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Satuday, September 3, 2022 8:00 am PDT

Hey y'all,

On summit of Baker at 7:45.Moderate winds and smoky skies. 100% of team on top.

Tatum, Roland, and Team

Friday September 4, 2022 9:00 pm PDT

Hey y'all, 

Yesterday we had perfect weather for our hike to camp without a cloud in the sky. We made camp at 6,100. Today we had a good school day with light winds and smoky skies.

Tatum, Roland, and Team

Mike Walter checked in from camp this afternoon. Mike reported avalanche conditions and decided to turn due to unstable snow conditions, rain on snow, some natural avalanche conditions and 30 - 60cm postholing.

They hope to climb thru Coleman-Deming and then hike out tomorrow. 

Update:10:51 pm PT The team has safely reached the South Col. Everyone is doing well. They are going to take a quick break before continuing down to Camp 2 (Advanced Base Camp). Mark Tucker Update: 6:46 pm PT Mark Tucker reports from Everest Base Camp that RMI Guides Dave Hahn, Seth Waterfall and their Sherpa team, Tshering and Kaji have reached the summit of Mt. Everest! This marks Dave's 15th summit of Mt. Everest and the third time for Seth to have reached the summit. Tshering and Kaji have both made their sixth successful summit of Mt.Everest. The team reported a beautiful day with a cold wind. They will spend about 30 minutes on top before starting their descent. Congratulations to all!

On The Map

Monday, June 27, 2022 - 8:14 am PT

Good morning all!

What a walk we had! Leaving 14,000' Camp with sights on basecamp is a long journey. We woke at 10pm, packed our things, and were on the downward trend by midnight. It felt good to be walking downhill but pulling a sled was less than desirable. But with so much motivation it made it possible. With the help from another RMI team, who dug up our 11,000' cache, we made fast work reorganizing and moving on. The glacier down below has changed a little. We zig and zagged left and right to avoid big crevasses. Hours went by, miles gained, elevation lost. As we got near basecamp we did a quick crevasse rescue scenario, before making our last uphill walk. Heart break hill is truly heartbreaking with tired legs, tired bodies, and tired minds. But as usual the team dug real deep and blew up it.

After a few hours napping at base and some luck the clouds parted in Talkeetna and the pilot took off. The sounds of those Otter planes were glorious music to our ears! A shower, a toilet, a beer, food, and sleep never felt or sounded so good. The team earned every amenity possible from such a long hard day. I am thoroughly impressed and proud of all the team members. It has been a fantastic journey. One for the books! Here's to healing sunburns, chapped lips, and sore muscles.

Congrats team, you made it!

