Everest 2025: Weekend Update May 18–Summit, Summits and Preventable Deaths

Makalu–70+ Summits

Seven Summits Treks got what may be the last Makalu summits this season with two members and two Sherpas on top today. SST set the summit lines on May 9, but clients had to wait for better weather, which arrived last weekend, with 15 summits and two more on the 15th. Madison Mountain put their eight-person team on the summit along with an unspecified number of climbers with Elite Exped on May 11. 8K Expeditions noted a remarkable summit of five siblings from Nepal’s Sankhuwasabha district. Pioneer Adventure noted two summits.

14 Peaks Expedition put three Sherpas and two members, including Antonina Samoilova of Ukraine, on Makalu’s summit. And Satori noted they had 18 summits, seven members, and eleven Sherpas. 

Australian Matthew Scholes, 36, summited, marking the first of the season for a non-Sherpa on Makalu, alone, with no supplemental Os and no fixed lines as they were buried in deep, fresh snow.  14 Peaks announced five summits on May 9, accompanied by two clients and three Sherpas.

This season, 79 foreigners have permits for Makalu across six teams.

Narrative–To the Top of the World

This narrative is a bit different from the others this season. It’s my first-hand account of climbing from the South Col to the Summit with Kami Sherpa in the lead and with my teammates Mirjam and Mingma. I climbed with IMG on May 21, 2011. 

Narrative–To the Top of the World

Arriving at the South Col at 8:00 AM, we now had 12 hours to rest, compared to the 4 or 6 hours I had on my previous three attempts. Three attempts at Everest without a summit. Reaching the same spot each time, only hours from the summit, but it might as well have been days, given my condition in those years. What had I learned?

 My confidence soared as I crawled into the tent with my teammate Mirjam. Her husband, Jay, had turned back earlier. We rested, ate, and hydrated throughout the day on supplemental oxygen. However, the weather teased us again. The forecast of calm conditions quickly turned as the winds gusted to 40 mph throughout the afternoon, but were predicted to calm after sunset. However, with each gust, my stomach flipped, reflecting my confidence in the forecasts. I walked around the South Col, looking up at the route to the Balcony above the Triangular Face. I located the large rock that marked my turnaround point on previous attempts. I stared at the scene as my mind found its way back to the reason I was here: how good I felt, my confidence in Kami. This was going to work.

I put my down suit back on after the heat of the afternoon had passed. I slipped on my 8000m boots and turned on my foot warmers. Pulling the hand warmers out of their package, the palm-sized pad began the process of heating up in the thin air. They went into my liner gloves next to my palm. I put on my oxygen mask, goggles, and hood to ensure everything fit with no gaps, then lay back down on top of my sleeping bag, closed my eyes, and visualized the next 12 hours.

With a departure time of 9:00 PM or when the winds died down, I tried to relax. I completed one more audio dispatch, which checked off another item from my pre-climb to-do list. The absence of sound caught my attention; the quiet was a sign of no wind. The time had come.

Summit Time

I stepped out of the tent and saw Kami. I put on my harness and then my crampons as he adjusted my oxygen settings. I set my headlamp while my goggles rested above my eyes in the calm conditions. The night air was cold, but I didn’t notice it in my down suit. Climbers were moving up the Triangular Face, their headlamps marking the route.

Kami took off swiftly, and I followed closely. Memories of being left behind haunted me from previous climbs. But this time, I kept up. As we left the hand line and found the fixed rope, we joined the long line of climbers. Yet Kami unclipped and began to pass them on the right. He turned back and looked at me. Words were impossible with the oxygen masks, but I knew what he wanted, and I followed, passing climbers on the way to the Balcony. This was never in the plan. Soon we had passed forty people, now only Mirjam and Mingma were ahead of us. We might be the first to summit today. The thought gave me more energy.

We climbed in the dark. My down hood often blocked my headlamp, but the half moon made up for it. I didn’t want to stop to make any adjustments now. Kami continued his fast pace. The weather forecast had played another behind-the-scenes role. Now high winds were predicted for the next day; the afternoon of our summit. So the Sherpas had been instructed to push hard to get up and down before the winds arrived. And they were doing their job well. However, not every climber/Sherpa team was following the same script.

