Wesley L.

An Unexpected Ascent Up Everest

The petrifying ascent up Everest was one of multiple cliff-hanging moments in my climbing career. It was 6:00 early that morning on April 7, 1997. One of my childhood friends, John, and me, Robert just came in from another climbing expedition at K2, a mountain, and stayed at a lodge for the night. While 17,000 ft above sea level, the high altitude caused us to have trouble breathing in a city surrounded in thin air, especially at night, showing its effects of dizziness and dehydration. We planned to climb Everest after seeing many people accomplish this feat, so we thought we could try it. The hike up the lodge yesterday was tiring, and the altitude proved another challenge on our ascent up Everest. Despite this, John, stood 6 feet 3 inches and athletic, which gave him an advantage for the strenuous climb.                             

       I heard the sounds of animals, like moose and bears, at approximately 5:45 am. These noises continued, and our silent response was answered with gradually louder noises.  15 minutes later, we decided that the noises coming from all corners wouldn’t be endurable,, so we woke up at 6 sharp. Around 6:30, John and I exited our lodge and enjoyed a granola bar before beginning our long day. After being famished for over 17 hours, we munched on the crunchy delight of a granola bar. The last thing we did was packing up our belongings. Our oxygen supply was one aspect we did not forget about, as death was probable without it. Knowing there wouldn’t be an ideal spot to eat and there was limited time, we began our 13,000 ft ascent up from our lodge to the summit. 

We began our hike, hoping that everything would be in perfect symphony. The first 2,000 ft we climbed was an ease, and it would probably be the only obstacle-free stretch we encountered. The snow was soothing and satisfying to touch. It was composed of perfectly firm texture, making it easy to trek through. Nothing was wrong with this, and we hoped for this to be the same. Immediately, after leaving the area, we encountered eerie clouds hovering over the area. Soon enough, the rain came. The rain turned into a rainstorm, which then turned into a hailstorm. Eventually, the wind started picking up. The wind was howling, carrying sediment and snow, and all of this chaos swirled up in a tornado-like formation, charging toward us. "Where do we hide? Help! We need somewhere to hide!”, shouted John. The wind’s noise made my friend’s command almost inaudible. Finally, I was able to interpret his message. “I don’t know. If we hide behind a rock, all the minuscule bits of stone will hit us”. That was my only thought, as visibility was too poor to see anything. It was as if someone was running, and suddenly, there was a weight they had to carry. In this case, our nemesis, the wind, paid no heed to our goal, and similar to the aforementioned situation, elongated our time. Rocks were pounding against our bodies, with the impact of a water bottle thrown on our stomachs. The power that we were being tormented with just got stronger every time, and finally, after an hour of perseverance and determination, the wind let go and went to another mountain, and as we continued our climb, we saw the tempest destroy the nature on that mountain. 

“Hey! How much more climbing until we achieve our goal?”, asked John. “Currently, both of us are standing at about 25,000 ft, with some 4,000 feet to trek through. If conditions stay right, we should be at the summit in about 3 hours.”, I responded.  We were glad that the tempest was over and prayed for no bad conditions, so we continued climbing. This would stay true until a huge, vast, white abyss seemingly expanding over the whole area was visible to our naked eyes. We couldn’t see the summit, but for us, this was the least of our concerns, as this obstacle resembling the unenjoyable storm was to be next. 

Once we reached the base of the cloud, it was all blank. It turned out to be that a dense layer of fog came in from another mountain, and it was here. We couldn’t see anything. John and I thought of a solution to overcome this. Eventually, after hours of useless thinking, we used our sense of touch. The fog was white from all corners, nothing, even from the closest distance possible, was visible. The deceptiveness of this was like a person stuck in a blank room, except that we weren’t “stuck”. Now that everything was blank from all corners, we kept using our sense of touch to navigate our way to the summit. Unlike the other time the tempest slowed us down inside of it, we wouldn’t notice that the climax of our current problem would be worse after it faded away. For about an hour, this process was repeated, and we followed our creed of determination. The fog finally went away, and the skies were clear. Just as excitement hit us about our goal that we’ve been longing to reach, the unexpected happened. While in the fog, we accidentally took a wrong turn and mysteriously ended up on a stretch of rock. Its only connection to the main trail was a 3-inch rock stretch, extending 6 feet. Knowing that it wouldn’t be that nimble-minded to jump 6 feet, we couldn’t do anything about it. We were doomed, praying that a miracle for me and John would happen. I knew that cell reception wouldn’t be available here. Yelling for help would be useless, because there was probably no one but us who went through this fog. As we were doomed, the attenuated connection, the only connection to the trail, started to crack. Some crevices formed as a result of our weight. Soon enough, the unimaginable happened. 

Between us and the ground laid a 150 feet gap.  Eventually, we fell, both realizing that our creed that we believed in resulted in failure. “Wait, John! If we don't make it, you have been a good friend to me, and we will never forget each other. "Bye!”, I frightenedly said. Determination, to a certain extent, would have an opposing result than expected. The experience was extremely spine-chilling, and when we touched the ground, we were all injured. I fell into a lake, with my head submerging first. The impact was painful, but wasn’t as bad as if I fell on a solid surface. Immediately, when my whole body entered the water, sharp bits of garbage immediately pierced my body. The garbage, which I predicted, most likely came from people dumping trash into lakes. Many stories about Everest have spilled rumors about people trashing the mountain. Once I reached the bottom of the lake, I didn’t have the capacity to hold my breath. My lungs were aching and sore, but I couldn’t locate my way beneath the lake. Knowing that I was at the bottom of the lake, I just squeezed my legs together, and propelled my body up in a straight motion resembling a bullet. Immediately when my nose and mouth crossed the barrier of water to the huge abyss of air, I took a breath without any second thought and hesitation. I swam to the lakeshore, which was unexpectedly shallow, something pleasant after being wrapped around in a huge body of deep water.  When I went to check on John, I was traumatized. A huge hole pierced through his body, bleeding out tons of red, disgusting blood that leaked rapidly. At that moment, I knew that he was dead. I started to understand what had happened, realizing that taking a risk was not worth it. John meant so much to me; we had been childhood friends for so long, and it was unbelievable that his life was taken so early. After three hours, rescue services came. By that time, it was around 6:00 pm. They carried John and got me to safety. I was transported to a hospital in Kathmandu, Nepal, having various cuts from all the sharp garbage that people have littered in the water. I was at least glad that I didn’t suffer as many injuries as I would have if my fall had been on land. John’s body was put into a coffin and local services told us that he was sent back to our hometown. At midnight, in Nepal’s capital, I was released from the hospital, and a helicopter flew me back to the lodge I stayed at. By 2 am, I was already tired from a wild day, packed my bags to leave the cabin, and took a nap. The next morning, I began my long 24 hour journey that would take me home. After spending 2 days, and an additional day going back home, I had arrived, exhausted. I had learned that risk taking isn’t my best approach when it comes to mountaineering. Determination, our creed, wouldn’t get us to the summit, but rather would terminate our journey, and just because other climbers’ experiences were successful, shouldn’t convince us to do such actions.

My Other Creations