RMI Guides Hannah, Kiira, and Dan

Our hope was to make the summit bid short and sweet. Not so much because going for the top of Mount Everest is an awful and onerous chore, but more because dragging it out can be. Besides, we believed we were shooting for a discreet patch of calm weather and forecasts for such a patch are generally only reliable a few days in advance. It was to our advantage to cover big chunks of the mountain in a relative hurry. Leaving Everest Base Camp and relocating to ABC in one push was our first real test in this effort and that went quite well. Even so, we'd planned a full rest day at ABC in order to get recovered, re-hydrated and ready for the real test... -all of the Lhotse Face in one shot... about a vertical mile which would take us to 26,000 ft. The rest time was dull and frustrating though, to be honest. Most of our friends were already up poised for the summit and in fact, a fair number had already made the top and were coming back down. Hanging a day at ABC required patience and patience two months into an expedition required discipline. I drank absolutely as much water as I could and fretted over whether I'd be strong enough to keep up with my partners. Tshherring, Dawa and Kaji would each be carrying a bit more than me and Linden would be venturing into new terrain, so perhaps I'd eke out advantages here and there. And if all of those advantages failed, I'd rely on an old guide trick... specifying that my pace was the only one that would get us to our goal with strength intact... only fools would go slower or faster. The five of us got out of ABC at 2 AM and as usual, walking on a glacier in the dark cleansed my brain of concerns about competing with my partners. It was a perfect night with the peaks all lit by a giant moon. We all seemed to be climbing strong, making it to the base of the Lhotse Face in about an hour. Then we were across the bergschrund and moving steadily up the ropes with our headlights picking out steps worn into the ice. A few hours labor as the world got lighter and we cruised on into our Camp III site at close to 24,000 ft. We each added a ten-pound oxygen bottle to our load at this point, but the big advantage was that we got to turn those bottles on and start breathing right. Linden and I joked during the next hour on steep ice, heading up toward the Yellow Band, that it was the easiest climbing of the entire trip due to the introduction of the O's. Sunrise on the face helped a little as well, pushing back the cold. We'd begun the Face with only a few other Sherpa teams out and about, but by the time we passed Camp III we were in full traffic as plenty of Western teams were getting out of their camps and heading up. Sure enough, we also began to see folks coming down from the South Col -the day before had been a big one for Everest summiting and this same day (the 20th of May) was going to be even bigger. Eventually, as we climbed through the Yellow Band, we ended up in less-busy space and we were able to stop for a little water, food and photography. It was plain that we were enjoying perfect conditions and this made us pretty optimistic for the climb ahead. The Geneva Spur was to be our final obstacle of the day, guarding access to the South Col, but easy snow conditions and reliable fixed ropes on the Spur made it a cake walk. We were excited to link up with friends and fellow guides at the South Col and to hear their stories. And then we were excited to dive in our tents and get eating and drinking and resting for the evening. Winds actually increased during our afternoon at the Col and clouds and snow moved in, but we were pretty sure things would ease by the time we were ready for climbing. Linden and I shared a tent and kept reminding one another of things we needed to pack or prepare for the climb. We touched base regularly with Mark Tucker down at 17,500 ft and tried to find out if he had any updates about the weather and the whereabouts of other climbers. As it got dark, we pulled sleeping bags over our down suits and tried to shut our eyes, but it was pretty miserable rest. There were plenty of climbers around us on different schedules, coughing, moaning, yelling to one another, and testing their radios... there was our own anxiety and desire to get moving, and there was the cold and the noise of the wind. When Tshherring gave me a yell at about 9:40 PM, I was happy to get out of the tent and look at the weather. There was already a great string of about forty headlights moving up the Triangular Face below Everest's Balcony and I was pleased to see we were the only team shooting for a midnight start. The clouds had blown away and the wind was in the process of quitting. It was another beautiful night and it was time to get after some strong cups of coffee. Just before midnight, we wrestled ourselves into harnesses and crampons out in the cold and wedged Oxygen bottles into our packs. Kaji, Tchherring, Linden and I said goodbye to Dawa, who'd remain at the Col in case of problems, and we checked each other over pretty good before turning toward Everest and the Triangular Face. Kaji took the lead and set an easy but steady pace. In other years, I'd climbed over broken and loose rock on this steep and continuously difficult section of the climb, but this time we found good steps kicked in snow. Eventually we came upon other teams, but passed these without too much trouble since we were only four climbers and we were very capable of unclipping from the fixed ropes and putting things into "four wheel drive" with our crampons and ice axes. We were at the Balcony (27,500 ft) in just about three hours and were by then ahead of all but about a dozen climbers. Now on the SouthEast Ridge, we negotiated a narrow track on a crest of snow bordering the immense Kangshung Face. Winds came up, but not steady or greatly worrying winds... just irritating gusts that blew powder snow all over us for thirty seconds at a time. These quit a little after sunrise when we were coming to grips with the steep and rocky flanks of the South Summit. In the process, we passed a few more climbers and then got onto the South Summit by ourselves. This point allowed clear radio communication with Mark Tucker down in BC and we took advantage, letting him know just how perfect everything was up top. Then we got going on the thrilling traverse to the Hillary Step. The ropes were fixed perfectly, steps were well-kicked in the snow and the winds were non-existent... so when combined with the lack of traffic, it all had me thinking to more difficult and stressful times in these same places. We each felt lucky and happy to swing up and around the boulders of the Hillary Step. We made the top shortly after, at around 6:55 AM. There were a number of climbers there when we arrived, but most had climbed from Tibet (via the NorthEast Ridge). Temperatures were moderate and easy and so we didn't rush our own summit celebration. Eventually we had the top to ourselves and enjoyed the quiet. After months of life in deep valleys or on steep mountain faces, it was a welcome novelty to experience gigantic and open 360 degree views. But not for long. We needed to climb down to safety. This turned out to be a snap with three strong and experienced partners. In fact, we were back shaking Dawa's hand at the South Col in just a couple of hours. We ate, drank and broke down camp, getting ready to complete the last stage of our blitz... if we could get all the way down to ABC on this day, our bodies would be subjected to far less altitude related stress... we'd recover from the climb a good deal faster. But ironically, we'd have to work much harder in the short term. We hoisted big and heavy packs and climbed down the vertical mile... sweating like crazy in our down suits (but now in cloud and new-falling snow) our arms were getting tired from thousands of feet of rappelling, our toes were getting jammed forward in our boots, and our throats were getting parched from altitude and bottled oxygen... but we were getting lower and safer with every step. We rolled into ABC by mid-afternoon, glad to see Uberaj and glad to see our tents. I was exhausted but confident that I was exhausted in the very place I wanted to be. We were safe and the monkey was going to be off our backs for just a little while. Of course, the last trip down through the Khumbu Icefall would be in the morning... but worrying about that could wait until real sleep and real food had a chance to kick in and work their magic. Best Regards, RMI Guide Dave Hahn

