IMG Gurla Mandhata 2006 Expedition

Back home safely

Not a quick journey, but after driving 3 days across Tibet, bumping across the border in Zhangmu, catching up with the world and modern life in Kathmandu, and then flying some 8500 miles across the globe, we are all finally back home to spouses, friends, and hamro kukurs (our dogs).

While a tad grueling at times, we had some great experiences on the drive. There were goat traffic jams on the "highway", spectacular sand dunes lining th e banks of the mighty Yarlung-Tsangpo (Brahmaputra) river with the Kanjiroba Himal rising behind, lunches on river banks, views of Shishapangma, the world's 14th highest peak, surprise meetings with old friends like Mark Whetu, a legendary Kiwi climber and videographer, and even a special Dasain puja for our bus in the truck stop town of Banepa...without the traditional blood sacrifice to appease the goddess Durga - our driver sacrificed a coconut instead. (Dasain is one of the biggest festivals in Nepal and, while it is best known for the pulpati day - which entails blood sacrifice for Durga - the other four main days of the festival are wonderful occasions of giving and family time for Nepali Hindus. And, while the blood sacrifice seems a bit gruesome to our oft-naive senses, a client of mine put it well back in 1997: Well, it's shocking to see, but I guess they're just doing in public [killing animals for eventual human consumption] what we choose to do behind the doors of a slaughter house. And, at least they'll use the entire animal and not waste it! Perspective is always important...)

As wonderful as the trip was - fascinating peoples, brilliant cultures, lost kingdoms, and remote mountains - it is always a joy to get back home again. And, the long journey never fails to give me pause, time to reflect on my travels and go through the exercise I always go through after a mountain sojourn: to see what I learned.

The first item is the obvious one: I really enjoyed being on a lone, solitary peak, far away from other teams and the chaos which often accompanies Himalayan climbs. Our route on Gurla was not a first ascent, but in many ways it might as well have been. We had a map and a general idea of where the route went - but that much we could have seen from Mansarovar. But, the details were up to us, and that added a wonderful element of excitement, a tad of unknown, a bit of spice to the climbing experience. And, the fact that we were all alone put the onus on us and only us for our own safety and decision making. If we got ourselves in a jam, unlike on other mountains like Cho Oyu or Everest, there was going to be no rescue, no help from other teams. Get yourself in, and you gotta get yourself out again. So, again, I learned that I want to travel to more lone, solitary peaks and have a more unique climbing adventure.

The second main thing I learned on this trip came quietly to me as we drove across the barren plains of Tibet. It I was something I've known for a long time, but perhaps never completely verbalized to myself, so it appeared as a sort of epiphany to me: I love Nepal. Many of you are probably saying: Duh! You've been there 18 times, you've studied, written, worked, and spent more time in Nepal than some Nepalis. Of course you love Nepal! Well, good point. But, sometimes we have to be away from something to realize how much we truly value it.

For me, as we bumped along north of Dolpo, I gazed through the Landcruiser windows toward Nepal and longed to be there again. And, it was less selfish than just me wanting to be in Nepal because it is comfortable...I wanted to be there again to make a difference, to effect a lasting change, to, as Ralph Waldo Emerson (purportedly) wrote: to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived... this is to have succeeded.

While we trekked through the Humla, I saw firsthand a beautiful people that, simply by uncontrollable forces geography and economy, were stuck in a life of poverty. They work harder than most, are kind beyond belief, are wizened from the lives they lead but not from school as such niceties hardly exist in Humla. Throughout Nepal in recent years, I have seen a people ravaged by a corrupt and ineffectual government coupled with a violent Maoist insurgency, 25 million people who subsist on an average of $190 per year while their king buys $35,000 chunks of Tanzanite while visiting Tanzania. I have gained so much from Nepal and the Nepali people, they have taught me much of what I know and changed my life in ways I may never be able to express. I have had the opportunity to help by teaching English in 1998, by sponsoring - along with my family and friends - a young Tamang boy in school and in work, and by giving my time and money to Porters' Progress (www.portersprogress.org). But, my epiphany was this: it is time to do more. To create lasting, sustainable change. Nepal has given that to me...it is only right that I return the favor.

Upon our arrival in Kathmandu, this lesson became even more poignant: a week earlier, a Russian MI-17 helicopter was carrying the best and brightest conservation minds in Nepal from the eastern mountain airstrip of Ghunsa back to Kathmandu. They had just turned a groundbreaking forest conservation program back over to the villagers who had inhabited the region for centuries. Four minutes after takeoff, flying VFR in cloudy weather, the helicopter smashed into a mountainside. In a flash, Nepali heroes, self-made people who were actively giving back to their countrymen, were gone. Mingma Norbu Sherpa. Dr. Harka Gurung. Dr. Chandra Gurung. Yeshi Choden Lama. It was a tragedy beyond words, and a horrible blow to this country that is desperate for good news as it works through peace talks with the Maoists, parties, and monarchy.