The winds picked back up. I thought about continuing without my goggles because wearing them combined with the oxygen mask blocked my view of my feet, making me go slower. But seeing climbers return with frozen corneas caused me to put them on, and they never came off for the rest of the summit push. Despite the caution that gloves were better than mittens and more nimble with the jumars and carabiners, I found that my Black Diamond Mercury Mitts kept me warm and allowed me to clip in and out with ease. So with these, along with my down suit, I was comfortable as the winds gusted. We climbed steadily towards the Balcony. I was anticipating 6 hours to reach it, similar to my previous times. Each time I tired a bit, I found that I had strayed from the basic mechanics of climbing. Each step had to be efficient; no slipping or stumbling, each breath full of oxygen; no gasping; each clip efficient; no wasted motion. I focused on the mechanics to the exclusion of any other thoughts.

The climb felt long in the cold and dark, but I knew we were making good progress as we passed many climbers, some standing still. I recognized the feeling. I passed the large rock marking where I had turned back before; I just smiled inside and said “not this time” and focused on my mechanics. The route crested. The headlamps above appeared to be standing still instead of moving. We had reached the Balcony. I took my pack off so Kami could swap oxygen bottles as planned. I looked around in the dark and then at my watch—it was 1:00 AM. We had left at 9:20, making our time an impressive 3:40—for me.

I told Kami, and he shrugged and said it was neither fast nor slow. I smiled at his Sherpa honesty, but he was in no mood to chat, focusing on swapping the bottle out quickly. I took a drink of hot tea from my thermos and glanced to my right. The South Summit and the Southeast Ridge dominated the view, even in the dark, with the true summit of Everest still hidden. The South Summit appeared sharp, high, and very distant. Doubts entered my mind again. Kami left for the Ridge, following Minga and Mirjam, and I followed quickly. The four of us set a steady pace, with Minga breaking trail in the fresh snow.

The first section was a gentle slope, but it was also where a Japanese climber had recently died. His body remained along the route, though out of view. I focused on my mechanics. Kami picked up his pace again, and I felt the distance between us growing. I increased my own pace but soon felt my breathing becoming labored. I caught up with Kami and asked him to slow down a bit. I noticed a break in the skyline above. Soon it became apparent that the route had taken a sudden and sharp uptick.

The angle changed from easy to difficult in the span of a few feet. But there was more: exposed rock slabs dominated the route, and the fixed line went straight up. I knew about the slabs, but the severity, angle, and height surprised me. Kami slowed down significantly due to the conditions. I was now keeping up and mimicking his every step. However, my obstructed vision caused me to take short, simple steps, trusting the points of my crampons on the smooth rock. This section took longer than I had anticipated. We were now above 28,000’, setting a new personal record for me. Each step required focus and concentration. I took a short break. The view was stunning in the waning moonlight.

Makalu, the fifth highest mountain in the world at 27,838 feet, stood to the east. Lhotse, the fourth highest peak at 27,890 feet, was located to the south. Cho Oyu, at 26,907 feet, also the sixth highest, was likewise to the east. I was higher than any of these peaks. I looked back to the east, wondering when the sun would rise. For the first time, I considered the possibility that we might summit in the dark. Finally, we reached the end of the slabs, but now the angle increased even more; the final slope to the South Summit was very steep. It was a short section, and upon reaching the South Summit at 3:00 AM, I knew I would reach the true summit.

An unexpected view appeared: a glimpse of the actual summit of Mt. Everest. It was high, steep, and sharp. Two more features needed to be crossed before getting there, however: the Cornice Traverse and the Hillary Step. The route went down about 50 feet. I used an arm-wrapping technique for this section to reach a flat area. The weather kicked up. The winds had been somewhat calm most of the night.

In a moment of irony, I had wished for a slight breeze since I was actually getting warm and slightly sweaty in my down suit. But as we crested the South Summit, we were directly exposed to the prevailing winds from the west, which were blowing steadily at over 30 mph. I pulled my hood up again and adjusted my goggles. The route was flat through this section, and suddenly I realized I was on the Cornice Traverse. Those with vertigo often feared this section, given it dropped 11,000’ into Tibet on the Kangshung Face and 8,000’ on Everest’s Southwest Face to Nepal on the left. Oh, and it was about 2 to 3 feet wide, a sidewalk. Even though there was a fixed rope to stay clipped into, it was one section I thought I would notice, but as I walked across, I barely acknowledged the danger.