The Four Day All Women's Climb August 6 - 9 was unable to summit due to weather.  RMI Guides Emma Lyddan, Hannah Smith and Lily Emerson turned the climbers around at 12,800' due to lightning, ice and rain. The teams returned safely back to Camp Muir. They will descend the remaining 4.5 miles to Paradise later this morning and conclude their program at Rainier BaseCamp later this afternoon.

Photos: Hannah Smith

Still at Everest Base. Still a very difficult situation for all involved. JJ and Billy led the climbing team on a hike to Pumori Camp One today, where they enjoyed awesome views of Mount Everest (during our hike to the same point last week we had no views due to an ill-timed and swirling snowstorm). Mark Tucker and I attended a series of somewhat tense and serious meetings between team leaders, Sherpas, and the few government representatives present in camp. It is very difficult to say what will happen going forward but one cannot under emphasize the enormity of the tragedy to the Sherpa community. Each team, if it has not suffered death and loss directly, has lost relatives, close friends and neighbors to the icefall avalanche of April 18. In too many cases, survivors saw the friends perish before their eyes or else they dealt with the difficult aftermath of body recovery personally. Our Sherpa partners love their jobs and love to climb, but nobody is climbing now and all are struggling to come to terms with how to proceed in a way that honors those lost and protects those left alive. Best Regards, RMI Guide Dave Hahn

