11. Everest!

It's about a month and a half since I returned from Nepal and I'm conscious that, once again, I am way overdue a blog post, especially as this is probably the post that the handful of people who read my blog have probably been waiting for.

So, first things first, I am very pleased to say that on May 15th for a brief moment in time, I was the tallest person on Earth, with nothing but the world at my feet. After what had been a very enjoyable but also challenging 6 or so weeks in Nepal, I had finally achieved my childhood dream and summited Everest.

But how did I get there you ask? Well , the short answer is it took a lot of hard work, a generous pinch of good luck and some incredible support from our Sherpas. The longer answer, well that is quite the story...

Lukla

Having met the Expedition team and had a welcome dinner in Kathmandu, it was not long before we were setting off for the Khumbu valley, with the first stage being a flight to the World's most dangerous airport, Lukla. Following a long stint being stuck in a bus next to the runway, we were finally allowed to board our small and somewhat ageing Tara Air Sea Otter plane, a twin prop that had seen better days, with nothing more than some see-through plastic separating the passengers from our two pilots. After another long delay, we eventually headed to the end of the runway, and with a controlled slide of the throttle we bounced along the tarmac until we finally launched into the air, the two propellers spinning so fast you wondered if they were going to fly off their wings. The flight itself was relatively uneventful until the landing. For those of you who aren't familiar with Lukla, it's an incredibly short landing strip carved into the side of a mountain with steep mountain faces all around and no run-off. Put simply, get the landing wrong and there's no way out. You could tell everyone in the cabin was that little bit more nervous as we made our approach and when we finally touched down, there was an initial sense of relief, followed by slight panic as the end of the runway rapidly came closer, only for our pilots to effectively do a handbrake turn into what must be the world's smallest taxi area for planes, no bigger than a residential cul-de-sac. Needless to say we were all relieved to be getting off the plane!

Trek to Everest Base Camp

There is a reason why so many people have hiking in Nepal on their bucket lists and that's because it's both beautiful and the people are wonderful. Whilst the facilities are often fairly basic, the scenery (and gradual change in topography and fauna) is truly spectacular and I would thoroughly recommend a visit. Rather than wax lyrical about it, I'll let my photos do the talking and we'll gloss over the traveller's stomach issues that I had which led to my first of three antibiotic courses for the trip. Stops wise, our journey was:

• Lukla to Phat Ding

• Phat Ding to Namche Bazaaar

• Namche Bazaar "rest day" with 3 hour acclimatisation trek to the Everest View Hotel (where there was a white out)

• Namche to Deboche where we visited a monastery and received prayer cord that stayed around my neck for the rest of the trip

• Deboche to Dingboche

• Dingboche to Lobuche

• Lobuche to Gorak Shep

• Gorak Shep to Everest Base Camp (EBC) via Kala Patthar (which has very pretty views of Everest)

EBC

When we made it to Base Camp (approx. 5,350m), Elite Exped had excelled themselves. We each had our own tents that we could stand up in (including sponge mattress and overhead light), there was a geodome "cafe" and an additional mess tent where we received 3 cooked meals a day, which collectively made base camp a very comfortable experience in the circumstances. Satellite based WiFi was available via a third party, although far from cheap at $200 for 10GB of data - needless to say all back-up and auto downloads and updates were soon turned off. Don't get me wrong, it was still incredibly cold at night, we were surrounded by mountains that were constantly avalanching, the ground beneath us and our tents would move and crumble over time (such that I had to rebuild a retaining rock wall that my tent was sat on half way through the trip) and our toilets were glorified buckets, but as far as mountaineering goes, this was very nice!

Rotation

After a few more days of acclimatising and honing our skills in the lower parts of the Khumbu Icefall, it was time to set off for what was going to be our only acclimatisation rotation up the mountain. Rotations, as I have touched on previously, are where you climb and sleep higher up the mountain to help your body acclimatise to extreme altitude, before you go for your summit push. Different companies have different approaches to this, with some doing up to 3 or 4 rotations up the mountain, sleeping as high as camp 3 which is at 7,100m.

The problem with the rotations is that each time you do one, you have to navigate the Khumbu Icefall, which is the gateway to the upper camps from EBC and unquestionably one of the most dangerous sections of the entire climb. The Icefall is a labyrinth of towering ice blocks and deep crevasses which are spanned by ladders tied together. There are vertical climbs, traverses, crevasse jumps which are very exposed and an overall ascent of around 800m stretched out over the course of a few miles. As the sun hits the Icefall, it becomes increasingly unstable, which can cause any part of the ground beneath you, the ice blocks above you or the slopes around the Icefall to collapse or avalanche, leaving you with very little chance of survival. Needless to say, it is not somewhere you want to spend any more time in than you absolutely have to. There were at least 3 occasions where the Icefall collapsed far too close to me for comfort (one time it had me and a few others running for cover) and I feel like I definitely cashed in a few of my 9 lives within it.

As part of our rotation, we spent a single night in Camp 1 (which is around 6,100m), after which we did not use this camp again. The following day it was a scorching hike up to Camp 2 through the Western Cwm (the main valley of Everest), which thankfully only had a few crevasses and ladders to navigate and a gentle 300m or so of ascent to get over. Camp 2 was essentially our advanced base camp, with a cosy mess tent and reasonable tents for us to share, set on a rocky platform with Lhotse, Nuptse and Everest looking down on us. It's probably at this point where you realise just how big this mountain is when you see how far up you still have to go (as well as how far away the summit is - it's a half marathon between EBC and the summit which I don't think many people realise!)

