Valerio Massimo Everest Expedition 2009

Me on the summit of Cho Oyu with Everest in the background

The Summit Push Begins

May 17th, 2009 by Alix
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 Valerio and Moises Testing Gear

Hi All, Alix here, as predicted in the last post. Before I begin I thought I should address the beard issue as it’s gaining such attention. Valerio had to shave the beard, despite the example of so many great adventurers, as there is a high chance of it freezing and interfering with his oxygen flow as he gets higher. So it wasn’t just vanity, or my insistence!

 

On to more mundane matters… this is a post in several different parts and timeframes. First we have the present, the 9:30am on the 17th, when I know that Valerio made it safely through the dreaded Icefall and is on his way up to Camp 2, where he’ll be staying for two nights before continuing up to Camp 3, Camp 4, and then on to final summit push some time during the night of the 20/21st.

 

 

Then I have what I wrote when I returned to my tent at 2:30am after an early wake up at 1:45 and excited, tense breakfast at 2am. The first group is 14 strong, including guides, and everyone was in good spirits as they left for the first step of the final stage of this long process:

 

2:30 am. Valerio just left; it was a somewhat spooky sight, headlamps glaring and fading in the darkness as owners did last checks on their gear, the only sounds hushed whispers and the clanking of d-clips. The night itself however was glorious – utterly clear and still after days and nights of continual storms, the crescent moon intensely bright, reflecting on the curve of the peaks around the camp. Billions of stars, looking much brighter and bigger than normal, littered the sky in unfamiliar places; the Big Dipper was very low in the sky and vertical. My tent suddenly seems huge; I take advantage of the space to sleep horizontally across the mats and away from a looming boulder which bothers me.

 

An hour later, I scrambled up a bit of the moraine to watch the trail of tiny headlamps making their way through the Icefall, witnessing a small avalanche which made sleeping for the rest of the night very hard.

 

Lastly, there is the note that Valerio wrote before he went to sleep last night:

 

Valerio, 8:30pm: If everything went to plan, I am in Camp 2 as you read this, having climbed through the Icefall and past Camp 1 last night and this morning.

 

We had an all-hands team meeting on the 14th May, where Russell outlined his plans for the summit push.  There would be two teams, with summit days a number of days apart. I’m in Team 1, which leaves tonight at 2:30am. As usual, we’ll be woken by a Sherpa with a hot towel and ‘bed tea’, although this time we’ll  be whispering to try not to disturb the others as we hastily pull on the clothes, boots, and harnesses that we spent today checking and fixing.

 

For the past few days I have been getting ready.  Resting, eating as much as I can, and checking and re-checking equipment.  Today was final packing day, and I have been going through my equipment with a fine tooth comb. My inner boots, which look (according to Alix) like a child’s image of what a basketball-playing astronaut would wear (does that make sense to anyone at all?) have come to pieces, so I have used the most advanced technology known to man and mountaineer to fix them: duct tape. Lots of it. I was surprised to find out that I climbed Cho Oyu in them without any insoles, so have managed to find some from another pair of boots and transfer, with the luxurious new inclusion of battery-operated footwarmers,  But the main focus has been to get mentally prepared now that the dates were known.  This is it, the end game after all the time here at EBC and above and all the training in the year prior to my departure.

 

I write this as I lie in my tent on the evening of the 16th May.  It is 8.30pm and I am getting up in a few hours to leave.  Now that the time has come I just want to get on with it.  As everyone says, the next seven days are going to be among the hardest of my life, but I feel as ready as I can be.

 

So this is my last post until I get back to Base Camp around the 25th or 26th.  I will take a Sat phone with me and Alix will post as I make my way up, and on summit night/day Alix will post my progress as I report down via radio.

 

For now – here we go! 

 

Over and out from EBC.

