Mud Sweat & Tears - Bear Grylls [85]
I had never felt so terrified, excited, anxious – and out of breath – in all my life.
But this wasn’t even the beginning. It was both before and below the beginning.
I decided to stop thinking ahead, and to start this expedition the way I wanted it to go on.
I would give this mission my everything. I would commit to slogging my guts out twenty-four hours of every day, until my eyes bled. I would consider anything short of this to be a bonus.
At least that should manage my expectations.
CHAPTER 78
Finally, Neil and Henry arrived over the horizon – the expedition itself had begun.
Base camp was now filling up with a whole multitude of climbers: teams from Singapore to Mexico to Russia. Maybe forty climbers in total – including a strong, cheerful Bolivian mountaineer, Bernardo Guarachi.
All were intent on risking everything for a shot at the top.
Not everyone would return alive.
The energy that a group of ambitious, highly driven climbers created was palpable. There was a purpose to everything. The camp was a hustle of tanned, wiry athletes, all busily organizing equipment and discussing strategies for the climb.
The other climbers under the logistical control of Henry Todd included Andy Lapkass, our team doctor, and Karla Wheelock, a quiet, friendly, but fiercely determined girl, trying to be the first Mexican female to the summit.
Also joining us was an Australian climber, Alan Silva. Blond and fit-looking, he didn’t say much and seemed quite detached. It was clear he wasn’t there for fun. He was a man on a mission, and you could tell it.
Then there was a Brit called Graham Ratcliffe, who had already climbed Everest from the north side. Straight-talking and good-humoured, he was hoping to be the first Brit to climb the mountain from both sides.
Geoffrey Stanford was a military Guards officer who, like Neil, Mick and me, was from the UK. An experienced Alpine climber, this was to be his first attempt on Everest.
And finally there was Michael Down, one of the most celebrated rock climbers in Canada. Cheerful, clearly competent, his outdoor look was complete – yet Michael already looked apprehensive.
Everest has a habit of making that happen to even the bravest of climbers.
He was a good man, though, and I sensed it within hours of meeting him.
In addition to these international climbers, we were supported by a climbing team of Nepalese Sherpas, led by their Sirdar boss, Kami.
Raised in the lower Himalayan foothills, these Sherpas know Everest better than anyone. Many had climbed on the mountain for years, assisting expeditions by carrying food, oxygen, extra tents and supplies to stock the higher camps.
As climbers, we would each carry substantial-sized packs every day on Everest, laden with food, water, cooker, gas canisters, sleeping bag, roll mat, head torch, batteries, mittens, gloves, hat, down jacket, crampons, multi-tool, rope, and ice axes.
The Sherpas would then add an extra sack of rice, or two oxygen tanks to that standard load.
Their strength was extraordinary, and their pride was in their ability to help transport those life-giving necessities that normal climbers could not carry for themselves.
It is why the Sherpas are, without doubt, the real heroes on Everest.
Born and brought up at around twelve thousand feet, altitude is literally in their blood. Yet up high, above twenty-five thousand feet, even the Sherpas start to slow, the way everyone, gradually and inevitably, does.
Reduced to a slow, agonizing, lung-splitting crawl. Two paces, then a rest. Two paces, then a rest.
It is known as the Everest ‘shuffle’.
They say that to climb Everest successfully you actually climb the mountain five times over. This is because of having to ascend then descend her continually, in an attempt to allow your body to adjust slowly to the extreme altitude.
Each time we reached a new high point, we would have to turn around the next morning and descend towards base camp in order to let our bodies