Everest 2025: April 18, A Day to Remember

On April 18, 2014, at 6:35 am, an ice serac released a small section onto the Khumbu Icefall. 16 Sherpas were killed in a moment as tons of ice fell, leaving the mountain workers with few options and nowhere to hide. Historically, on April 18, there was no climbing to honor the fallen. Still, memories fade, and today, eleven years later, in 2025, there is climbing on Mt. Everest, and only Adventure Consultants acknowledge the day on their site.

“The tears are right below the surface.” Russell Brice, Himex, told me years ago while standing on the trail that defines the main street of Everest Base Camp. Brice’s words and emotions could have come from any Everest operator – foreign or Nepali. Lapka Rita Sherpa said then:

We had great puja ceremony yesterday and our entire teams felt blessed. Today April 18th is Memorial Day of 16 sherpa’s hero’s lost theirs life during the 2014 tragic avalanche on khumbu icefall. This day is extremely difficult and super painful for me and many of my fellow climbers friends and their family.

The entire Everest base camp remain silent not involving any climbing activities to remembering those heroes, sending our thoughts and prayers. Om mani Padme hung, Om mani padme hung, Om mani padme hung. May those heroes Rest In Peace.

Many lost long-time employees, friends, and, in many cases, family. They speak in quiet tones about great climbers, young and old, and Sherpa Guides. They talk about their base camp doctors or the cameraman trying to record what makes Everest so special. Avalanches know no profession or nationality. They are random and often fatal.

Brice and others—Western and Nepali—returned after the tragedy. When asked why, he simply says, “It’s the right thing to do.” The cynical will discuss how much Sherpas are paid, the profit margins, and the tired old line about Sherpa exploitation by Western operators. If you ask the Sherpas, they will acknowledge the danger and the income from guiding. They are pleased that about 500 foreigners who are expected to climb Everest in 2025.

All foreign climbers are with a team that includes climbing Sherpas, cooks and countless porters. They stayed in Kathmandu hotels and ate in Kathmandu restaurants. As they trekked towards base camp, they stayed in teahouses and ate meals there. Their gear was transported from Kathmandu to Khumbu by Nepali-owned airlines. Local porters carried them further up the valley. Yes, the $11,000 Everest permit fee goes to the government, and the western and Nepali companies earn a profit; however, a large part of the direct and indirect revenue that a climber pays goes right back into Nepal.

This is why the operators are back. They know that what they do goes beyond helping members stand on a summit. Today’s remembrance is not a justification for climbing. It is not a marketing ploy to attract more climbers or sympathy. It is not an opportunity for another “adventure” magazine to sell advertising based on reciting decades-old myths that are no longer valid.

However, to be clear, not much has changed for the mountain workers other than increased life insurance. However, the fault lies not with Western Operators, as is often cited – they have supported their staff at levels high above the non-enforced laws. The fault lies with the Nepali Ministry of Tourism, which has had multiple Ministers over the years. The lack of stability in the government creates a random series of rules and no enforcement on the mountain.  A fractured government and a diverse ethnic population prevent further progress for the Sherpa people and others who work in the mountains. The Sherpa people are viewed as already having a lucrative lifestyle and incomes by the rest of Nepal. These views generate jealousy and stall further advances in safety and wages by the Ministry of Tourism. However, these facts are ignored while the complexities are real. A solution is not simple.

Yes, climbers can stop climbing Everest, but what would that accomplish, and who would suffer the most?

In 2019, when I was in Kathmandu, I met with Kami Sherpa’s son. I summited Everest and K2 with Kami and stood side by side in the Western Cwm during the 2015 earthquake. Kami’s son, Mingma, is an impressive young man. He is 29, graduated with an Electrical Engineering degree in Kathmandu, and studies renewable energy at a Canadian university.

Mingma said he wanted to be a mountain guide like his Grandfather, father and second-oldest brother, but Kami wouldn’t let him. He said he liked the idea of adventure. Interestingly, his mountain guide brother makes fun of Mingma for going to school and not earning as much money as he does guiding. Mingma has two sisters. One wants to be a doctor, and the other, after getting a degree in hospitality management, works in the hospitality industry in London. By the way, Mingma’s English is perfect. Like all his brothers and sisters, he was born in the stone house where Kami and Lhapka live today. He went to grades 1-5 in Pangboche, then to the Hillary school in Kumjung to grade 7. When Kami sent him to boarding school in Kathmandu, they dropped him back to grade 5 because his English was poor. He went on to graduate from high school and university.

The pressure is immense for them to stay in the Khumbu and make a few quick dollars guiding for 2-4 months a year, but Kami wanted a better life for his younger children, and he is seeing that come true. Mingma’s tuition was about US$2,000 yearly, and his sisters’ was about $600 each. Most Sherpas employed by Western guide companies will make between $5,000 and $10,000 guiding this spring; the low-end Nepali guide companies will pay their staff half or less for the same work. This is the quiet secret that members never understand when getting a “deal” with their outfitters. Kami’s hard work is benefiting his children. He has the same dream as parents everywhere – for their children to have a better life than they do.

Today is a day of memories—a day when a family in Portse, Pangboche, or Thame remembers their fallen husband, son, or father. They are grateful for their sacrifice, which allowed their children to receive an education, something they never had. They are grateful that their son or daughter will not become an Everest guide. They understand the juxtaposition between risk and reward. They understand that mountains are dangerous, and they would have taken them if they had alternatives.

Their tears are real and visible today. Today is a day of memories and dreams.

Om mani Padme hung

Alan
Memories are Everything