I believed I'd imagined Kent Harvey's call to me at ten minutes to four in the morning. I didn't have any alarm set; it was a rest day coming on and I was sound asleep in my tent. So fully unconscious that Kent called me several times and when I finally responded, I had no idea where I was or what was going on. It was dark, and as he suggested that something had happened that I might want to be concerned with, I finished rubbing my eyes and zipped open my door. The beauty of the scene seemed unreal and impossible. The moon had set, and the sun wasn't close to being up, but there was starlight on the Khumbu Icefall, Nuptse and the great bulk of Everest's West Shoulder. Kent was saying that he'd just seen a fairly large avalanche come down the Shoulder-sending a cloud of debris across the Icefall-and he was concerned that climbers may have been caught. I listened to him, but I was having trouble taking my eyes from the bright planet perfectly framed above the Icefall and bracketed by the mountains. I did manage to look down and left enough finally to see several small strings of headlamps, just where I knew the avalanche had to have come down. I turned on my radio, taking a guess that my friends at IMG had people in the area. I listened to Mark Tucker calmly and carefully check in with his Sherpa team to find out that they were ok...another near miss; and his Sherpa team was able to tell him that the only other team in the area was also ok and that everybody was going on with their climb. I related this to Kent...stared at the planet again for some time and then went back to sleep in my warm down bag. In the morning, we all looked up at the troublesome serac on the West Shoulder to gauge its stability. The same huge fin of ice had been threatening all week. It had sent down the major avalanche we'd earlier reported which caught some of our team on their way to basecamp while I was pushing up to Camp II. In the morning light, it appeared hideously undercut and I don't believe any of us expected it to last through another day. I went so far as to take "before" photos of it. But to my knowledge, no Everest climbers did anything different yesterday morning because of the serac. It wasn't like the Icefall route would be closed by any proclamation; there wasn't some safer way to go instead. This isn't the only mountain we frequent that has chunks of glacier ready to fall, and I for one have mistakenly pronounced dozens of crazily tilted hotel-sized ice-blocks in danger of imminent collapse only to watch them hang on for months. But this serac sent down a handful of lesser slides as the morning progressed...enough to keep our attention focused...and our cameras ready. I wanted the thing to come down. I certainly didn't want to walk under it again in its decaying state. At 10:35 AM it did come down. I was sitting in my tent doorway, and I didn't need to fully look at Everest's West Shoulder to know that this was the big one. In this valley of avalanches, the quality of noise was easily different and distinct for this particular slide. I fumbled with my camera and began shooting. I didn't see the tiny dots representing climbers in the avalanche path. Partly because they may not have been visible down in the rough terrain of the Khumbu Icefall, and partly because I was totally mesmerized by the power and majesty of the white explosion I was witnessing. I kept taking pictures as the cloud engulfed basecamp. I knew it was only a cloud...we were nowhere near close enough to be hit with actual debris, but it was ominous and disturbing even so. It rolled over us like a volcanic ash-cloud, blotting out the sun and rocking the tents back and forth in its wind while pelting us with a "snow" of overly large ice crystals. And then, quite quickly, it was gone and what remained of any mist in the air was quickly burning off in the bright sun. I assumed that it had been a lucky day...that what needed to happen had happened and that nobody had been affected. It is possible that I went on in this belief for a full twenty minutes before word began to filter around that people had been caught in the avalanche. I began putting on my climbing boots and quickly loading my pack...by then, word had it that it was an acquaintance of mine of several years and many mountains. My friend had been caught along with his client and the Sherpa working with them. I saw Willie and Damian Benegas going past our camp, both speaking into their radios. There were a number of Sherpas moving toward the start of the Icefall route, including Tendi and LamaBabu from our own team. Seth Waterfall was ready before me and stood patiently as I finished up my climbing harness, then we started walking fast and I joined the ongoing radio scramble to get men and equipment to the accident scene. Since IMG's Sherpas and clients were descending the route at the time and were very lucky to come through unscathed, they were among the first to report the situation via radio, and so all other teams migrated to the IMG frequency. This seemed right since Mark Tucker and Ang Jangbu Sherpa at the IMG basecamp had shifted into their familiar role in bilingual crisis management. Seth and I checked in and learned that HimEx was offering up a full rescue pack cached near the start of the route. Russell