 

Back to Alix: So off he went, and now I’m left for a couple of days with the rest of the team before they too head off and EBC becomes a ghost camp for at least a week. The team are all strong so I’m confident but it’s certainly tense; over the last few weeks I’ve enjoyed getting to know all of the climbers and I desperately want them all to summit. Russell has strict turnaround times for summit day so anyone not reaching the designated points within, for example, five hours or ten hours and so on, will be turned around no matter how close to the summit, which could be painful.

 

Fingers, toes, elbows and knees crossed for Valerio and everyone on the mountain.

 

X from an emptier EBC.

PS Thank you for the comments, they are so appreciated in our splendid isolation!

 

 

 

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The waiting game

May 13th, 2009 by Valerio
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Hello to all from a very wintry EBC.

 

Well, the waiting game is on, not just for us, but for all the teams at Base Camp.  When will the weather window open up?  When should we go?  What tactics will we use?

 

Today is the 13th May, and it has been over a week since I returned from the freezing temperatures of Camp 3, at 7,400 meters on the Lhotse Face.  Since then the weather has closed in, and Base Camp has reverted to a winter scene.

 

Arriving on the 9th April, we enjoyed over three weeks of unbroken good weather, with some of the team wearing T-shirts and shorts at Base Camp on the warmer days.  Since we got back from Camp 3, the weather has turned cold and stormy, with three days of unbroken blizzards.  Everyone has been in full down gear and the solar panels have been put away.  There was so much snow that our tents were buried and we spent one morning digging them out with shovels.

 

This has been a funny season – perfect summit weather while we were all acclimatising, and then the window slammed shut once teams were ready to go higher, trapping everyone at Base Camp.  There has only been a single summit day this season so far – the 5th May – and that was a team of Sherpas (including three from Himex), who summitted after fixing ropes on the summit ridge.  After the 5th May the weather closed in.  A few climbers tried for a possible narrow weather window on the 11th May, but in the end they were trapped at the South Col in a storm.  They later descended, shattered, and won’t be able to go up again.  That’s what can happen if you try for a narrow summit window – you can exhaust yourself and never even try for the summit itself.  Getting to the South Col at 8,000 meters is exhausting, and staying there waiting for a break in the weather even more so.  Typically you only get one shot at going that high.  I am only glad that our team did not try a few days back.

 

Instead we have been trying to rest and recuperate at Base Camp.  I was going to drop down the valley to Pangboche at 3,900 meters to gain strength from the lower altitude, but the morning Alix and I were due to leave for the 6-hour trek down, the storm closed in.  So I stayed here to ride it out, and it only cleared for more than hour again this morning.

 

Base Camp is getting restless.  After the highs of the trip up the Lhotse Face, now we are stuck waiting.  Five of the team have now left the expedition, the last this morning due to an inability to acclimatise to the higher altitudes after persevering with a last attempt to reach Camp 3.  Those that remain will make up the eventual summit teams, but for some the waiting around is proving hard, particularly for those who have not been on a 8,000 meter peak expedition before – all this forced inactivity is new to them.  Spirits are generally good, the team strong and in the main recovered from illness, and people are still getting on – which is quite an achievement given we have all been thrown together to live at very close quarters, in less than perfectly comfortable circumstances, in what is undoubtedly a high stress environment, for almost seven weeks.  There have been no arguments or politics which are common on other expeditions of this size, so we are lucky.

 

We aren’t encouraged to go on massive hikes or mini-climbs as at this late stage, it exhausts the body more than it keeps it fit, given the altitude.  Many are worried about fitness ebbing away and muscles atrophying, yet the guides are not running around exercising – they are resting too.