Our next stop would be to tag Camp 3, spend an hour or so acclimatising before returning back down to Camp 2 and eventually EBC. The only thing that stood in our way was the lower parts of the Lhotse face, a steep ice wall, which at the time of the rotation had very few steps chipped into it from the limited traffic that had gone before us, making for a very challenging ascent. This wasn't helped by the brittle ice which would shatter as you tried to kick your front crampon points in, leaving you scrambling around like a cat clawing at glass. After a considerable effort, we made it to Camp 3 before descending in the starts of a blizzard which made for some interesting rappelling, eventually cowering in the comfort of our tents in Camp 2, before returning back to EBC the next day.

After our rotation it was primarily a waiting game, hoping for a weather window to come where the Jet Stream that usually blasts the summit of Everest with 200mph winds would abate for long enough for us to climb safely to the top of the world.

Summit Push

On around the 9th of May we set off for the Summit. The plan was to set off from EBC to Camp 2, spend 2 nights there before pushing onto Camp 3 where we would begin to take oxygen. Once again this section was very challenging, mainly due to the searing heat that we encountered making our way to Camp 2. I do not exaggerate when I say I wasn't far off dying of dehydration (despite taking on plenty of fluids) such was the heat. Within the space of around 10 minutes we went through a temperature shift of around -10C in the shade of the icefall to +25-30C once we emerged into the sunlight within the Western Cwm, causing a 90 minute section between Camp 1 and 2 to take me almost 4 hours (and I was one of the quicker ones)!

We'd spend a night at Camp 3 (which is an incredibly precarious camp, carved into the side of the Lhotse Face), before making the surprisingly long trip up to Camp 4, crossing the Yellow Band and Geneva Spur before finally descending slightly into the bowl between Lhotse and Everest, with our main objective towering over us. We'd spend a few nervous hours resting at Camp 4 with the wind battering our tent, before emerging out into the night at around 9pm, wondering what the next 12-15 hours might have in store for us and whether they might even be our last.

Under the glow of our headtorches, I set off with Dorjee Sherpa up the steep triangular face towards the Balcony, Pem following not far behind with Rakesh, who were both supporting my tent mate Mario, an incredible grandfather of 66 from Ecuador who was taking his second crack at Everest. After about an hour we were stuck in a queue of slower moving climbers and whilst we managed to get around some, there was just no way to safely get past without taking a risk of unclipping from the fixed lines over somewhat precarious ground. We patiently moved up the slope at around half the pace that we had wanted to, continuing that way for around 90 minutes. Eventually the crowds seemed to dissipate with a number of climbers taking advantage of little ledges to rest at, whilst Dorjee and I pushed on towards the Balcony, our first true rest point about half-way up the summit climb. This was famously the last camp site for the 1953 expedition where Hillary and Norgay slept before taming the South route for the first time.

After a change of oxygen and a quick sip of my fairly frozen water bottles, we continued up the ridge. The stars in such dark surrounds were incredible, as was the moon which seemed like it was lower than us, such was our height and the effects of the curvature of the Earth. A few unexpected rock climbs punctuated the route towards the South Summit, the second highest peak in the World but not a mountain in its own right, before an incredible sunrise cast the famous pyramid shadow of Everest over a light blanket of clouds below.

When we eventually made it to the South Summit I caught my first glimpse of the famous Hillary Step, together with the interesting rocky traverse that awaited me to get there, with old ropes and new tangled up with one another. At the foot of the step, there is, sadly a fallen climber from a couple of years ago, a sobering reminder of the precarious nature of high altitude mountaineering and the need to make it back safely. Having eventually topped out from the Hillary Step it is around a 10-15 minute hike to the summit, past the recently installed Nat Geo weather station and sadly another body. It is only after all this time that you eventually see the peak for real, your goal of all these years finally before you. You try to soak it all in, the tiny peaks all around you which would tower above anything in Europe, the deep blue of the sky, the curvature of the Earth on the horizon, the prayer flags and tokens from climbers past and the voice at the back of your head telling you that as amazing as this is, the job is only half done and you need to get back down safely.

After another change of oxygen and a mere 20 or so minutes, we set off on our descent, getting caught in traffic on the Hillary Step for a good 45 minutes. By this point the sun was beating down on us again, sapping what little energy we had left as we roasted in our down suits. We tread carefully, trying not to slip on rocks, trip up on old ropes or forget to clip into the fixed lines which are our only means of safety. Eventually, after 15 hours, I finally made it back to Camp 4, a broken man. I know, however, that the job is still not done, we're still teetering on the edge of the Death Zone and far from safe. After some consideration for my condition I decide that my original plan to attempt to summit Lhotse the next morning is too ambitious, particularly taking into account that my boot zip has failed, exposing my inner boot and leaving me at risk of frostbite should the weather turn. I therefore tell Pem that after a short rest we should try to push on down to Camp 2, which turned out to be exhausting but the right call from a mountaineering perspective (albeit quite terrifying at the same time, being the only person descending the Lhotse Face in pitch black at 9pm!)

The next day we went back down through the Western Cwm, through the Icefall and made it to the relative safety of Base Camp. It was only then that I could finally relax and start to appreciate what I had done. After 7 years of training, 2 cancellations and a diagnosis of Ulcerative Colitis, I had made it to the top of Everest and back down again safely and hope that in doing so, I can inspire anyone who has a chronic condition, particularly someone who is recently diagnosed and may feel like their world is collapsing in on them, that you should still hold onto your dreams and that anything is possible with the right attitude and support network.

As for what next, who knows, I certainly won't be hanging up my mountaineering boots, but I think a well-earned rest is in order first.

I hope you've enjoyed reading about my journey and for now I won't say goodbye, but simply, see you soon.

DB