Brice came on the radio, directing us to the gear. We loaded up heavy packs full of oxygen, sleeping bags, medical equipment, and rescue hardware and began climbing. We listened as various expedition leaders, guides and Sherpas reported in and offered up a mountain of resources. This from supposedly competing companies-none of whom had any reason to think that their own staff or customers were involved or injured. We began to feel the sense of community that is so often overlooked or ignored in modern media coverage of the Everest "scene." And we began to feel the intense sun that we normally avoid working under at midday. The glacier surface was brilliant in its new coat of "snow" from the avalanche and seemed to be reflecting 100% of the sun's radiation onto the skin I hadn't had time to protect in my dash out of BC. Within minutes under the big packs, we were covered in sweat. It turned out that a descending Indian team was instrumental, along with IMG's Sherpas, in getting my friend and his client out of a crevasse that the avalanche had pushed them into, but now the radio chatter was focusing on the Sherpa that had been with them. He was missing. Willie and Damian Benegas (Argentinian-American brothers leading two different Everest teams) were among the first Western professionals on the scene, and we relied on their reports of the situation as we continued to climb. My friend, badly hypothermic and shaken, was being placed on a stretcher as Seth and I arrived in the blast zone. We dove into the medical supplies we carried in an effort to help stabilize him. Seth concentrated his efforts then on escorting the remarkably unscathed client down. Willie Benegas and a strong team of Sherpas worked to get the stretcher down, as I then went up to join Damian and perhaps 20 Sherpas who were searching for the missing man. After 15 minutes or so, I was encouraged to hear Willie describing my friend as "combative" enough that they could no longer carry him on the litter. He preferred to walk, as it turned out, and of course that was a fine outcome. At the "point-last-seen" I was amazed at the bravery and high energy of the searching climbers. Damian and a British guide were roped up and jumping crevasses in an effort to reach islands of glacier that might offer better views. The Sherpas had fixed ropes down a series of steep, debris-strewn ice gullies and were exploring every crevasse and alcove along their path. I kept looking up at the origin of the avalanche, where it appeared that a tooth had been broken from some massive jaw. Unfortunately, there were still other teeth, and the searchers were clearly in a terrible position should a second slide follow the path of the first. I checked my watch and my radio to confirm that two-and-a-half hours had passed since the avalanche. I began asking the team to suspend the search. The missing man's boot, with crampon still attached, had been found close enough to his last known whereabouts that we were each haunted to imagine the power of the wind that had hit him. His pack was eventually retrieved some 100 meters distant. The clues only made it more difficult to quit. The Sherpas all agreed that there was now no chance of finding a buried man alive. They agreed that it was time to quit and move to safety. But they wouldn't. Nobody wanted to be the first to leave. Tendi and LamaBabu continued to twist in ice screws and rappel into crevasses..."Just this last one." But they couldn't find the 31-year-old father of two. Knowing how many of them were also fathers, I insisted that they quit-eventually they listened to me, to their own leaders and their own valid concerns. We walked down through the ice rolls and ridges of the lower glacier without much talking. Dozens of good folk had come out from basecamp and stood on the ice ridges with water and tea for the search teams. Upon reaching basecamp, the teams melted back into a tent village composed of twenty different expeditions, but not without a number of quiet handshakes and a hundred expressions of thanks. To each other...to a missing man's sacrifice...to the good luck of survivors.

The team enjoyed a well deserved rest day today. We leisurely ate breakfast, sipped coffee, and explored the city. We stay in a hotel close to the main square of the city so everything we could want is within walking distance. Tiny street markets, beautiful churches, old dive bars, and the colors of the buildings make Puebla a true joy to wander in. The team met up for dinner at a local favorite, El Mural de Los Poblanos, where we shared stories of our days and recalled our climb of Ixta. After we walked to my favorite ice cream place in town and enjoyed the sweet treat to end the night. We leave early for Tlachichuca tomorrow, but not before one more good nights rest in our beds.

RMI Guide Dominic Cifelli

The Four Day Climb July 25 - 28 reached the summit of Mt. Rainier this morning led by RMI Guides Casey Grom and Ben Liken. Clear skies and warm temperatures continue in the area.  Once the teams return to Camp Muir they will take a quick break to re-hydrate and re-pack their gear before continuing the remaining 4.5 miles to Paradise. The teams will celebrate their achievements later this afternoon at Rainier Basecamp.

Congratulations to today's climbers!