Lobuche Summit: New Memories

A familiar sound – the ignition of the stoves – after the moon had set and the night was at the coldest and darkest. I rolled over in my sleeping bag. I heard the breathing of my tent mate, the sounds inside the tent a few feet away. The snow had stooped.

I pulled my Buff away from my mouth; it was soaked. My sinus had made an executive decision for the rest of my body and was sending a series of liquid orders demanding attention. Following orders, there my throat had constricted leaving a raw residue that refused to cooperate with my breathing or talking.

In a voice more similar to a life time smoker than a climber, I woke my tent mate; “Bill, sounds like the Sherpas are up. Time to go.” “Alan, it is 2:30, we don’t get up until 3:30” he said as he now rolled over, back to me.

I stretched my legs out letting my toes touch the water bottle that had completed its job; the hot water now tepid. I wiped my nose.

People often ask me what it is like, or why, Everest a 4th time. All I can say is that I am lucky; honored.

As I snoozed off and on, I heard steps approaching our tent on the newly fallen snow at 17,000 at Lobuche High Camp. Kami called out my name as he unzipped the tent door. What follows would be, no is; total coddling. He made me a hot cup of black tea; coffee for Bill. We sipped it while sitting upright in our down sleeping bags. A few minutes later he reappeared with a plate holding two pieces of toast and a fried egg. He made more tea.

Climbing in the Himalaya is different from any place on Earth. While you are expected to be experienced, self sufficient and skilled; you are taken care of by the Sherpa community like a new born who knows nothing.

My teammates had gathered outside their tents; their headlamps looking like a group of midges in the cold dark night. I joined them putting a few last things in my pack. Kami picked it up. “Too heavy” as he put my spare jacket and bibs in his pack. I knew it would do no good to argue. My memories of nights identical to this at the South Col took over. But this new memories was 9,000 lower. A good memory.

Once again, I thought about memories the role they play in our lives. Memories provide context, a sense of substance. Memories are who we are.

One teammate left with her Sherpa into the darkness and soon we all took our place in line as the route took us through rock bands, close to a cold and harsh stone wall. The ground was now covered by the eons of erosion; finely ground sand. Breaking out of the rocks, we leveled for a short time and then regained the elevator angle, now snow covered slope. This continued for 2 more hours.

The sun started to break through sending the stars to the other side of the earth for the next 12 hours. We saw the morning rays on the highest mountain peaks long before we saw it on ourselves. We were climbing in the high altitude of the Himalaya. Yes I am lucky; honored.

The angle picked up as we put on crampons and clipped our metal carabiners and jumars onto the fixed ropes the Sherpas had only set the previous day. The sun now broke though and warmed the morning. The summit of Lobuche Peak, the East summit at 20,000′ was starting to come into view as we stepped onto the glacier. Our team had split into several groups. No one was racing, just the natural pace of climbers.

Greg, standing on a rock prow like a pirate boat skipper, called out words of encouragement, coaching, an occasional question to his charges as we made steady progress. The chatter over the radio from the Sherpas verified all was fine, all was in control. This acclimatization climb was right on schedule, right on pace, everyone was looking good.

I slowed as we reached 19,000′. It was high, the oxygen a bit thinner. Kami let me set the pace, ly following; probably bored. But I felt his eyes watching my every move. I said little with my throat raw; my Buff once again soaked.

The angle picked up to nearly 50 degrees for a short stretch. Perfect time to practice cramponing techniques. The snow was solid; easy traveling, except for the 19,000′. “Summit”, Kami said in his gentle voice pointing towards the skyline marking blue from white. And with that we stepped on the East Summit.

The clouds covered the view but for an occasional brief break. I took as many pictures as I could. I gave Kami a bag of honey chews for a snack as I ate the same. He immediately walked over to another Sherpa to share.

I glanced at my watch. Hmm, 4 hours and 3,000′ gain. Not bad to 20,000′. I looked around with increased self confidence as Kami looked at his chewy. Everest came into view, then Ama Dablam; Maklua made an appearance. Lucky; honored.

The down climb was half the ascent.

The team regrouped at Lobuche Base Camp feeling good about our work this day. We slept well that night.

Today, we packed our climbing duffels for the Rai porters to ferry back to Everest Base Camp. The porters look so young. I asked one how old he was thinking maybe 19; he said 31. I took his picture. The youngest looking took the lightest load; maybe 50 pounds. The thump strap across his forehead, he sat down to leverage the load and with one ballet worthy move, gained his footing; adjusted his load and left camp with a quick short step pace. Lucky; honored.

Tomorrow is our Puja which is deserving of its own post.

Climb On!
Alan
Memories are Everything