But, through desperation often comes hope, and perhaps as the life stories of Mingma, Harka, Chandra, Yeshi, and the others are made known, they will posthumously inspire other Nepali youngsters to seize the day, to build themselves, give back, and build their communities and their nation. That is what I must hope and believe.

While it is difficult to motivate in these times of war and suffering around the world, hard at times to see how one person's contribution can possible make a difference, I am often reminded of a couple of quotes. First, the full version of Emerson's quote from above:

To laugh often and love much; to win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children; to earn the approbation of honest citizens and endure the betrayal of false friends; to appreciate beauty; to find the best in others; to give of one's self; to leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exultation; to know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived...this is to have succeeded.

And, second, a classic Tibetan & Nepali proverb, which I use at the ending piece of my book What Is Your Everest?:

Do not take lightly small good deeds
believing they can hardly help...
For drops of water,
one by one,
in time can fill a giant pond.

Expedition Audio - The Missing Files

Hi All,

During the course of the expedition, when I was unable to fire up the laptop and make full dispatches, I was making audio dispatches using my Iridium satellite phone and a podcast service from Hipcast.com. Unfortunately, though, there was a glitch in the system and the audio was stored on the Hipcast servers but never posted to the blog...Ugh.

I finally got it all figured out today, and have now posted all the audio. You can listen to it all with no problem now! Sorry about that!!

Back at ABC

Back at ABC after becoming the first Americans to reach the top of Gurla Mandhata, on September 26, 2006!

Live from Camp III, 23,000 feet!

Sunset call from 23,000 foot Camp II on the Chaglung'mlungha Glacier on our summit bid!

First night at Camp I, 20,000 feet

Our first night at Camp I, 20,000 feet, on Gurla Mandhata...But the call gets cut off by satellites going out of view!

Arrival at Advanced Basecamp on Gurla Mandhata!

A call from our first day at Advanced Basecamp on Gurla Mandhata!

Driphuk Gompa, Kailash Kora

Audio from Driphuk Gompa on Day 1 of the Kailash Kora.

From Yalbang Gompa, Humla, Nepal

Audio post from Yalbang Gompa, Humla, Nepal.

We snuck it in...

It was one of the toughest days I've had in the mountains...any mountain, anywhere. Gurla Mandhata is, simply, not an easy peak!

We awoke at 1:00 AM on the 26th. Our plan was to begin climbing immediately if the weather was calm, or wait if it was windy. No sense in expending too much energy if the day would not work for us. Fortunately, the night air was relatively warm (-5F or so) and calm. Logic would say that heating up some water for a cup of Java Juice (the best stuff on earth, by the way!), eating a bit of breakfast, putting on boots, and tying into a rope would not take more than 30 minutes or so. But, as I mentioned before, at altitude things take longer. So, it was not until 2:45 that we began walking out of our high camp at roughly 22,500 feet.

Our route proceeded up the seemingly endless Chaglung'mlungha Glacier, with benign icefalls on our left and the sweeping wall of the West Ridge to our right. As we climbed, eerie sounds continually emanated from the slab snow beneath our feet. Panuru and I discussed the conditions several times, both fearful of setting off an avalanche. We decided to bank left and gently traverse to higher, more wind-swept ground where we knew the hazards would be lessened.

By dawn, we had crested the final rise and entered the final valley of the Chaglung'mlungha. To the left, the forehead of the North Face of Gurla Mandhata rose like Yosemite's Half Dome, while the sweeping crest of the peak's east, south, and southwest ridges formed barriers in all other directions. As the sun rose, so did the wind, which had been pleasantly absent up to that point. Suddenly, angry gusts would come from nowhere, picking up pellets of ice and thrashing them against our faces. Granted, we all need a good exfoliation, but at 24,000 feet....? Anyway, despite the wind, we kept moving upward, across the vast stretches of glacial terrain.

The snow had deepened significantly, its windblown mass now waist-deep in places. Panuru, who had been in front breaking trail for most of the day, relinquished the deep-snow lead for the young bucks - Karma Rita and Mingma. But, trail breaking did not make it simple for everyone behind. The wind, carrying all the snow it could up, down, and across the glacier, would maliciously fill in each step once a foot was removed. By our calculations, this is how it worked out: The leader had waist-deep snow; the next 2 people struggled through thigh-deep snow; #4, which was often me, had about knee deep snow to work with; Stu and Kirk, toward the back of the line, still had shin-to-knee deep snow. So, we all got a workout!

Upward we plodded, pushing higher and burning our summit window. I was getting nervous: we were so close, the summit was just ahead, and yet desperate snow conditions were making us move horribly slow. I had decided that, given the conditions (it would be a slow descent), we needed to be on the summit by 11:00 AM. Panuru agreed, and as time ticked away the top seemed to remain distant.

