my bottle
of lumpy water and drink mix. I ate
another Cliff Shot. This time I got more
into my mouth, but it was still a sticky
mess. I estimate that I had been climbing
for eight hours in the “Death Zone.” I had
drunk one liter of water and consumed
about 350 calories. Not really enough.
I put the empty package into my right
outside pocket with the other sticky one.
24
Daylight was just beginning to our right.
The dark sky was getting hints of purple
and the traverse was coming into better
focus. Ahead was the Hillary Step and
the Everest Summit. I didn’t want to get
too excited, but I might actually get to
the summit. I walked along the narrow
traverse and for the very first time I was
scared. There was really nothing to hold
onto and it was icy. I moved along with
Pega in front and Dawa behind me.
The traverse went up and down and
right and left just enough to make it
more difficult. At one spot another
body was tangled in lines just below on
the Nepal side. This climber was dangling
between two ropes like a pair of shoes
hanging off powerlines. Did he slip?
Why didn’t he get back on the line?
Was someone there to help? Did others
ignore him? Did I ignore him? He was
perfectly still. How horrible would it be
to see others walk past you and nobody
offer to help? Could I have done more?
Could he still have been alive when we
passed him? He was dangling below us
and there was no safe way I knew to get
him up. Was I just telling myself that
nothing could be done?
I was now staring directly at the Hillary
Step as it was getting lighter. The Step
changed in 2017 when a large portion
of rock cleaved off the left face. The
path was no longer along the rock wall,
but straight up the ridge line and more
exposed. I was almost there. Each crest
could be the summit or just another
bump along the way. Each crest would
be a disappointment to me as each
would not be the actual summit. Pega
turned around and told me 10 to 15
minutes more. My heart started to
pound. I became teary-eyed again.
Another false summit and another.
Then the instant we crested the next
rise I could see prayer flags and a few
people gathering.
JA NUA RY/F E B R UA RY 2020 | P EN N S YLVA N IA D EN TA L J O U R N A L
There it was at 29,029 ft….the summit
of Everest! Pega turned to me and said,
“You did it!” and “Good job, Bruce.” Dawa
gave me a giant smile. I just wanted to
get there and sit down.
We approached the prayer flags and the
small crowd of about 15 people. The high
point of the summit was behind the
flags. It was just a foot or two higher,
but too many people were there for us
to squeeze in. I looked over the side to
the North and I could see climbers from
the Tibetan side making their way to
the same summit. I could climb back
down the Tibetan side, but I would be
arrested and I wouldn’t have any of my
gear or my passport. I would end up in
a Chinese jail for a long time.
I sat down along the edge of the
summit with Tibet behind me. Pega
said, “Let’s get some pictures.” I opened
my right outside pocket to get my
camera and realized that I had put two
used gel packets in with my camera.
I now had sticky gel on my camera.
I laughed to myself because this was
exactly what I had done on Cho Oyu,
and I had planned all my pockets
carefully so it wouldn’t happen here.
Lack of oxygen makes you stupid
for sure.
I used my down suit to wipe off my
camera. The lens was clean and that
was all I cared about. Pega stood a few
feet away as I removed three banners
from my pack. It was not very windy,
but just enough to prevent me from
holding the banners out without each
folding over itself. The first banner was
going to be a surprise for my family.
I had it made in secret, and it read,
“Everest 2019 Susan, Caroline and
Henry, you are in my heart and my
strength, Thank you for helping me
reach the summit.”