A decade after the tragedies documented in Jon Krakauer’s bestseller “Into Thin Air,” climber deaths are again marring the pre-monsoon season on Mount Everest. Ten deaths are confirmed this spring. Only that infamous spring of 1996 saw more fatalities, with 12. Before this season ends, I fear we will hear of more.
Two cases, both on the north side of the mountain, stand out as the most unfortunate. Up to 40 individuals are said to have passed British climber David Sharp as he lay dying below the summit. Days later, Australian Lincoln Hall was left, considered dead, only to be found alive and rescued the following day.
These episodes, devoid as they seem of mountaineering’s tradition of cooperation and concern for others, cast a nasty shadow on the craft I have practiced for 30 years. The media attention to these events exposes the worst in our sport. But these are isolated cases on a unique mountain. The ethic of helping others in mountaineering remains strong.
The world’s highest mountain is a coveted summit. An infrastructure of fixed ropes, bottled oxygen and Sherpas who set camps and carry loads makes it possible for less practiced climbers to attempt Everest. The large numbers of climbers – as many as 500 may summit this year – includes many who are ill-prepared.
The two most reasonable routes up the mountain are the South Col Route, from Nepal, and the North Ridge, from Tibet. Very few expeditions go to either of these routes without plans to use oxygen, fixed lines and Sherpa support to aid their ascent. The Nepal side tends to be more expensive. Sherpas are readily available, and generally the expeditions here are large national affairs or well- run guided trips.
The lower permit fees in Tibet allow expeditions with smaller budgets and fewer resources to attempt the mountain. According to Eric Simonson, who has guided many successful expeditions to Everest, “In David Sharp’s case, he basically got a couple bottles of O2 and a space in a tent at 27,000 feet – that is it. He was obviously not ready to handle the terrain above by himself, or to get himself down when he ran out of oxygen.”
We have yet to learn all of the details, so it is too early for a thorough analysis. As a high- altitude climber myself, I know how hard it would be to manage a rescue in what climber’s call the “death zone.” Still, the concept of passing a dying man by en route to a summit is unfathomable to me and to most climbers.
While these events were unfolding in the Himalaya, a literal who’s who of American mountaineering history gathered in Denver recently to celebrate Dr. Charlie Houston and the founding of the Altitude Research Center at the University of Colorado. Houston led the American expeditions to K2 (28,254 feet) in 1938 and 1953. He was a pioneer in the research of the effects of altitude and hypoxia on the human body. In 1990, he founded the Colorado Altitude Research Institute in Keystone.
The list of people celebrating Houston’s life and the center included Dr. Tom Hornbein, a doctor and member of the first American team to climb Mount Everest; Nick Clinch, an environmentalist, historian and leader of the first ascent of Hidden Peak (26,471 feet); and the four other living members of the 1953 K2 expedition.
These men represent the tradition of mountaineering that still dominates the sport today. In 1953, the K2 team famously abandoned any concern for the summit to attempt the rescue of fellow climber Art Gilkey. While attempting to drag and lower Gilkey from their high camp at 25,500 feet, George Bell fell, pulling four others off the mountain. Pete Schoening saved all five by single-handedly holding the rope. Gilkey was lost in a subsequent accident; the teamwork and concern for one another they exhibited during the struggle for survival that ensued is legendary.
One of the American Alpine Club’s most cherished awards is the David A. Sowles Award. It is conferred from time to time on “mountaineers who have distinguished themselves, with unselfish devotion at personal risk or sacrifice of a major objective, in going to the assistance of fellow climbers imperiled in the mountains.”
The members of the 1953 K2 expedition were among the first recipients. After the 1996 Everest tragedies, three individuals were singled out to receive the prestigious award.
In 2001, seven climbers gave up their summit to rescue two who were near death from a substantially more difficult location than David Sharp’s. They received the award in 2002.
If you dig deeply enough, you’ll find glimpses of the best of mountaineering even in this year’s terrible chapter on Everest. The men who eventually came to Lincoln Hall’s aid gave up their summit to save his life. Even amid stories of selfishness and ego, the true spirit of mountaineering remains strong.
Phil Powers is executive director of the Golden-based American Alpine Club.
