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RMI Guide Mike King called this morning at 7:06 a.m. The Mt. Rainier Summit Climb team turned at Ingraham Flats due to difficult route conditions. The teams are planning to begin their descent from Camp Muir between 8:30 - 9:00 a.m.
I've just returned to Washington after taking part in a six day Avalanche Level 3 course in Jackson, WY. 'Avy 3' is the highest level of formal avalanche training in the US. It is a professional level course designed for
Guides, Ski Patrollers and other avalanche forecasters. One of the best parts of the course was interacting with the other participants who all came with a high level of experience. The instructors were top-notch as well, but the best learning opportunity came from the weather. Our course began with a huge winter storm dumping several feet of snow on top of a very weak base. This was a perfect recipe for avalanches and over the remainder of the course we were able to study the cycle as it progressed. It was fascinating to say the least and we were able to sharpen our skills while closely examining the highly unstable snowpack. The ability to take weather reports and our own observations, then build a hypothesis of how the snowpack should behave, followed by then going out into the field and testing our predictions was invaluable. It was a very productive week to say the least! I'm also very thankful for the professionalism of the instructors and the participants. We were able to keep the course very safe while also being able to get the most out of the time we spent in the field.
RMI Guide Seth Waterfall
Update: 4:04 am PT
RMI Guide Mark Tucker reports from
Everest Base Camp that the climbing team has safely returned to Camp 2 (ABC). They will spend the night resting, eating and recovering from the summit climb. Tomorrow, Mark is looking forward to welcoming the team back to Base Camp.
On The Map
The Four Day Climb August 25 - 28 was approaching the crater rim of Mt. Rainier at 6:40 am led by RMI Guides Alan Davis and Seth Burns. Alan reported climbing time from Camp Muir to the summit was 6 1/2 hours for the teams this morning. It's a beautiful day to be in the mountains with clear skies and light winds. The teams will enjoy some time at the summit today before retracing their steps and returning to Camp Muir. After a short time at Camp Muir, they will continue the final 4,500' to Paradise and conclude their program at Rainier BaseCamp later this afternoon.
Congratulations to today's climbers!
Today was officially a rest day. Our team had different definitions of what that means but all in all we are going to bed content.
If you haven’t already guessed we had breakfast at 7:30 am, drank tea and coffee until 9 then prepared to go on a short walk. Being a lazy day, three out of the five departed by 10:15 while two others stayed back to enjoy some down time in the lodge. The weather started cloudy but improved by late morning offering new views of Makalu, the world’s fifth highest mountain and the north side of Ama Dablam which we have been viewing from its more popular side on the west.
Two members of the team hiked to a small summit at 16,600' for some extra acclimatizing while the others went back to the lodge for lunch.
Overall it was a pleasant day here in Pheriche which should set us up for our next stretch to Lobuche tomorrow.
We hope all is well back home.
--RMI Guide Adam Knoff
As Dave Hahn wrote yesterday, my attempt at trying to climb this monster called Mt. Everest is over. I wanted to write today about what went into that decision.
Over the past several weeks we have made several "rotations" on Mt. Everest to higher and higher camps and elevations. During these rotations I have felt quite strong for the most part, and in fact, our entire team has been strong. One of the keys to climbing this beast is that the group work together, and move efficiently and rapidly through the most dangerous parts of the mountain. We have in fact been doing that.
One of the key objectives of our rotations is to acclimatize. What this means is to allow the body to adjust to higher and higher altitudes by moving up the mountain slowly, by climbing "high" and then sleeping at a lower altitude, and then descending to a lower altitude (Everest Base Camp) and starting the pattern all over again.
About a week ago I started to notice that my body was not acclimatizing like the other members of the team beginning at about 22,000 feet. At night at this altitude, when I was attempting to sleep, I would be drifting off to sleep and then I would have to sit up and gasp for air. I would then pant for a minute or two, and then the entire process would repeat itself. This occurred for 4 to 5 nights ALL NIGHT LONG. I tried Diamox (a medicine used for acclimatization), but it didn't help me. During these nights I would look over at Sara (my daughter) who was restfully sleeping in her sleeping bag, and curse her (just kidding).
