K2_ Life and Death on the World's Most Dangerous Mountain - Ed Viesturs [28]
As we climbed, of course, we had no idea what was going on with our three teammates above. At Camp III, we listened to the 7:00 P.M. radio call, but there was no word of their progress. In those days it was not unusual not to make any calls during a summit push, because you were so caught up in the effort of climbing or hadn’t even bothered to carry the bulky radio with you. Our only option was to keep the radio on and wait for word from the summit trio.
As you climb the Abruzzi Ridge, for thousands of feet the summit pyramid is out of sight, eclipsed by the cliffs and slopes above you. It’s only when you reach the Shoulder, at 26,000 feet, that the majestic upper sweep of the mountain suddenly bursts into view.
Caught up as we were in our own great day of climbing, Scott and I didn’t give much thought to Thor, Chantal, and Alex. They were experienced climbers who ought to be able to take care of themselves. Inside our sleeping bags at Camp III, Scott and I were wired and exuberant. The next day we would push on to Camp IV. If the weather held, we would go for the top on August 5.
We were too excited to get to sleep at first. Instead, we just tossed and turned in our bags. And then, at 10:00 P.M., we heard the crackle of our radio. I sat up, turned on my headlamp, grabbed the walkie-talkie, and answered the call.
It was Thor, transmitting from Camp IV. “Hey, guys,” he said. I could hear the tension in his voice. “Chantal and Alex aren’t back. I don’t know where they are.”
Oh, shit! I said to myself. In the headlamp beam, I looked at Scott. He had the same look of disgust and concern on his face. There goes our summit try, I thought.
Thor and Alex, it turned out, had left Camp IV at 5:30 that morning. Chantal hadn’t gotten off until 7:00. But then, even though she was climbing without bottled oxygen, she caught up with the two guys in the Bottleneck and surged past them. It was an extraordinary performance at such an altitude.
After a long, hard day of climbing, realizing he would reach the summit too late in the day, rather than risking a bivouac, Thor prudently gave up his attempt just a few hundred feet below the top and headed down. As he would learn only the next day, Chantal had pushed on and reached the summit at 5:00 P.M. Alex didn’t top out until 7:00. On the descent, he came across Chantal. Afraid to go down by herself in the dark, she had started to bivouac. Almost berating her, he roused her out of her apathy and convinced her to go down with him.
At first light on August 4, Scott and I prepared to head up from Camp III. Our summit attempt had been transformed into a rescue mission or, even worse, into a search for missing climbers. But then, at 7:00 A.M., Thor came on the radio again. Alex and Chantal had just arrived, staggering into camp after a descent that had stretched through the whole night. Chantal was completely exhausted, snowblind, and suffering from what she thought was frostbite. Alex had saved her life, but now, as if he felt he had done all that was required of him, the Russian dumped Chantal in Thor’s lap and headed on down the mountain. He barely said good-bye.
Chantal was still virtually helpless. So, Scott and I realized, it would now be our job to go to her aid. Thor could never get her down to base camp by himself. At least, I thought as I gathered gear for our mission, it was a rescue and not a search.
That morning, however, everything seemed to conspire against us. By the time Scott and I got going, the visibility had dropped to almost zero, and the snow conditions were really bad. For a couple of