 

I have not suffered from most of the common complaints so far (touch wood) – no AMS, no cold, no stomach issues, no frostbite – but the one thing I am struggling with, as I did on Cho Oyu in 2004, is loss of appetite and the resultant weight loss.  When I first arrived at Base Camp I was fine, but with each trip to altitude, I returned with a slightly weaker appetite.  At altitude muscle goes first rather than fat, the body consuming it no matter how much you eat.  I feel as if I have lost too much weight, but I am lucky to have Alix here, who has reminded me that a year in the gym made me put on a lot of bulk which was there to lose.  It is a constant battle; a mental as well as physical one.  Everyone is struggling with something – you never feel 100% at this stage of an expedition.  The trick is to keep mentally strong and just accept that no one who makes it this far in an expedition like this feels anywhere near full strength – it is simply an accepted part of high altitude mountaineering – by the time you are acclimatized and waiting for the right weather, the body will have taken a beating and be feeling sub-par.  It is something many finely tuned athletes (and no I do not count myself in that category…) find very hard to deal with up here.

 

Now come the tactics.  Unlike some blogs, I am not going to talk about precise timing here.  Russell doesn’t even necessarily tell us until the last minute, for fear that our summit timing will be revealed to other teams.  Russell’s access to proprietary weather reports from his personal weather expert in Switzerland is well known, but it is not just the data but the interpretation of the data which is proprietary and which many teams want to copy.  So unless we want ten other teams on our tail, all information about summit attempts is kept highly confidential. 

 

So the camp is rife with speculation.  Will Russell send a small, strong first team up to go for an early and narrower summit window on the basis that other teams won’t be strong enough to take advantage of it?  Will we wait for a longer and more stable summit window, and until other teams have tried and failed?  Will there be two summit teams or three?  An early, narrow window could see less people, but could end up with the team needing to break trail in the over knee-deep fresh snow and face strong winds and colder temperatures.  Is it worth it to go early, and with fewer other teams?  But then again all this assumes all teams have access to the same weather reports, which they don’t.  We could find ourselves going for a narrow weather window which others see as wide, making it crowded and the conditions adverse.  All we know is that there are lots of impatient people at Base Camp now, and some are in our team.  I don’t mind waiting, but the tactics are out of my hands.  There are merits to many approaches, and if anything is decided, it hasn’t been announced yet.

 

So we wait.  We may find out more tomorrow, but even if we do, I won’t be posting it here.  Depending on the tactics decided upon, the first post which says I have left for the summit attempt may well be posted by Alix when I am already on my way.

 

Over and out from a rather restless EBC.

 

PS I have included the final beard shot before we parted ways – one heading up the mountain, one down the drain.

 

The ex-beard

The ex-beard

 

 

Russell gives an oxygen briefing

Russell gives an oxygen briefing

 

 

Russell gives an oxygen briefing

Russell gives an oxygen briefing

 

Russell gives an oxygen briefing

Russell gives an oxygen briefing

 

 

Our Base Camp under the snow

Our Base Camp under the snow

 

 

Alix in our tent after the snowfall

Alix in our tent after the snowfall

Me digging out our tent

Me digging out our tent

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First week at EBC

May 11th, 2009 by Alix
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Hello all, Alix here! I’ve now been at Base Camp for a week, and it’s amazing how easy it’s been to slip into camp life. Going to sleep in a freezing tent at 9pm, wearing a full down suit, gloves, and a wooly hat, seems normal; waking up in the night to the sound of rockslides thundering down the nearby slopes seems normal; and watching the weather go from t-shirt wearing heat to full-on blizzard and back again several times a day seems normal. I’ve even adjusted to the fact that everything is always frozen- batteries, drinks, toothpaste, me. It’s difficult to drink enough as the only fresh water available is either just-boiled and scalding hot or frozen solid (although there’s always the bar…).

 

Occasionally this sense of ‘normal’ is disrupted and I remember with a sense of disbelief that I’m actually living at Everest Base Camp. Over the last few nights, for example, the moon waxed full, which has meant that leaving the group dome tent has become difficult- there’s a bottleneck in the doorway as each person stops dead and stares upwards in wonder at the high peaks which encircle the camp reflected in the moonlight. Dazzling and humbling.