At about 22,000 feet my body simply stopped acclimatizing like it had been from the beginning of the trip. The result of this was that during the day I would not be rested. During our climbs I would be panting hard, and I would be slower than I had been, and now slower than the rest of the group. I tried hard to figure out how to sleep and get my acclimatization going again, but I just couldn't do it. I was getting weaker (not stronger like the rest of my teammates) every day above 22,000. Sara, on the other hand, would be getting stronger each day that she spent up there. I told her she was never going to get a car and she was grounded (just kidding again).
After our last rotation we returned to Base Camp. I went to bed and woke up LIKE A NEW MAN. Simply descending to Base Camp (which is still at 17,500 feet) allowed me to get a 10 hour night sleep, the first night sleep I had in 6 days. I slept like a rock, and I felt great (and feel great right now). So it's a weird feeling to be sitting at Base Camp, feeling extremely strong, and yet knowing that my attempt at the summit is over.
But, I made the decision that my attempt to climb Mt. Everest is over, and I know it's the correct decision. And here are my considerations:
1. I do not want to be a burden to my teammates. I think the hardest decision a person can make is to evaluate himself (or his children). It is very difficult to make these comparisons. I feel that I am a strong climber below 22,000, and still, above 22,000, I still think that I am an "okay" climber. I can climb forward past many people on the trail, but still, I can not keep up with my teammates, and I can not climb the tallest mountain in the world. These are tough assessments, but must be done honestly and candidly (so, next time one of your kids is cut from a team let it be known that I CUT MYSELF FROM MY OWN TEAM!)
2. This mountain is over 29,000 feet tall. At Camp 2 I would still be 1.5 VERTICAL MILES below the summit. If this mountain were 24k or 25k feet tall there is no doubt in my mind I would make myself summit. But, this is a monster. I have no interest in "high pointing" at Camp 3 or Camp 4. If I can't climb this mountain to the top, then I am done.
3. Sara. I am not simply a member of a typical team of, say, 8 guys. I am also the father of another member of this team. Another consideration that I must always have is what is in the best interest of Sara. And that's easy - to eliminate from the team its weakest member (me) that might cause the team to move slower, or - if I pushed myself beyond my limits - that might cause the team to have to stop to medically rescue me off the mountain. I know that with 6 professional members of our team, and one client (Sara), that, with me dropping out, Sara is in a better place. She will have an entire team of the best climbers in the world working with one client - her.
4. People die on Mt. Everest every year. It's a brutal, unforgiving place. There are many motivations for climbing this mountain (ego, personal challenge, etc.) and sometimes those motivations drive people to ignore the signs that their bodies are giving them and then they push themselves well beyond their limits. Its protocol in these blogs not to write about what you see on Mt. Everest. There are many other teams, many other climbers, and many other people making decisions about whether to proceed with their climb or to end it. Many continue to keep climbing. I am choosing to make sure that I don't die on Mt. Everest. I have a great family, great friends, and a great community, (and many things to do with the rest of my life) and I am looking forward to all of these things in the years ahead.
Dave Hahn and Linden Mallory are terrific guides. Dave has made this my decision, and has said repeatedly that I can "take another shot" and I can keep climbing (this trip is pretty expensive). But there really would be no purpose to trying again. I have been up to about 22,000 feet before and have struggled beginning at that altitude. Before this trip I thought that it was other factors that caused my lack of acclimatization (lack of water, not eating enough, etc.). But now I know that my body is just not made for climbing 8000 meter peaks.
I have climbed a lot of tall mountains (Aconcagua, Denali, Kili, etc..) and I really enjoy the experience. But if you hear of me planning to give an 8000 meter peak another try please GRAB ME BY ME ANKLES and stop me. My body is just not built for it.
I will be hanging out in Base Camp for the next 3 weeks (like a parent on the sidelines at Tophat) cheering on my daughter and the rest of the team. There are many things to do at Base Camp - last night I lost in Jenga, but came in second in a big Yahtzee tournament. And most every night there is a late night poker game (guides from many teams and countries like to play Texas Hold em, it turns out). And I am surrounded by the tallest and most beautiful mountains in the world. So, all is good here at Everest BaseCamp.