A short rock climb followed, and for a moment, I thought it was the Hillary Step, but soon I came upon this famous feature. Named after Sir Edmund Hillary, it is a 40-foot-high rock formation that creates massive bottlenecks and traffic jams if the route is crowded. Fixed ropes had been set by the Sherpa team on May 5th, along with a few old lines. I clipped into the newest lines and attached my jumar. The jumar was key because it automatically locks sharp teeth into the rope if I slip, preventing me from falling too far. There was snow on the Step, but a lot of exposed rock. I had watched Kami climb it, so I had a general idea of foot placement, but again, my visibility was blocked by the goggles and mask. So, I gingerly placed my right foot onto a small rock outcropping and then my left, in a classic stem move. I pushed up with my legs and pulled on the ropes with the jumar. I repeated this move a few times and soon stood at the top of the Hillary Step. I was pleased that it went so smoothly.

Yet another surprise awaited me at the top of the Step: a large rock boulder blocked the route to the summit. A vertical rock wall was on the right, and several thousand feet of clear air to the left. Kami waited for me and made sure I was clipped in as I straddled the rock and scooted over it. My breathing increased. I still couldn’t see the summit, but I followed Kami as he led the route. I expected a nice, easy path to the top, but found more small bumps on uneven snow. It was about 4:30 AM, and the first hint of dawn was showing in the east. I looked up from my feet to take in the view and saw a series of 20-foot-high cornices to my right marking the eastern edge of the summit ridge. It was a sight that would be forever etched in my memory.

These wind-blown snow sculptures curled gracefully, their edges smooth and softly illuminated by the new day’s gentle rays. I looked to the east and saw the perfect pyramid shadow of Everest projected into Nepal. I silently wished for my camera, but it was deep inside my down suit, and we were now moving quickly towards the summit. I focused on the mechanics of climbing. One step, a second, and then a third. Short, simple steps. Breathe evenly. I looked up and saw a prayer flag fluttering in the wind–the summit of Mount Everest. This was going to work.

I had expected to feel emotional at this point, as I had dreamed of this moment for almost ten years, but the seriousness of the moment occupied my mind. The wind was now blowing at over 40 mph, and it was cold, probably 20 degrees below zero Fahrenheit. While I was warm, I knew that if I stopped, the possibility of getting cold and even frostbite was real in these conditions. I silently hoped the sun would keep me warm, but I knew it was still too early.

Mirjam and Minga were slightly ahead of Kami and me as we approached the summit. I had no idea where the rest of our team was on the climb; if they had turned back or were continuing. I was tired; the pace had taken a toll on me. We had left at 9:20 PM on May 20, and it was now 4:55 AM on May 21 – I had climbed from the South Col to the summit in 7 hours and 40 minutes. I had planned on 12 hours.

I took the final steps to the summit and saw a bench carved out of the snow just beneath a collection of prayer flags. I spotted Mirjam, Minga, and three other climbers already at the summit. They had ascended from the north side and were the season’s first climbers from Tibet. Knowing our time was limited due to the current and impending weather, I again focused on the mechanics, keeping the emotions for later. I unzipped my down suit and took out my satellite phone.

I pressed the “3” button to call a blogging service, which allowed me to record a message for my blog. I had to enter the 9-digit ID code and took off one mitten. Immediately, I felt my fingertips go from slightly cold to a tingling freeze. But I knew what I wanted to say. “I want to dedicate this summit to my mom and to all the Alzheimer’s moms. We love you and miss you.” The emotion was strong. I had more to say, but I couldn’t go on.

I took my camera and began clicking pictures as I made my calls. Karma Rita pulled several banners out of my pack, including one of Flat Stanley, which had been given to me by a fifth-grade class in Florida. They wanted Stan to see the view from the top of the world. I tried to hold him steady in the high winds. With the tasks completed, my shoulders slumped as I put my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. My down hood covered my face. I sobbed silently, celebrating the summit and grieving my mom. I thought about my 7 Summits project, all the supporters, all the followers, and all the people who believed in me. The feelings were overwhelming.

Kami stood quietly by, giving me space. The wind gusted, and I began to feel cold—time to leave. I rose and gazed from the top of the world for the first time. I stood silent and still. I pulled my goggles up for a clearer view. The eastern horizon was now a long line of soft golden light. The sun revealed the nearby summits, mountain valleys, and glaciers. I looked north into Tibet, west and south toward Nepal. The summits caught the morning sun’s spotlight, casting shadows to the west. There were no higher mountains, no higher places on earth. I was a tiny speck; it was humbling.

