'It's not so bad,' says my sherpa, Dawa.
'Do you think I'll make it?' I queried quietly.
'Do you think I'll make it?' I queried quietly.
'Maybe. I don't know.'
Not exactly a vote of confidence, but we smashed it. It was one the hardest things I've ever done, but the feeling of standing on top of a mountain is pretty special once you actually get some oxygen into your lungs.
Not exactly a vote of confidence, but we smashed it. It was one the hardest things I've ever done, but the feeling of standing on top of a mountain is pretty special once you actually get some oxygen into your lungs.
We started in our own little Base Camp at around 5000m. I shared a tent with a Birmingham lad named Will, and as a result we became friends very quickly.
We awoke at 2am to find an half an inch of ice lining the inside of our tent and the tops of our sleeping bags. It was -12 degrees inside the tent, which had been assured was 'warm'. Dawa whipped up some Spam noodle soup for breakfast, then we were off. Will pulled out after an hour because he couldn't breath, so it was just Dawa and I creeping past the other groups by headlamp.
As the sun came up we reached the ice-pack, and I had to take off my gloves for 15 minutes to strap on my crampons. From there I lost feeling in my hands for about 90 minutes; my feet were long gone. It was here that I was seriously doubting myself.
We trudged over this marshmallow-land, short roped to each other for about an hour.
'Don't fall in the holes', says Dawa. 'Ok mate,' was all I could muster as I tried to think of something like 'No sh*t sherlock!'
When we reached the first rope line, I had to pummel my hands against each other for 20 minutes to get the feeling back into them so I could operate the rope line.
After the first rope line, (above), we climbed up this ridge (below), which was about a metre wide, 300 metres to the top.
Well, almost to the top. This little pitch was put there just to make sure you really wanted to get to the summit.
And then I was on top, 6211 metres above sea level, minus 16 degrees Celsius, blue sky, no wind. Why would you want to be anywhere else in the world?
....and I looked like this: (cold)
And this: (tired)
And this: (stoked)
What's next?
1 comment:
Stephen Mercer.....Da Man!
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