I am disappointed that I will not get a chance to summit, but I am happy that I made this journey, that I made it with my 16 year old daughter, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I will remember it forever.
Love and peace to all.
Bill M.
The team led by RMI Guides Dustin Wittmier and Matias Francis reached the summit of Mt. Triumph today! The team climbed Triumph's northeast ridge to the summit where they enjoyed views deep into the North Cascades, including Mt. Baker. The team is making the most of their time in the North Cascades and plan to climb Thornton Peak tomorrow before their program concludes later this week.
The low lying clouds lifted overnight and the landscape was a brilliant white this morning, yesterday's fresh snow reflecting the morning sun with such intensity we found ourselves squinting when merely sitting near the teahouse windows. Over breakfast we looked out up the valley, across the rhododendron trees and roofs of Deboche all covered in snow, to the summits of Everest, Lhotse, and Ama Dablam above. The winds continued to whip the summits of Everest and Lhotse, both peaks flying long white plumes from their tops.
With a relaxed agenda for the day, we wandered through the trees of Deboche to the small convent here where two of the nuns happily showed us inside of their gompa, doing their best to answer our various questions about the paintings, relics, and scriptures inside. We then climbed back up the hill above our teahouse to the Tengboche Monastery, admiring the panorama around us, with views from Namche all the way up to Everest. Following a small path above the Monastery, we climbed further up the ridge, passing lines of chortens and strings of prayer flags strung by the monks, until we could look down on the buildings below.
With the afternoon clouds already building, we spent a few hours in Tengboche visiting the small museum and outlying buildings of the Monastery, reading, sipping tea, and swapping humorous stories. At three in the afternoon several monks blew their horns from the front terraces of the Monastery, signaling the beginning of afternoon prayers. We quietly removed our shoes and found a seat around the edge of their prayer room, listening to the half dozen monks present recite their prayers, their deep voices rising and descending in unison, pausing occasionally - and all at the exact same instant - to sip their tea before continuing on. The chamber, incredibly decorated with murals, ornate paintings on every surface, and a two-story Buddha surveying the scene below is an overwhelming room, contrasting sharply with the muted colors of the Khumbu. It is also freezing cold and by the time we emerged into a lightly falling snow we were chilled to the bone. We hurried back to our teahouse as the clouds again settled in around us, grabbing our coats, filling our cups with tea, and settling in around the stove when we arrived.
It has been a very relaxing day, offering us the chance for incredible views of the mountains around us, glimpses of the ongoing religious life here, and time for our bodies to continue to acclimatize and adapt to the new elevations before we move up the valley to over 14,000' tomorrow.
RMI Guide Linden Mallory
On The Map
In every part of the world where we travel, some RMI individual is tasked with developing & maintaining the quality program presented on the web. Whatever their role, that individual typically has a personal attachment, investment and history with the lands, mountains or peoples visited during the program. Their effort includes much more than simply creating an appealing itinerary and a glitzy web presence. The behind-the-scenes work includes addressing RMI’s environmental responsibilities, social responsibilities, and the development of solid logistical support, from understanding local customs to establishing a safety net. Most importantly, this effort involves building relationships with the local community, helping to ensure that we operate as partners wherever we travel with whomever we work. For Carstensz Pyramid in Papua, New Guinea, I get to be that individual.
The
description of our program strikingly claims that we are the only outfit in the Western Hemisphere to partner exclusively with indigenous Papuans. Does it make you wonder how that came to pass?
Papua’s somewhat notorious reputation extends beyond the daily rain, and slick mud and logs of the jungle trek, and beyond the remote nature, sharp rock, and high altitude of the actual climb. And that’s already a lot! Truthfully, for those who research their objectives carefully, Papua’s reputation extends even beyond the uncertainty and flexibility required to visit an area where political tensions and security concerns exists. Shouldn’t you choose your outfitter most carefully?