Climb On!
Alan
Memories are Everything

Death Total–Twelve across the Himalayas

Thus far, the death toll across the Himalayas is growing:

1, 2. April 8–Annapurna: Rinje Sherpa and Ngima Tashi Sherpa, avalanche on Annapurna while working for Seven Summits Treks.

3. April 26–Ama Dablam: Austrian Martin Hornegger, 64, died descending Ama Dablam after summit.

4. May 12–Kanchenjunga: French climber Margareta Morin, 63, died ascending Kanchenjunga, climbing with Peak 15 Adventure.

5. May 5–Makalu: American Alexander (Alex) Pancoe, 39, died at Camp 2, climbing with Madison Mountaineering.

Everest–Seven Deaths

1 April 2–Nepali Lanima Sherpa, 55, reportedly died due to high altitude sickness at EBC with an unidentified expedition operator.

2. Early May, Ngima Dorji Sherpa died at EBC from reportedly a brain hemorrhage. He worked for Seven Summits Treks.

3 May 4–Pen Chhiri Sherpa reportedly had a heart attack at Camp I while working for TAG Nepal.

4 &5–May 15, two unnamed Nepalese employees of unidentified expedition operators died in a Kathmandu hospital after being evacuated from EBC by helicopter. source

6. May 15–Filipino Philipp II Santiago, 45, reportedly died of unknown causes at C4 on his Everest ascent with Snowy Horizon.

7. May 16, 2025,  West Bengal, Indian, Subrata Ghosh, 45, died near the Hillary Step after summiting with Snowy Horizon.

Nepal Permit Update

Across Nepal’s climbing peaks, through April 25, 2025, the Ministry of Tourism collected USD 5.2 million in royalties, with Everest accounting for USD 4.6 million. Thus far, 1,025 permits have been issued for 26 mountains this spring, with climbers from the US topping the nationality list at 151, followed by India at 124.  This is the 2025 tally for the 8000ers with the latest for Everest only as the Nepal Government has not made the others public:

Climb On!
Alan
Memories are Everything

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Here’s the Podcast of this Weekend Update

The Podcast on alanarnette.com

You can listen to #everest2025 podcasts on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, Breaker, Pocket Casts, RadioPublic, Anchor, and more. Just search for “alan arnette” on your favorite podcast platform.

Previous Everest 2025 Season Coverage Posts

• Everest 2025: Weekend Update May 18–Summit, Summits and Preventable Deaths
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update May 11–Summit, Summits and more Summits
• Everest 2025: Lhotse Summits, Everest Soon & Anticipation
• Everest 2025: Managing the Crowds for a “Summit Weekend”
• Everest 2025: Pumori Avalanche, Makalu Death
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update May  4–Waiting on the Ropes
• Everest 2025: Climbers to Watch and a Death on Ama Dablam
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update May  4–On the Move!
• Everest 2025: Climbers to Watch and a Death on Ama Dablam
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update April 27–On the Move!
• Everest 2025: Remembering The Day Nepal Shook–10 Years Later
• Everest 2025: When Will They Summit?
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update April 20–Base Camp Sprawl
• Everest 2025: April 18, A Day to Remember
• Annapurna 2025: Podcast with John Black on Sherpa Deaths
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update April 11
• Annapurna 2025: Summit and Missing Sherpas
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update April 6
• Annapurna 2025: Risky Decisions – April 5 Update
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update March 30
• Everest 2025: Weekend Update March 23
• Everest 2025: Welcome to Everest 2025 Coverage – an introduction to the Everest 2025 Spring season

Background

• Everest by the Numbers: 2025 Edition – A deep dive into Everest statistics as compiled by the Himalayan Database
• Comparing the Routes of Everest: 2025 Edition – A detailed look at Everest’s routes, commercial, standard and non-standard
• How Much Does it Cost to Climb Everest: 2025 Edition – My annual review of what it costs to climb Everest solo, unsupported, and guided

Why this coverage?

I like to use these weekend updates to remind my readers that I’m just one guy who loves climbing. With 38 serious climbing expeditions, including four Everest trips and a summit in 2011, I use my site to share those experiences, demystify Everest each year, and bring awareness to Alzheimer’s Disease. My mom, Ida Arnette, died from this disease in 2009, as have four of my aunts. It was a heartbreaking experience that I hope no other family will go through; thus, I asked for donations to non-profits, which 100% go to them and never to me.

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