 

There have also been more sobering moments – as some of you might have read there was a big avalanche three days ago in the Icefall and a Sherpa from another team died; a tragedy that affected everyone here. Our camp itself, built on a glacier, shifts daily – tents that were originally on flat ground are now sliding backwards, forwards, and sideways into each other – some people are living, sodden, in mini lakes while others delight in the ‘Riviera apartments’ that line the stream of melted ice that flows and freezes each day.

 

All the climbers and guides in our camp are fascinating and fun and I’m having a wonderful time hearing all their stories and backgrounds. They couldn’t be more different as individuals, spanning over four decades and 5 continents, but all have the same goal in common. The group is slightly smaller now as some people have left for various reasons – mainly illness or altitude sickness, but one climber had a recurring nightmare that he would not make it and eventually decided to heed his subconscious and return home, an illustration of how the mountain can affect you mentally as well as physically. Mealtimes are lovely, as everyone gathers in the three mess tents (which are cosy despite the fact that you can see your breath steaming in front of you as you eat) and often stay chatting till long after the food is eaten (or not eaten in Valerio’s case- he’s having trouble with his appetite which may come as a surprise to many!). The food is good, especially considering that it’s almost impossible to bake or cook anything familiar at this altitude- a birthday cake a few days ago took five hours to bake instead of the predicted hour, for example. An attempt at croissants came out exactly like ship’s biscuits must have tasted. Conversation ranges from the frequently obscene (I’m one of only 5 women in camp so my knowledge of a variety of topics is being wonderfully expanded) to politics, climbing stories, and the weather.

 

The weather is the focus of everyone’s attention as it will dictate when the summit push begins; even when it’s nice here, at the top it can be lethal (today we’ve heard it’s around –30 with mindboggling 90km winds and zero visibility due to low storms, so a few teams have had to turn back) and everything depends on the precision of predictions. As Russell put it in a group meeting recently , “Waiting is hard but it saves fingers, toes, and lives”. At the same time there is a lot of rumour and counter-rumour as some teams try for the summit, others try and then turn back, and so on. For many people waiting is the hardest part as they go stir crazy (Valerio is doing well although he’s been tearing his way through the stack of Jeffrey Archers in the shared library), a situation that’s been exacerbated by a sudden turn in the weather to heavy and unrelenting blizzards, leaving us all stranded in camp.

 

Beyond books, entertainment focuses on the white pod which Valerio’s already mentioned- there have been a couple very fun parties, lots of movies (although they tend to stop at crucial moments when the solar power runs out), card games including a brief attempt at strip poker (I say attempt as no-one could play long enough to get through the vast numbers of layers we all wear), dancing including an amazing haka by the Maori contingent, and a brilliantly organized quiz night by South Africans Robbie and John.

 

Anyway I’m off to attempt a shower- I tried yesterday but the water remained about one degree above freezing and the floor was solid ice- not a nice combination when you have to emerge into a frosty day. A girly point- long hair is an enormous hassle in the mountains as it can take two days to dry and often freezes at night and breaks in the morning. I have given up and am keeping a permanent French plait under my hat.

 

Lastly, a few random photos below from my trip here –  they should have accompanied my last post but I was unable to upload then.

 

To those following who’ve written in to friends here, everyone is well and flourishing!

 

X from EBC.

 

PS Good luck to Pinky, Belinda, Konal and all our other intrepid friends on the other side of the globe who are cycling across Namibia for the next two weeks with the Desert Heart Foundation. (Google it!).

 

Cheesy grins on top of Gokyo-Ri

Cheesy grins on top of Gokyo-Ri

 

 

The mirror-like third lake as we set off up Gokyo Ri

The mirror-like third lake as we set off up Gokyo Ri

 

 

Flying high - Everest is the big black mountain in the back right

Flying high - Everest is the big black mountain in the back right

 

 

Caught in a blizzard crossing the Cho La

Caught in a blizzard crossing the Cho La

 

The pile of yak dung for fuel that I shared a room with

The pile of yak dung for fuel that I shared a room with

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