In February I spent approximately three weeks in New Guinea’s “interior” with the intention not just to climb Carstensz Pyramid again, having guided a recent trip, but, as I enjoy saying, “I went to meet people.” Most of my time was spent among the Moni and Dani tribes of the highlands, but I also had the opportunity to shake hands with Indonesian government officials, Papuan regency representatives, folks with the Freeport mine, school teachers, pastors and missionaries, both Indonesian and expat, village elders, and even folks who were likely associated with the freedom movement (though that was difficult to tell because it seemed like politics was on everyone’s lips.)
I met a lot of people, explained what I was up to, and had many discussions with many people (with both tribal and Bahasa Indonesia translators helping me). Some folks expressed utter amazement that I was walking through their lands. This is predominantly because I was off the beaten path, i.e., not on the traditional, historical routes which have seen a good bit of use (and abuse). My presence also elicited appreciation (something I didn’t necessarily expect) because I was choosing to walk through the land rather than helicopter over it. Very practically speaking, people explained, flying over their lands excludes them from the benefits tourism can bring. I was already convinced that the model for sustainable tourism needed to include the indigenous peoples who inhabited the lands we wish to travel though en route to Carstensz, and spending all these weeks on the ground emphasized my sense for following socially responsible practices.
RMI's commitment to
Responsible Climbing pursues environmentally and socially responsible practices. This is simple enough to say, but a significant investment of time, energy & money is required to make good on those words. I have been told by many of the people with whom I connected in Papua, that my “relationship building” excursion (which included porter and trekking guide training, as well as discussions regarding tourist behaviors and expectations for each of the villages along the trek) was the first of its kind by a Western outfitter.
Sadly, the people of Papua (whether indigenous or Indonesian) have become accustomed to transactions which center solely around the exchange of money. I would suggest that for a tribal culture, where community is highly valued, to encounter trekkers & climbers with expectations to “take” home interesting stories, photographs and a summit, who repeatedly fail to “give” relationships, virtually guarantees a poor experience for both sides. I’m not trying to paint too broad of a picture because the truth is that each individual Papuan also wants what is best for his/her own person, family or tribe, just as we do in the West. I do, however, suggest that our social responsibility must encompass more than just paying porters well for work done well. Failure to build strong relationships will lead further down the present path experienced by many Western outfitters: where porters feel poorly treated and are sometimes not paid, and where tourists feel exploited and are sometimes extorted. Looking further down that path, do you wonder what it might look like? It looks just like the tensions which closed the route through Beoga years ago after hostages were taken. It looks just like the tensions which are currently threatening the Illaga route following a hostage/extortion situation in July 2012, or the abandonment and subsequent death of a sick Danish climber by a highly experienced outfitter. It looks just like an increasing number of operators who no longer have the option to peaceably travel through tribal lands and now offer helicopter transit up and over “tribal tensions.” And honestly, with some of the political and societal tensions which exist, unless outfitters work to develop relationships which are in line with indigenous tribal cultures, tourists will have no options other than to hire armed police or military to escort them through tribal lands. Wouldn’t it be more culturally and socially responsible to build relationships with the native peoples in which both parties collaborated to build a sustainable model of tourism?
I encourage you to follow my blog at
http://climbcarstensz.wordpress.com as I continue to share stories of what I have learned and of what we seek to build over time.
Amakane!
I had the previlage of climing with Gombu in 1978
on Mt.McKinley along with Phil Ersler with the RMI
team. I spent several nights in the same tent with
him listening to him tell stories about his Everest
climbs, what an adventure to have meet him. Saw him
over 20years later on the way to the summit of Mt. Rainer and he reconized me!
Posted by: Greg H. Craft on 5/25/2012 at 3:59 pm
August 1984. My first climb of Mt. Rainier. Gombu was a great tutor, using crampons and an ice axe. The crevasse rescues were scary stuff, at first, but experience made them easier to set up and use successfully. After all the years in between, I remember Gombu well. Rest in peace.
Posted by: G. Arnold Hartford on 5/23/2012 at 3:54 pm
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