But, finally, after climbing two steep rolls of about 60 degrees (we put fixed line on these pitches), I could see Panuru laying out prayer flags he brought from Kathmandu and took on the Kailash kora. We were at the summit! The views, in all directions, were spectacular: to the north, the stunning hallmarks of Kailash, Raksas, and Mansarovar; to the east and west, the barren plains of the Plateau aglow with their auburn hues; and, to the south, a jumbled, jagged mass of peaks, one atop another, glaciers, faces, cliffs, valleys, rivers...most unclimbed, many unnamed, the anonymous battalions of the Nepal Himalaya. It was, simply put, breathtaking.

We allowed ourselves only a bout 20 minutes on top before beginning our descent - it is a long way back down. But, Kirk and Stu, as always, were strong and stalwart, and kept plodding downhill with determination. After a brief stop at our high camp we continued down to Camp I. Panuru, Mingma, and Karma were headed down to ABC and blasted past us, determined to make it to ABC by tea time. The three of us, less strong and more fatigued, moved slowly, but finally made Camp I by 2:30 PM. As we thought about it, as good as our mountain food was, we decided Pemba and Bal Bahadur's dinner would be far more satisfying, and we again packed our backpacks and began the 3 hour walk down to ABC. It was not easy, and definitely came with lots of grunts and groans under heavy packs...But, at 6:30 PM, we stumbled into ABC, tired, happy, and ready for a good dinner.

As usual, Pemba and Bal did not disappoint, stuffing us with pizza, pasta, salad, fried, and a big cake for dessert. And, to top it off, Pemba pulled out a special bottle of Chinese red wine (Great Wall brand - the best in the region!) and a handful of Lhasa beers - the last thing we needed in our dehydrated state, but one of the first things we wanted! And, with that, we celebrated our climb with the entire team: David, Cynthia, Pemba, Bal, Stu, Kirk, Panuru, Mingma, and Karma. And, then, a good night's sleep, one that comes from awaking at 22,500', climbing to 25,500', and descending that day to 16,700'.

Tomorrow, we begin our drive across the Plateau and on to Kathmandu which, with luck, we'll hit on the 1st. We are all happy, and feeling lucky to have squeaked in the summit. Gurla is a mighty mountain, a tough peak, and one which we succeeded on only with great fortune and help from many. And, so far as we know, we were the first American team to make the top!

Before I sign off, I want to give a special thanks to David and Cynthia, who, as we climbed, faithfully monitored the radios, kept in touch, and David even made real time dispatches to his blog as we climbed. His efforts are greatly appreciated by us and by those who followed the climb. I wish David could have been there with us on the final summit push; he was there in spirit, certainly. Dhanyabhad, David-dajou!

OK, time to pack - I'll be in touch again soon...

The bid begins...

Climbing in the Himalaya is always, without exception, a juggling act. You've got to balance acclimatization with storms and the jet stream. Since we arrived on the mountain, this juggling act has been going on inside my head. Optimally, we would have just raced up the mountain on day one when the weather was pretty good. But, of course, to do that would have spelled death from altitude for probably all of us. We needed to acclimate, which takes time.

But, there are also weather phenomenon to be aware of. The monsoon, while retreating slowly south, is by no means done for the season. And, its evil twin, the jet stream, is lurking in the north, waiting for the opportunity to rake the mountains with 150 mph winds. Thanks to Michael Fagin and www.everestweather.com, we know a bit about the weather and trends in the Everest/Cho Oyu region. A large storm has been dumping snow on Cho Oyu, and the jet stream is slowly creeping southward. Good things to know...but, we are about 200 miles west and 50 miles north of Cho Oyu, so it is hard to know with any degree of certainty when these weather trends will become realities for us.

As a result, I have been thinking a great deal about schedules, timing, and options. Given the reality of a major storm coming our way soon, we need to make a bid for the top. While we have a strong team, we are alone on the mountain; a 2 foot snowstorm would potentially end our trip cold. So, it is time to make a go for the summit...and keep our fingers crossed that the weather holds.

Sadly, David will not be joining us on our summit push. He has been having a tough time with the altitude this trip, and cannot seem to maintain a good pace while climbing. It is yet another example of the fickle nature of altitude: I have climbed with David in the past, and he has always been strong. He has climbed McKinley, Vinson, Cotapaxi, Chimborazo, and countless other peaks worldwide. But, for some reason, the altitude is getting the best of him this time around.

While we will miss David a lot on the summit push, my hat is off to him for the noble decision he has made. It is easy to ignore a problem and keep pushing toward a goal until disaster strikes...all you need is ego. But, to acknowledge a problem, to drop the ego and make a decision that is the best for the entire team...well, that takes guts, that takes humility, that takes courage. David has all of those, and I am proud beyond words at his decision; I know it was not an easy one.

We are off to Camp I tomorrow morning. I will try to call in audio dispatches from Camp II and elsewhere as battery and time permit, and I hope you all can listen to them!

Namaste...