A Night on Everest
At the top of the Hillary Step we waited
to let several climbers pass. It was a safe
place to wait. When our turn came, we
dropped down along the traverse and
moved until we met with the next group
coming up. They congratulated me and
the others descending and we encouraged
them as they approached the summit.
The feeling was friendly and we were all
helping each other. It was not as bad as
the news would portray the next day,
nor was it as crowded. Sadly, that was
where I saw the last body on the climb
up. It was now light and it was easier
to see. The dead climber was twisted in
some ropes about five feet below us on
our right. I still didn’t know when this
person died. I couldn’t see a face and
I couldn’t tell anything by the clothing.
I was ascending the last of the summit
traverse back to the top of the South
Summit. We had descended the traverse,
now we needed to ascend to the top of
the South East Ridge. It was exponentially
harder to climb up again and through
a tricky section that had only one fixed
rope. A ladder would have been better,
but who was going to bring that up?
It took me a few minutes to figure out
how to climb and where to step. Pega
was ahead and had already climbed
over, and now it was my turn. I wished
he would pop his head back and reach
out to grab my hand or pull me up.
Instead, I had to do it on my own. I did
manage, and honestly, I was impressed
with myself. Yes, I had just summited
Mt. Everest, but I had so much help
along the way. This was a test, not
intentionally, but a test. I’m a
mountaineer. I can do this!
When I finally caught up to Pega
I asked, “What gives? Where were you,”
and his answer, “I had to pee.”
We continued down the South East
Ridge. The sky was partly cloudy.
My goggles were completely iced over,
so I removed them and was climbing
with no eyewear. I was very worried
26
about snow blindness, but I hoped for
the best. As we descended the ridge, I
got a much better look at the steep and
exposed edge we had climbed several
hours earlier.
Climbing down is not easier.
You are tired and it’s hard on your legs
and feet with your toes crushing at the
front of your boots. We passed the body
that was fallen at an anchor for the fixed
lines. I thought about what had
happened. Was it exhaustion, or altitude
issues (cerebral edema or pulmonary
edema)? Where was his Sherpa and his
team? Was he from this season or past
seasons?
We continued down and came to a
tricky section with rock. We were stuck
for maybe 20 minutes while several
teams were coming up. I saw Brad from
my last trip on Cho Oyu. He climbed last
fall with me to prepare for Everest. He
developed bronchitis and never went to
the summit of Cho Oyu. He was signed
up with another expedition company
for this expedition. Now he was near
the summit traverse. He noticed me as
he passed. How he knew it was me in
my down suit and completely covered
amazed me. We hugged and
congratulated each other. He would be
on the summit soon.
Eventually we arrived back at the
Balcony. We stopped and switched
oxygen tanks again. I realized that I had
made the correct decision to have extra
oxygen. With the reported crowds and
delays from the day before, I didn’t want
to worry that I would run out of O’s.
With the feeling of accomplishment to
be back at the Balcony safe I ate and
drank. I had eaten all my gel shots and
now I choked down a Cliff Bar and
some more chunky water.
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
We rested for a while. The Sherpas were
talking and joking. We all knew we had
accomplished what we set out to do.
After two months we were coming
down for the last time. Climbers would
be going home as well as the Sherpa.
Many of the Sherpa live down valley
from Everest Base Camp. Once their
responsibilities were over they would
hike one to three days to their home
village. Some would help in their
villages and homes until the fall
climbing season or next spring. Some,
like our head Sherpa Funuru, would
leave for Africa where he guides trips on
Kilimanjaro for the summer.
The mood was calm and peaceful. For
the first time in weeks I had no anxiety,
no illness. I wasn’t tired, I was just
thinking about going home. I was on
the Balcony, the flat area between the
South East Ridge and the Triangular
Face when it occurred to me that it was
May 23. It was the anniversary of my
father’s passing. While I was getting
ready to continue down the Triangular
Face back to Camp 4, I was thinking
about my father. Would he have
approved of my decision to climb
Everest? He was aware of my climbing
before his passing, but I had climbed so
much more since. I think he would have
reluctantly let me climb. He would have
worried like any parent of a child, and
he would have told me that I had too
much to lose and asked me why did I
have to do it. I spoke to him that
morning. I told him climbing Everest
was dangerous, but I had taken all the
proper precautions to make it as safe as
possible. I told him that I hope he knew
how much I missed him and how I tell
everyone how great a role model and
wonderful father he was. He was a
decent man who took care of so many
family and friends in his lifetime. I found
that thinking about him after 30 hours
of climbing made the journey that
much more memorable.