The Mental Side of Everest

The call to meals at Base Camp is a bit primitive – the cook bangs a ladle against a huge metal skillet – yet effective. Everyone slowly pokes their head and eventually their entire body in a slow motion crawl out of the three foot high tent door and onto a rocky porch. In spite of the occasional stumble we all make it to the dining tent in short order, find our favorite seat and commence with a series of greetings even though it was only a few hours or minutes, since we last saw each other. Some sit in silence.

This had been the pattern for the last 5 weeks, 35 days, over 100 meals since we arrived at Everest Base Camp. The routine was well established.

Friday night, May 13, was no different. However climbers had summited Everest so there was a buzz in the air. Another team was at Camp 3, staged for their bid that night and another at Camp 2. Those of us at Base Camp were on standby.

Funny, what anxiety does to people. The talk that night was of schedules, gear, weather, contingencies; anything and everything climbing. All other subjects either lacked an audience or lacked a sponsor. Then everything changed, JangBu came into the tent and announced the weather forecast looked good for a summit push around May 20 meaning we needed to leave for Camp 2 tomorrow night.

The dining tent fell silent. The thousand yard stare entered every climber’s essence and collectively we all drifted away. “So that means tomorrow is our last day to sleep in?”, I asked facetiously.

At this point we are about as good physically as we can get. The only upside is downside. We cannot get healthier, only sicker. We cannot get stronger, only weaker. We cannot acclimatize more, only lose what we have. It is what it is, literally.

Mentally is a whole different story. After almost two months of sleeping in a tent, wearing the same basic clothes, eating the same basic meals, telling and hearing the same basic stories; mental limits are tested. The only motivation, and stability, comes from the goal. One climber said casually, “I have not told anyone the real reason I am here.” Surprising? Not really, our individual motivation is deeply unique and personal. Sometimes the only person who really needs to understand is ourselves.

A dinner of cauliflower, potatoes and simple noodles checked the box for that night – we had seen this one before. But with the side dish of a scheduled departure, the evening was a bit shorter than usual. No stories, no bathroom humor, all the summit questions asked and answered; to a person, we were ready to get a good night’s sleep and finish our last minute summit preparations tomorrow.

As we went to bed we knew our teammates were either going up or coming down; a subconscious thought that took a sizable amount of energy. As I walked to my tent, a new moon was just starting overhead casting shadows once again across our camp. The Big Dipper was obvious over the Nepal and Tibet border, more stars shined through the moon glow. I stood on the rocks outside my little two man tent staring up. Without a lot of thought I turned slightly to look at the Khumbu Icefall, the summit of Lhotse poking out on the skyline; Everest hiding from Base Camp.

One last climb, one last round trip; time to finish the mental preparations as I slid into the tent; put my water bottle at the foot of my sleeping bag, put my headlamp next to my head and crawled into my down bag with my down jacket still on. Laying on my back using a pillow case stuffed with extra clothing, I wiggled my socked toes against the hot water bottle, adjusted my makeshift pillow and stared at the moon glow through the paper thin nylon of the tent roof. It was time.

My eyes slowly closed against my will – a good thing. My stomach was full and I was warm. Sometime later I rolled on my right side as was my habit. I dreamed – of what I have no idea – yet I dreamed. My body had been relaxed ever since my return from Camp 3. My mind was still working on it.

I had developed a usual habit for me. When I woke up in the middle of the night, I refused to look at my watch. The first hint of each new day started around 4, the earliest direct rays hit my tent by 7. So if it was not light, I knew my job was to go back to sleep. But recently, I was waking up hungry, not a commentary on the food but rather on my mind, my body, my essence. So not to be denied, I had taken to eating an entire chocolate candy bar when I woke up. Funny what anxiety does to people. But my candy fix settled me down, gave my body something to do and soon I was back asleep. Not a bad deal.

The ladle hitting the metal pan woke me up. I pulled on my primaloft pants, my down jacket (removed during the night), my camp Uggs – not a lot really. I stumbled out of the tent and looked at the Khumbu Icefall; yes it was still there. Base Camp had a new morning glow to it and the sky was perfectly clear. I shrugged my jacket against my neck and made my way to the dining tent.

“Good morning, good morning, how did you sleep, ready to go?” We all worked the crowd. We were big family now. However the buzz was muted, a heaviness in the air as we made our individual hot drink – coffee, chocolate, tea; your choice. The radio at the communications tent had been ud almost all night. The voices had urgency in them, their tone was not relaxed.

“The winds picked backed up and the current team, while summited, is reporting difficult conditions and are headed back down. We now have had 9 members, 2 Guides and 12 Sherpas summit. But, the forecast has changed so your window is now closed and we don’t know when it will reappear. So we are calling everyone back down and you guys are going nowhere.” A blunt assessment to start the day, a blunt status for our dreams.

The thousand yard stare returned. The anxiety shifted. The mental game was in full swing.

Everest weather is difficult even in the of times. 2011 has refined difficulty. Perhaps cautious after the whiplash changes over recent days, multiple teams were hitting the brakes. However, this new whiplash was now creating sore necks amongst the summit dreamers.

Questions started about our teammates high on top of the world, other climbers, other teams. Everyone was working through their climbs. Our job was to relax, to wait, to be , to work on our minds. Somehow I think it would be easier to work against the wind at 29,000 feet.

We ate the usual breakfast – once again – a fried egg, piece of thick toast, a bowl of cereal or porridge – a hot drink. This time we all sat in our chairs, eight in all. Some left early and returned, some never did going to their tent or elsewhere to work on their mind. The sun now made the tent warm, almost hot. It felt good. The conversation returned to other subjects occasionally interrupted with the elephant on the table.

Our bodies are fit. Now it is time to work on our minds.

Climb On!
Alan
Memories are Everything